As they did so the moon dropped quietly behind a black cloud, and, for a few moments, they were left in nearly total darkness.
CHAPTER III.
THE CAPTIVES.—FRIENDS ON THE ALERT.
Wearily passed the day to the captives; when night came down there seemed no sign of cessation from the toilsome march. On, still on, the column kept its way, until it was only an hour or so before midnight, that the savages gave signs that their resting-place was nigh. Then some of the younger braves began to stretch their wearied limbs, while Rutter looked eagerly around, striving, through the darkness, to see the various landmarks with which he was familiar. Though the renegade had said but little during the afternoon and evening, yet he ever rode near to the prisoners, keeping a watchful eye upon them. Now, as they came to a huge boulder, around which they were compelled to make a circuit, he ventured to inform the Major that they were near the end of the day’s journey, and that they would soon encamp for the night.
This intelligence, welcome as it was, elicited no remark from the captives.
At length the foremost of the file of warriors uttered a not unmusical grunt, expressive alike of satisfaction and intelligence. They were in a small timbered bottom, admirably suited for an encampment. It was toward this spot they had been aiming, through their hurried march.
Thomas Rutter, however, was not the first man to take advantage of the location. A party of red-men had evidently remained on the spot for some time, and the lodges which they had occupied were standing in a good state of preservation. One of the best of these Rutter immediately set apart for the reception of the captives. Two other huts remained, rather larger in size, though hardly as well constructed. These were made the headquarters of the chiefs; the braves were compelled to take up with beds on the bare ground, the sky their only roof.
After these dispositions had been made, Rutter sought out one of the older chiefs, and held an earnest consultation with him. During the course of the conversation, glances were more than once cast towards the hut, and then across the dimly lighted prairie. Pursuit was evidently feared, and the white man was asking the opinion of the chief, whether it would be safe, under the circumstances, to build a small fire. For some reason, best known to themselves, it was important that the Major and his daughter should be brought, safe and sound, to the land of the Blackfeet, and in order that this might be done, Rutter insisted that they should have some refreshment after eight hours travel without rest or food.
“The white brave may do as he pleases,” was the response of the red-man.
When Rutter entered the cabin, bearing a meal, plain, of course, and such as western men and western women are obliged to be content with, but abundant and substantial, there was actually an expression of benevolence on his countenance.