ed outright.

The plume-bonnet was now placed on my head. It was fortunate the brave
had one--for this magnificent head-dress is rarely worn on a
war-expedition; fortunate, for it aided materially in completing the
counterfeit. With it upon my head, the false hair could hardly have
been detected under the light of day.

There was no more to be done. The painter, hairdresser, and costumier,
had performed their several offices--I was ready for the masquerade.

CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE.

THE LAST HOURS ON THE TRAIL.

More cautiously than ever, we now crept along the trail--advancing only
after the ground had been thoroughly "quartered" by the scouts. Time
was of the least consequence. The fresh sign of the Indians told us
they were but a short way ahead of us: we believed we could have ridden
within sight of them at any moment.

We did not wish to set eyes on them before sunset. It could be no
advantage to us to overtake them on the march, but the contrary. Some
lagging Indian might be found in the rear of the band; we might come in
contact with him, and thus defeat all our designs.

We hung back, therefore--allowing sufficient time for the savages to
pitch their camp, and for their stragglers to get into it.

On the other hand, I did not desire to arrive late. The council was to
be held that night--so she had learned--and after the council would come
the _crisis_. I must be in time for both.

At what hour would the council take place?

It might be just after they had halted. The son of a chief, and a chief
himself--for the white renegade was a leader of red men--a question
between two such men would not remain long undecided. And a question of
so much importance--involving such consequence--property in body and
soul--possession of the most beautiful woman in the world!

Oh! I wondered! Could these hideous, ochre-stained, grease-bedaubed
brutes appreciate that peerless beauty? Impossible, I thought. The
delicate lines of her loveliness would be lost upon their gross eyes and
coarse sensual hearts. That pearl beyond price--paste would have
satisfied them as well--they could not distinguish the diamond from
common glass.

And yet the Comanche is not without love-craft. Coarse as might be the
passion, no doubt they loved her--both loved her--red savage and white
savage.

For this very reason, the "trial" would not be delayed; the question
would be speedily decided--in order that the quarrel of