CHAPTER VII.
THE HEART OF LOVE.
TO understand Moorooine’s situation, it is necessary that we briefly trace her movements after leaving the side of the rangers in the forest.
She had experienced much difficulty in getting clear of the circle of warriors without discovery. The latter had dispatched two of their swiftest runners for reinforcements, and these had begun to arrive. Knowing that a knowledge of her presence would arouse suspicions, she had been obliged to remain concealed a long time. And when, at last, she made good her retreat toward the village, she little dreamed that two persons who knew of her movements and intentions had gone to intercept her.
One of these was the wretch Hulet. The blow of Mace had stunned him only, and when the closely-pressed rangers dashed back to cover, he managed to creep away, and soon communicated with a warrior, and disclosed all he knew. And half an hour later, the warrior was going with him toward the village, after informing another where the bivouac of the rangers was situated. But concerning Moorooine the fellow kept silent.
The two reached the village but a short time before the Indian girl. The latter found that a number of warriors had come in from the siege of the fort, and that the whole camp was in commotion over the news brought by the runners.
Knowing of the reinforcements sent to hunt down the rangers, she felt that no aid would come from them. The task of releasing Brom was to devolve upon her alone. She well knew what the consequences of failure or even of success might be. But she did not shrink.
It took her some time to find the bark lodge where Brom was confined. The next thing was to ascertain if he were alone, and if not, to devise some stratagem to get rid of his guard.
To her joy she found that the prisoner was alone. To make an opening in the rear of his prison-hut and creep inside, was the work of a moment.
An idea of her extreme caution and skill may be formed from the fact, that as yet the two plotters watching for her appearance were not aware of her return.
No sooner had she entered the hut, than she closed the aperture and crept toward White Fox, who was sitting upright. He heard and suspected her. He had in fact hoped to receive her aid, and had rightly supposed she was not ignorant of his situation. The thought that she was near caused the blood to course through his veins like wildfire. But suddenly, a warrior appeared in the door, and Moorooine sunk behind the one she loved, as noiseless as a shadow!
The warrior stood a moment, and then entered, peering around the gloomy interior. Pausing before the prisoner, he assured himself that the latter’s wrists and ankles were well secured and then passed out again among the excited throng.
The moment he disappeared, Moorooine glided beside the aroused ranger and quickly severed the thongs about his wrists.
“Don’t stir till I tell you!” she whispered. “Me go out first an’ find best way to git off an’ cheat warriors.”
“God bless ye, my own sweet Wild Flower,” said the young man, fervently, as he pressed her heaving bosom against his own, and his lips to hers. “You risk your life for mine.”
“Mustn’t—no time now,” she said, releasing herself. “Put hands together again as before; use this knife to loose feet when time come.”
He obeyed her instantly. The noise outside precluded their being heard. They might be seen, though the guard having just passed out after looking at the prisoner, it was not probable he would soon return. But both kept a sharp watch as they talked.
“If I escape, you go with me,” said Brom.
“Yes; go help you clear.”
“You must go with me for good, Moorooine. I want you always. You shall be my wife.”
“Talk of that when more time,” she said. “Go with you now first. Have to for always, s’pose, or else warriors kill me.”
“Be very careful. If you should be found out, they’d kill you. That would make my life bitter. You must not die for me.”
“Would willin’ if need,” she said, as she pressed his hand. “There—now must go, hurry. Be back very quick!”
She noiselessly crept through the aperture and closed it. Then, with great caution, she glided forward, and passed behind a huge bowlder, from which a path led down a declivity to the river. She darted down the path, and in five minutes returned. Her own canoe was in its accustomed place, and between the rows of lodges yet came the sounds of engrossing discussion. The moment had come.
With beating heart she approached the prison-hut. But two figures hovering near rose and barred her way. They were those of Hulet and the savage before mentioned! A feeling of the bitterest disappointment and dread filled her soul as she recognized Sly Hate, whom till now she thought killed. But she quailed not.
“Come this way,” said the Indian, who was called Heavy Sleep. The girl could but obey, and the trio moved further aside.
