A feeling of despair swept over Owindia as the forest hid the Post from view, for she believed she had seen it for the last time. She knew that the Chilcats would be very angry at her for what she had done. She saw them emerge from the trees where they had been hidden. With what fierce eyes they beheld her, and she would not have been surprised had they fallen upon her in their fury and torn her to pieces. They were cruel and blood-thirsty for such a deed, so she thought. Instead, however, they hurried her back to their camping place, where they forced her to sit upon the ground while they surrounded her in a formidable, menacing circle.
The clouds of night had passed, and the sun was slanting down among the numerous tree tops. The day was bright and warm, but Owindia shivered as she sat there awaiting the verdict of her enemies. Her head ached, and her entire body was weary. The strain of the excitement through which she had passed, and the want of sleep were plainly visible upon her face and form. Her eyes stared forth with an unnatural light, which at first the Indians did not notice. Strange thoughts were rushing through her brain. The babble of voices about her fell meaningless upon her ears. She heard nothing of the harsh words of condemnation which came from the lips of the baffled Chilcats. Gradually the dusky figures at her side were transformed, and she saw in their stead a band of her own people, all armed ready to drive back the invaders. She was watching them as they crept through the forest. She heard the cries of death, and the yells of victory. She saw her father leading his warriors, and beheld the look of triumph upon his face as he saw the Chilcats fleeing before the attack. Her heart thrilled with pride, and she gave vent to a laugh, a loud laugh of joy to think that at last their land was free from the enemy. She sprang to her feet and began waving her arms in the wildest excitement. And he was there, too, Natsatt her lover, driving the Coast tribe before him. How he was fighting, and she was cheering him on.
The strange look in Owindia's eyes, and her excited manner startled the Chilcat warriors. They ceased their talking and stared upon the maiden standing before them. Well did they know the meaning of that expression upon her face, and the rapid words which were pouring from her lips. They shrank back with superstitious awe and dread, and more than one Indian laid his hand upon his gun. An evil spirit had entered into this Ayana squaw, so they believed, and was possessing her whole being. To them this incident was most disconcerting. The bad spirit was abroad and had entered into this woman. It had evidently been surrounding them for days, and had been working against them. No doubt the white men had something to do with the matter, and were inciting the spirit against the Chilcats. It would be necessary, therefore, to get rid of this evil one as speedily as possible. Already a feeling of fear was spreading among the warriors. Every time Owindia spoke or approached them they drew back and looked apprehensively around as if expecting that hideous creatures were about to emerge from the forest depths. Those braver than the rest realised that unless some action was immediately taken the courage of the Indians would soon ebb away, and their hope of defeating the white traders would be at an end.
It was a pathetic sight to see Owindia standing in the midst of these men, talking at random, and occasionally pointing among the trees, and calling their attention to imaginary foes.
"Ha, ha," she laughed, "the Chilcats are running away. They are afraid of the Ayana warriors. Look, look, the chief's son has fallen; he is no more. Never again will he trouble Owindia."
These words, added to what she had already said, caused more than a score of warriors to seize their guns, and train them upon the maiden. They determined to delay no longer. The evil spirit must be driven out, and the only way to do it would be to put the maiden to death. The beautiful picture she made with flushed face, and form drawn to her full height caused them to hesitate for a few moments. Never before had they seen such a squaw so full of grace and perfect loveliness. Hardened though they were their hearts were not altogether unresponsive to a certain pleasure in true beauty. They could worship it in the surge of the ocean, in the ripple of the streams, in the glory of the sunset, and in the laughter of the flowers. It was, therefore, but natural that they should shrink from taking the life of one of whom they had heard so much, and their own eyes had seen.
And as they hesitated, and Owindia's life hung by a thread, Klukwan, the messenger, stepped forward, and raised his arm for his companions to desist. He had been a silent witness of the whole proceeding, and his heart stirred within him at the idea of putting the maiden to death. In fact ever since she had entered the camp he had found it almost impossible to keep his eyes away from her face. How he longed to possess her for his own. She appealed to him not only for her beauty, but for her courage and modest demeanour.
