"Where now?" I asked of Smith, as we carried her along.
"To the hut of Ogleton," he cried; "and then, if I mistake not, we shall have work before us."
"What kind of work?" asked Fred, who was carrying the rifles, and the sharp axe of the convict.
"The work of revenge," cried Smith, solemnly.
"I am ready for it," exclaimed Fred, brandishing his rifle; "God only grant us all strength to perform it."
And as we staggered along the prairie with our burden, the dark clouds in the east broke away, and revealed the glowing tints of the rising sun; and a hundred bright-plumed birds darted through the air, awakening the solitude of that vast plain with their shrill calls, and each cry seemed to say, "Revenge! revenge!"