“And in leaves that send men to the Manitou’s lodge,” said Oonalooska, as he drew his necklace of bear-claws over his head. “Take this to Okalona,” the chief continued, extending the necklace to the young man, “and say that Oonalooska says: ‘Help the pale-face, for Oonalooska’s heart.’”
“Work swiftly but surely, boy, and when darkness comes again meet us here. If your plans promise success, Oonalooska and I will enter the town, and, all together, we will do a work that will never be forgotten by the Shawnee nation.”
Mayne Fairfax’s heart beat with joy.
“I will work surely,” he said. “With the freedom of the village, nothing prevents success.”
Having listened to the sage advice, Mayne Fairfax turned to go, when the hermit wrung the young man’s hands, and watched him disappear beyond the brow of the knoll. He walked through the silent street of the Shawnee town, and into the double lodge, untouched by Alaska’s wolves. Already the animals knew their “king.” In their midst reclined Alaska fast asleep, and Fairfax gained the inner apartment without disturbing her.
CHAPTER XVIII.
SIMON GIRTY IN HIS WAR-PAINT.
Jim Girty had deserted the braves who guarded the prison lodge for the purpose of assassinating Mayne Fairfax; but the absence of the young man had, for the present, thwarted his diabolical plans.
After seeing Mayne reënter the double wigwam, he walked to his own lodge, and threw himself upon an uncleanly couch of skins, and fell into a deep slumber.
The young white hunter slept till the golden day-god crept over the eastern hills, when he was waked by Alaska. The queen seemed in the possession of all her senses, and talked reasonably, while Mayne discussed the repast she had prepared. It was one of her lucid intervals, if her moments of calmness can be termed thus.
“Mother,” he said, rising from the remains of the feast, “the Wolf-King would seek the lodge of Okolona, but he knows not which way to look for it.”