A moment later the outlaw walked from the tent, and Huldah Armstrong heard him say a few words to the Night-Hawks who guarded her, before he walked away.
The long hours of that summer day waned, and not a shot was fired at the fort. It was a painful silence to the girl, and told of bloody scenes during the coming darkness. She could see the charred roof from her prison, but not a besieged form greeted her eye.
By and by the trees on the river-bank cast long shadows, and Splitlog, followed by numerous warriors and a few soldiers, was seen approaching the outlaw’s tent.
Five Night-Hawks received the company with lowering gaze, and a word from the chief drew out Roy Funk and his prisoner.
“We’re ready, chief,” said the Night-Hawk leader.
“Then to the river,” replied Splitlog, pointing to the water. “The boats wait for the Night-Hawks of the fire-lands.”
The entire party marched down to the river, where an outlaw and several Indians guarded two large and strong boats.
“This is the beginning of our journey, Huldah,” said Roy Funk, as he gently lifted the settler’s daughter into one of the barks. “The beginning, I say; God knows what the ending will be.”
His words implied grave doubts of a safe termination of the voyage; but the next moment he was talking cheerfully to his men and the chief.
“We’ll see you again, Splitlog,” called the outlaw, as the boats were cast from their moorings. “We’ll drink fire-water some day over our doings in the fire-lands. But remember what I whispered in your ear: watch him, as you would a snake!”