"Kill not the squaw," he began. "Why should she be put to death? When did Chilcat warriors ever do such a thing? If the evil spirit had entered into an Ayana brave Klukwan would not say a word. But this is a squaw, daughter of a great chief. That chief is the Chilcats' enemy, but he is a brave warrior, and has a strong heart. The Chilcats honour a brave man, even though he is their enemy. This maiden has a strong heart. She saved Klukwan's life in Klitonda's lodge, and Klukwan cannot forget. The evil spirit is in her, and it must not be allowed to get away or it will do harm to the Chilcats. Bind the squaw fast to a tree, that she may be safe. The spirit cannot get away from her body now that it has taken up its abode there."
Stepping up to the maiden Klukwan placed his right hand upon her arm.
"Does the Ayana squaw dream?" he asked. "Does she see strange sights? Is the evil spirit speaking through her lips?"
Owindia turned and looked upon the brave, although she saw him not. A far away expression shone in her dilated eyes, as lifting her hand she pointed out among the trees.
"See, they come!" she cried. "The Chilcats are among the Ayana people; they will steal the women, and kill the men."
Then she began to sing in the monotonous Indian fashion a fragment of a song she had often heard around the camp fire at night. It was but one of the numerous compositions which had been handed down from generation to generation. Each had added something to the various pieces, legends, deeds of bravery, and love, until in some cases the crazy jumbles were of great length, requiring often an hour or more for their rendition. Owindia learned only the ones which appealed to her heart and mind, especially those telling of the deeds of her forefathers, and their heroism in days gone by. It was only natural, therefore, that her favourite piece should be sung when her mind was so wildly excited.
Having ended these words in the long drawn wail of the Indian manner, a sudden fancy seemed to seize Owindia's mind. She began to sing snatches of songs and hymns which her mother had taught. Some were bright, and gay; others were sombre, and full of much pathos. Her voice was as clear and full of sweetness as when Natsatt had first heard it out in the lodge in the wilderness.
The Chilcat warriors were now more firmly convinced than ever that the maiden was possessed of the evil spirit. They were not accustomed to such singing, and the tunes of the English songs and hymns made no appeal to their hearts. The singer must not be allowed to abide among them. Nothing but harm would come from her presence. Death was the only remedy. Such was the opinion of all the Chilcats when they had considered the matter except Klukwan, the messenger. He would not agree to such a proposition, and appealed to the chiefs son, who had taken but little part in the discussion.
"Klukwan will stand by the Ayana squaw," he said. "She shall not be put to death. Let any warrior raise his gun against her and he will answer to Klukwan. Make the squaw fast to a tree, so she cannot escape. Let the chiefs son speak."
Thus appealed to, and with the eyes of his men turned upon him there was nothing for the weak vacillating creature to do but to give voice to his thoughts. He knew only too well that what Klukwan said he would do would be carried out to the bitter end. He did not wish to have friction among his band at such a critical moment, when unity was needed in their attack upon the whites. He believed, too, that some of the warriors would side with Klukwan, and disastrous might be the result. According to the superstitious idea which had been instilled into him from childhood he felt that the maiden should die. But he wished to delay her death now, and put off the performing of it in order to keep peace. Something might happen, so he thought, which would not make it necessary. She might get well, or Klukwan might change his mind and consent to her death. That she should recover he earnestly desired for he wished to possess the maiden, and take her back in triumph to the coast. Such a beautiful creature added to his list of wives would make him the envy and admiration of other tribes far and near, as well as among those of his own people. He accordingly gave it as his opinion that the possessed squaw should be taken to the very tree where her father, Klitonda, had been bound, and there made fast.
Owindia made no attempt to resist the rough hands which were laid upon her. She permitted herself to be led to the tree where she was securely tied. She continued to talk, however, about the coming of the Chilcats, and occasionally she would sing. But as the day wore away she became silent, and her head drooped. She made no effort to support herself, but allowed her whole weight to bear upon the moose-hide thongs with which she was bound. Her face was hot and flushed, which even the air of evening could not cool. It was the heat of fever which was raging through her whole body. When night shut down she was left alone, all the warriors having gone to surround the Post. But she knew nothing of time or events. She was living in that strange world of wild unrealities, where the mind seems to depart from its earthly tenement and roams through vast vistas of unknown regions. As the darkness deepened, and the air grew colder her ravings returned. She called for Natsatt, and implored him to come to her. Now she was with her father out upon the trail, and again she was a little child playing by the side of her mother along the river's bank. She sang, too, not the songs of the Indians, but the ones her mother had taught her. Night, desolate night, covered her form, but a darkness more terrible shrouded her mind, though it could not silence the music of her voice which floated forth among the trees clear, sweet, and plaintive.
