Once more Antonio offered to attempt an unseen approach to the enemy, to find out their position and employment; and though now the endeavour was one of more difficulty than when he undertook it under cover of darkness, at the camp of the hollow log, yet, with the same self-reliance he proceeded on his way.
Through an opening in the wigwam, he caught sight of the clear space in front of the council-chamber. He saw, too, a crowd there—the old and young, men, women, and children loudly shouting, while from their prison-house was led the two white men—Major Robison and Parsons.
Instantly all doubts were, in his mind, resolved; the time for the sacrifice had arrived, and prompt and decisive action was necessary.
When he was once more in their midst, it did not take long for him to explain the commotion in the village, or to give them a full understanding of its cause.
“To horse!” shouted Waving Plume, in a whisper.
“To horse and forward. No time to lose now in idle calculation. We have already weighed the cost of this our undertaking. There is no one here, I take it, who could hang behind; so forward,” and, like an arrow of death, the whole body swept on into the narrow street.
The surprise was complete; Waving Plume and his followers came fiercely, charging home upon them.
Though in the attack the Crows under Antonio confined their attention exclusively to the extermination of their foes, the whites, after the first fire, were content to bend their energies more to the effecting of that for which the expedition, by them, at least, was more particularly undertaken—the rescue of the three prisoners. While Antonio and his men swept on past the stake without heeding what was there transpiring, Waving Plume and his friends there halted.
And it was well they did so. A large Indian, the master of the ceremonies, a great brave, and, as one might say, the chief executioner of that section of the tribe, stood, with hatchet upraised, just as Charles Archer rushed to the rescue. To send a pistol-ball through his brain was the work of but an instant, then, as the great corpse settled, with a noiseless quiver, to the ground, half a dozen hands dashed aside the already burning faggots, and cut the tight-binding cords which encircled the limbs of the captives.