“Listen!” said Heavy Sleep, as they halted. “Sporting Fawn has been much in woods to-night to warn our enemies, who have killed many warriors. Sly Hate has seen you, so there is no chance to tell lies, if you would. None of the warriors know this yet but Heavy Sleep. If they should find out, then what?”
“Then I would be killed,” she answered, while a shudder passed over her. She knew the object of Heavy Sleep. He had long sought her hand, but in vain. He was accounted a cruel monster, even among his own tribe; capable of committing any atrocity to gratify revenge. Many hated him, while fearing his malice. And now he held the girl’s life in his hand, and well she knew the price he would ask for it. The thought of this was what made her shudder.
“Yes, be killed hard!” he said. “But, I will save you if you will be my squaw. None of the warriors shall ever know of what you have done to-night. Be my squaw and live. Speak!”
“And if I say no?”
“Then I shall take you into the midst of the warriors yonder, and Sly Hate will tell his story,” replied Heavy Sleep, grasping her arm.
“Hearken, Heavy Sleep!” she said. “It is true that I have been in the woods; but it was to save blood, not to spill it. Many times, as you know, I have risked the favor of my people by urging them to live at peace with the whites.”
The savage clutched her arm more tightly and said:
“No need to say that again. We all know it. You love pale faces. That is enough to make you die! I and Sly Hate have watched you. You are even now going to find White Fox so as to get him away. But you never try. Which will you do? Be my squaw, or burn at the stake with the whole tribe mocking and hating your memory? Which?”
The girl could not repress a shudder, which the savage noticed. It was a terrible choice. But, her wits did not forsake her. She saw that Heavy Sleep and his ally had just come up, and did not know she already had communicated with White Fox.
“Move aside and give me time to think alone!” she replied, as she drew her arm away, and looked upward at the stars. “I am much afraid you would hate me after a while, Heavy Sleep. You would get tired of me, and then give me up to the vengeance of the tribe.”
“No!” replied the Indian, with a degree less of harshness in his tone. “Heavy Sleep would keep his word. Give you a little time; but think fast. We shall be watching you.”
He passed a few yards away with Hulet. The girl’s thoughts came and went like lightning. Heavy Sleep evidently believed she would consent, with such a fearful alternative before her. But she was fully resolved to attempt the release of Brom, if she died for it. While trying to devise some desperate expedient, a drift of clouds suddenly shut out the starlight, and she knew that, for a moment, her body would hardly be seen. She glided straight forward, as though to pass between the two nearest huts. But, instead of doing so, she suddenly turned and darted to the left; and by the time her two watchers had discovered her ruse, she was in the prison-hut beside Brom.
“It’s the last chance—run!” she exclaimed, in a wild whisper.
The young ranger had no time to question her, or even to think. Steps were heard close to the aperture where the girl had just entered. The moment she spoke, Brom cut the thongs about his ankles, and sprung up to encounter the guard, who had heard a noise and rushed to the door. A blow from Brom knocked the fellow prostrate, and, before the throng outside were well aware of it, a figure darted clear of their circle and ran like a deer toward the woods!
The air was rent with fierce yells as the crowd broke and pursued. Brom saw that he could not reach the woods in time to get clear. Within ten feet of the bluff he turned, and with one bound leaped into the deep, swift current, not twenty feet above the mouth of the subterranean passage!
As he disappeared in the water, an excited crowd appeared on the bank, astonished into momentary silence by the act. And when the moments passed, and no form broke the waters, none doubted that the prisoner had been swept into the subterranean passage, a victim to the evil spirit presiding there.
The Indian girl attempted to escape with Brom; but Heavy Sleep, as implacable as death, gave no thought then but to her capture. She, indeed, sprung clear of the lodge, and as Brom fled, with the crowd after him, she started in the same direction with the pursuers. As she suddenly darted aside from these, Heavy Sleep spied her, and, throwing his hatchet struck her senseless to the ground.
These scenes took place only a few minutes before Scarred Eagle and Mace came within view of the camp. Of what followed, the reader is already aware.