CHAPTER IV.
IMPRISONED IN THE FREE TRAPPERS’ PASS.
Tom Rutter was well acquainted with every inch of the country over which he had determined to travel. He was now striking for a spot which he judged to be most suitable for him under the present circumstances, and which he also, with some reason, judged to be a sure retreat, for the time, at least. Though perhaps it would have been his best policy to have moved on immediately to the regular hunting-grounds of the tribe, yet, for several reasons, did he prefer to linger in this vicinity. The detachment which had separated from him, and which was to form a junction at the river, had not yet made its appearance, and until it did he did not feel justified in leaving. He was not afraid of immediate pursuit by the trappers, and would much prefer letting some of the Blackfeet braves arrive at their village before him. Then it would be apparent that he was a deserted rather than a deserter, one who, encumbered as he was by a prisoner, nevertheless remained behind till the last shot was fired. Therefore it was that he turned the horses’ heads toward the mountains, appearing to Adele as though he were determined to ride, at a racing speed, straight up their rugged sides.
Gradually an opening became evident—a rough, seldom-travelled, and almost impracticable pass—apparently extending through into the Oregonian territory, on the other side.
Man and beast being so well acquainted with the route, the rate of speed was scarcely diminished. On either side towered the mountain, the almost perpendicular walls covered with draperies of green at the top, where the moonlight fell; but lower down, dark and chill. Eyesight could be of little avail here, without a thorough knowledge of the place and its surroundings.
And still, as Rutter clattered on, an answering noise from behind, as it were an echo, showed that the pursuer held his own. A dark smile swept over the blood-smeared face of the renegade, as he listened to the noise.
“Come on, come on, close behind. Ye come fast, but it may be a long time afore ye take the back trail at sich a rate. Them as comes in at Free Trappers’ Pass sometimes gits passed out. We’re safe here; but that’s more than him behind kin say.”
In order to prevent Adele from leaping down, and endeavouring to escape in darkness, Tom changed his position so that she could not make the attempt at dismounting without leaping straight into his arms. There was little necessity for this movement. Had it been light he could have seen that no such thought entered the brain of the young captive. She only clung tightly in her seat, and, in breathless suspense, awaited the end.
For half-a-mile, at least, the two horses plunged on through the dimness, and then, at a slight touch on the bridles, they turned to one side, and began ascending an inclined plain, which led along the wall of the pass.
“Steady, gal,” said Tom, in a coarse, thick whisper. “Be keerful how yer move now, for two feet out of the road might break that purty neck o’ yours. A stumble over these rocks is an ugly thing, and Tom Rutter’s work would all go for nothin’ if you got it.”