When Natsatt reached the Post after his experience in the forest, and his conflict with the Chilcat, he found that Dan was watching for his return, and eagerly opened the gate in the fortification for him to enter. The rest of the men were astir. In fact a number of them had been on guard all through the night, and were weary after their fruitless watch. As soon as breakfast was over they threw themselves into their bunks, and ere long were fast asleep. Natsatt noted that his companions desired to shun him. They neither spoke to him nor made any remark as to his absence. A feeling of conspiracy seemed to prevail which he could not comprehend. He knew why several hated him, but could not understand why all should turn against him.
Dan alone was unchanged, and to him Natsatt told of his experience during the past night, and of his victory over the cowardly assailant. To all this the Ranger listened most intently. At times his brow knitted, and his eyes expressed surprise.
"I can't understand it, lad," he said, when Natsatt had ended. "The lassie seems to be a prisoner among them, but why she did not leave when she had an opportunity, puzzles me."
"She went there herself," Natsatt replied, "to save us and her own people. I forced that much from the Chilcat when I had the measly wretch upon his back. He didn't wish to tell me at first, but when he felt the sharp point of my hunting-knife tickling his ribs in no delicate manner he was quite ready to speak. He was lucky to get off with only the tickling, I can tell you that. He deserved the knife right up to the handle for his base attack."
"I'm glad you let him off, lad. Never shed blood if you can possibly avoid it. Besides, he was down, and could not help himself. So the lassie went away to save us, he told you. It was certainly brave of her. But it's just what her mother would have done. She would sacrifice anything for the sake of those she loved. But there, you go off and have a sleep, while I think over what you have told me. We must save the lassie, but how it is to be done is another matter."
Natsatt made his way to his bunk, but he found it impossible to sleep. Owindia was ever before his mind, and he reproached himself for having left her alone with the Chilcats. Why had he not rushed forward and rescued her from their midst? he asked himself over and over again. It would have been better to die by her side, trying to save her, than to live without her. He thought of what the Chilcat had told him. Would Owindia really become the wife of the chief's son? Would she go back with him over the mountain, and he would never see her again? The idea was too horrible to be entertained even for a moment. He sprang from his bunk. Why was he lying there when she whom he loved better than life itself was in danger of being snatched away from him forever? He must go to her. Nothing could stop him now.
Hardly knowing what course to pursue in order to carry out his design, he made his way out of the building toward the great door of the barricade. On the threshold he stopped, for there before him were Dan and several of the men, peering intently through several of the port-holes, which had been made in the fortification. That they were deeply interested was evident from their excited manner. Natsatt pushed his way among them and at length caught a glimpse of the open space outside the Post. At once a half-smothered cry of astonishment escaped his lips, and pushing aside the man nearest him, he put his face close to the hole to obtain a better view. And then he saw all that was taking place; Owindia, with the two Chilcats by her side. What did it mean? he asked himself. What was she doing there? And as he watched he saw her turn her face toward the Post and speak. He could hear every word distinctly, and at first he was puzzled as to her meaning. Then the truth flashed upon him. She was sacrificing herself to save them. She would be true to the white men. He hardly heard what she said in conclusion, for his brain was in a whirl of excitement. He knew now that the Chilcats had brought her there in order to betray the traders, and how angry they would be when they learned what she had said. What would happen when she went back to the camp? They would no doubt subject her to much cruelty, and perhaps put her to death. No, it must not be permitted. Now was the time to rescue her. He forgot for the moment what she had said about the Indians lurking on the border of the forest. He saw only the two Chilcats who were with Owindia. He could fight them, and recover his loved one.
