The Fur Bringers Part 66

"What's the matter?" she cried. "I'll take care of you." She drew the arm down. "Speak to them!" she said again.

Nesis slowly raised her head. Her eyes crept to Colina's, humble and unspeakably mournful. She opened her mouth and pointed within.

Colina looked--and sickened. A little cry of utter horror was forced from her, and she fell back a step, She saw why Nesis did not speak.

The disclosure was too sudden and dreadful.

For the first and last time during that hazardous enterprise her strong spirit failed. She became as pale as snow and her hands flew to her breast. Cora, watching her, slipped out of the saddle and glided to her aid.

The weakness was momentary. Before Cora got to her the color came winging back into Colina's cheeks. She thrust the half-breed girl from her and, striding forward, faced the a.s.sembled Indians with blazing eyes.

"You cowards!" she cried ringingly. "You pitiful, unmanly brutes! I don't know which one of you did it. It doesn't matter. You all permitted it. You shall all suffer for it. I promise you that!"

Under the whips of her eyes and voice they cringed and scowled.

Colina thrust her riding-crop into the hands of Nesis. "Get on that horse," she commanded, pointing to the pack-animal. "Mount!" she cried to Cora.

Meanwhile, from her own saddle she was hastily unfastening her rifle.

She resolutely threw the lever over and back. At the ominous sound the Indians edged behind each other or sought cover behind convenient teepees.

Nesis and Cora were mounted. Colina, keeping her eyes on the Indians, said to them: "Go ahead. Walk your horses. I'll follow." She swung herself into her own saddle.

Cora and Nesis started slowly out of the square. Colina followed, swinging sidewise in her saddle and watching the Indians behind.

None offered to follow directly, but Colina observed that those who had disappeared around the teepees were catching horses beyond. Others running out of the square on the other side had disappeared around the spur of the hill.

Plainly they did not mean to let her take Nesis unopposed.

The girls finally issued from among the teepees and extended their horses into a trot. Cora rode first, her stolid face unchanged; from moment to moment she looked over her shoulder to make sure that Colina was safe. Nesis, blinded with tears, let her horse follow unguided, and Colina brought up the rear.

Colina's face showed the fighting look, intent and resolute. Her brain was too busy to dwell on tragedy then.

Rounding the hill, she saw that those who had gone ahead had disappeared. The horses that had been grazing here were likewise gone.

It was not pleasant to consider the possibility of an ambush waiting in the woods ahead. Other Indians began to appear in pursuit around the hill.

Seeing the girls, they pulled in their horses and came on more slowly.

Colina, wis.h.i.+ng to see what they would do, drew her horse to a walk, whereupon the Indians likewise walked their horses.

Evidently they meant to stalk the girls at their leisure.

Colina, like a brave and hard-pressed general, considered the situation from every angle without minimizing the danger. She had really nothing but a moral weapon to use against the Indians. If that failed her, then what?

Night was drawing on, and it would be difficult to intimidate them with eyes and voice after dark. Moreover, her horses were fatigued to the point of exhaustion. How could she turn them loose to rest and graze with enemies both in the front and the rear?

She knew that a favorite Indian stratagem is to stampede the adversaries' horses after dark. Colina carried the only gun in their little party.

Striking into the woods out of sight of their pursuers, they urged their horses to the best that was in them. Colina bethought herself of profiting by Nesis's experience.

"Nesis," she called, "you know these people! What should we do?"

Nesis, rousing herself and turning her dreadfully eloquent eyes upon Colina, signified that they must ride on for the present. When the sun went down she would tell what to do.

For an hour thereafter they rode without speaking.

While it was still light they came out on another meadow. Nesis signed to Colina that they should halt at the edge of the trees on the other side, and, picketing the horses, let them graze for a little while.

It was done. The horses had to feed and rest, and this looked like as good a place as any. Meanwhile Cora built a fire and cooked their supper as unconcerned as if it were a picnic party an hour's ride from home.

They had no sooner dismounted than the Indians appeared out of the woods at the other side of the meadow. Seeing the girls, they likewise dismounted without coming any closer, and built a great fire.

About a quarter of a mile separated the two fires. It grew dark.

Colina sat out of range of the firelight, watching the other fire.

Nesis took the gun and went on up the trail to guard against the surprise from that side. Cora kept an eye upon the dim shapes of the tethered horses, and watched her mistress with sullen, doglike devotion.

After an hour and a half Nesis returned, and signing to Cora to saddle the horses, made a reconnaissance across the meadow.

Coming back to the fire presently, she indicated to Colina that they were not watched from that side, and that they should now ride on.

Evidently the Indians thinking they had them trapped in the trail were careless. Indians are not fond of scout duty in the dark in any case.

They softly made ready, taking care not to let the firelight betray their activities. Nesis's last act was to heap fresh wood on the fire.

Colina, approving all she did was glad to let her run things. She could not guess how she purposed evading the Indians in front.

They mounted, and proceeded into the woods, walking their horses slowly. Colina could not make out the trail, but her horse could.

Nesis led the way. They climbed a little hill and descended the other side. At the bottom the trail was bisected by a shallow stream making its way over a stony bed to the river.

Halting her horse in the middle of it, Nesis allowed Colina to approach, and pointed out to her that they must turn to the right here, and let their horses walk in the water to avoid leaving tracks.

For more than an hour they made a painfully slow journey among the stones. The intelligent horses picked their way with noses close to the ground.

They were now between the steep high banks of a coulee. The trees gradually thinned out, and a wide swath of the starry sky showed overhead. Colina's heart rose steadily.

The Indians could not possibly find the place where they had left the trail until daylight.

They would instantly understand their own stratagem, of course, but they must lose still more time, searching the bed of the creek for tracks leaving it. If only the horses had been fresher!

Finally Nesis left the bed of the creek, and urged her horse obliquely up the steep side of the coulee on the left.

This was the side farther from the lower village, and the Enterprise trail, and Colina wondered if she had not made a mistake.

Mounting over the rim of the coulee a superb night-view was open to them. Before them rolled the bald prairie wide as the sea, with all the stars of heaven piercing the black dome overhead.

It was still and frosty; the horses breathed smoke. To Colina's nostrils rose the delicate smell of the rich buffalo gra.s.s, which cures itself as it grows. The tired horses, excited by it, pawed the earth, and pulled at the lines.

They halted, and Nesis turned her face up, fixing their position by the stars. She finally pointed to the southeast. Colina knew it was southeast because when she faced in that direction the north star, friend of every traveler by night, was over her left shoulder.

"But the Kakisa village, the trail back to Enterprise is there," she objected, pointing northeast.