An ugly frown darkened the savage's face--a frown wherein was depicted
a number of slumbering passions.
"The pale-face girl is the last survivor of a train that the warriors
of Sitting Bull attacked in Red Canyon. Sitting Bull lost many
warriors; yon pale squaw shot down full a half-score before she could
be captured; she belongs to the warriors of Sitting Bull, and not to
the great chief himself."
"Yet you have the power to free her--to yield her up to me. Consider,
chief; are you not enough my friend that you can afford to give me the
pale-face girl? Surely, she has been tortured sufficiently to satisfy
your braves' thirst for vengeance."
Sitting Bull was silent.
"What will the Scarlet Boy do with the fair maiden of his tribe?"
"Bear her to a place of safety, chief, and care for her until I can
find her friends--probably she has friends in the East."
"It shall be as he says. Sitting Bull will withdraw his braves and
Scarlet Boy can have the red-man's prize."
A friendly hand-shake between the youth and the Sioux chieftain, a
word from the latter to the grim painted warriors, and the next
instant the glade was cleared of the savages.
Fearless Frank then hastened to approach the insensible captive, and,
with a couple sweeps of his knife, cut the bonds that held her to the
torture-stake. Gently he laid her on the grass, and arranged about her
half-nude form the garments Sitting Bull's warriors had torn off, and
soon he had the satisfaction of seeing her once more clothed properly.
It still remained for him to restore her to consciousness, and this
promised to be no easy task, for she was in a dead swoon. She was even
more beautiful of face and figure than one would have imagined at a
first glance. Of a delicate blonde complexion, with pink-tinged
cheeks, she made a very pretty picture, her face framed as it was in a
wild disheveled cloud of auburn hair.
A hatful of cold water from a neighboring spring dashed into her
upturned face; a continued chafing of the pure white soft hands; then
there was a convulsive twitching of the features, a low moan, and the
eyes opened and darted a glance of affright into the face of the
Scarlet Boy.
"Fear not, miss;" and the youth gently supported her to a sitting
posture. "I am a friend, and your cruel captors have vamosed. Lucky I
came along just as I did, or it's likely they'd have killed you."
"Oh! sir, how can I ever thank you for rescuing me from those
mercile
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