ad against a convenient stone, and brought the
combat to a sudden close. Without a moment's loss of time, Tim gagged
and bound his adversary. Then he rose up with a deep inspiration, and
wiped his forehead, as he contemplated him.
"All this comes o' your desire not to shed human blood, Whitewing," he
muttered. "Well, p'raps you're right--what would ha' bin the use o'
killin' the poor critturs. But it was a tough job!"--saying which, he
lifted the Indian on his broad shoulders, and carried him away.
While this fight was thus silently going on, hidden from view of the
camp by the hillock, Whitewing crept forward to meet Brighteyes and the
two girls, and these, with Lightheart, were eagerly awaiting the
trapper. "My brother is strong," said Whitewing, allowing the faintest
possible smile to play for a moment on his usually grave face.
"Your brother is tough," returned Little Tim, rubbing the back of his
head with a rueful look; "an' he's bin bumped about an' tumbled on to
that extent that it's a miracle a whole bone is left in his carcass.
But lend a hand, lad; we've got no time to waste."
Taking the young Blackfoot between them, and followed by the silent
girls, they soon reached the thicket where the horses had been left.
Here they bound their captive securely to a tree, and gave him a drink
of water with a knife pointed at his heart to keep him quiet, after
which they re-gagged him. Then Whitewing led Lightheart through the
thicket towards his horse, and took her up behind him. Little Tim took
charge of Brighteyes. The young sister and the bosom friend mounted the
third horse, and thus paired, they all galloped away.
But the work that our young chief had cut out for himself that night was
only half accomplished. On reaching the rendezvous which he had
appointed, he found the braves of his tribe impatiently awaiting him.
"My father sees that we have been successful," he said to Bald Eagle,
who had been unable to resist the desire to ride out to the rendezvous
with the fighting men. "The great Manitou has given us the victory thus
far, as the white preacher said he would."
"My son is right. Whitewing will be a great warrior when Bald Eagle is
in the grave. Go and conquer; I will return to camp with the women."
Thus relieved of his charge, Whitewing, who, however, had little desire
to achieve the fame prophesied for him, proceeded to fulfil the prophecy
to some extent. He divided his force into
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