He turned away from the port-hole and walked rapidly toward the large door. But Dan was by his side in an instant, and laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder.
"You must not do it," he said. "It's too great a risk. The devils are among the trees as thick as flies. The whole bunch of us could not save the girl now. The Chilcats want to get us out there to cut us down in no time."
"But I must save her," Natsatt protested. "Do you think I mind the whole Chilcat tribe when Owindia is in danger? Let me go to her," and he tried to free himself from the Ranger's grasp.
"No, you don't," was the grim reply. "You're too valuable for me to lose. You're a little hot-headed now. You shan't go through yon door, so make up your mind to that."
Natsatt knew that resistance would be useless. He began to see, too, how vain would be the undertaking. He must wait for some other opportunity. Dan, seeing the look upon his face loosened his grip and peered again through the nearest port-hole.
"They've gone!" he exclaimed, "and have taken the lassie with them. Poor thing! she'll have her own trouble, I'm thinking with that bunch of wolves. Anyway, their little scheme didn't work, thanks to the girl. But they'll try something else, never fear, and we must be on our guard against them. I'm beginning to see now that we have some shrewd determined customers to deal with."
All through the day Natsatt paced restlessly up and down in the open between the store and the barricade. He could not sleep, so offered to stay on guard. He did this with a purpose, as a plan was being evolved in his mind and he needed the freedom of the night to carry it into effect. He kept a careful watch upon the open outside the Post, but no Indian could he observe. Silence brooded over the land. There was stillness, too, within the building, for all seemed to feel that night would bring an attack from the enemy. The men spent much of the time looking after their guns, and ammunition. Of the latter they had not a large supply. What they had brought with them was simply for hunting purposes, with never a thought of an engagement with the natives. Dan divided the powder and balls among the men, advising them at the same time to reserve their fire as much as possible, and not to shoot at random. In the past they had been somewhat prodigal of their ammunition, shooting at whatever they came across, whether bird or animal. Hence, when all was divided they had but twenty rounds apiece, and they well knew how little this would serve them in case of a serious or prolonged siege.
There was trouble, too, from another source. Their supply of provisions, never at any time large, was becoming much reduced. Since the arrival of the Chilcats the hunters had not gone to the hills after sheep, and now it was impossible to leave the Post. A few days at the most would see them almost on the verge of starvation unless they could add something to their larder, which under the circumstances did not seem very probable. It was, therefore, but natural that a deep feeling of dissatisfaction should prevail among the men. They felt that they had been badly treated, and blamed Dan for bringing them into the country. They had come for trading purposes, and not to fight Indians. They would not have minded a skirmish now and then with the natives if the advantage had been all on their own side. But to be surrounded by a strong implacable enemy, and to be cooped up like prisoners, with an insufficient supply of food was galling in the extreme. They did not complain to Dan, but aired their grievances among themselves.
Natsatt knew but little of what was taking place, as they did not admit him into their confidence. They were naturally jealous of the half-breed, for they noted how Dan talked much to the young man, and seemed to enjoy having him with him more than the others. But Natsatt did not worry over what his companions felt or said. It was Owindia who occupied his mind, and the one purpose of his life was to reach, and rescue her from the Chilcats. Dan would not give his permission to leave again, he was quite sure of that. Nothing could be done during the day, so he must wait until night.
The long afternoon wore slowly away, and it seemed to Natsatt that the sun was longer than usual disappearing beyond the tree tops. Slowly it settled and at length darkness stole over the land. Then Natsatt was free and ready for action. He had been relieved of guard and there was no work within the Post demanding his attention. His companions were seated in the building, enjoying their after supper smoke, so he slipped quietly away, and moved toward the fortification close to the river. He could have gone out by the door, but that would have betrayed his scheme, besides imperilling his companions in case the Indians suddenly arrived and found the door unfastened. During the afternoon he had thought out his plan of escape. He would mount one of the large wooden poles which supported the barricade from the inside, and thus scale the wall. The darkness covered his movement, and as he made very little noise the men on guard were not aware of what was taking place near at hand. It did not take him long to spring with the agility of a wild cat up the long leaning brace, and from there to the top of the pointed posts above. With some difficulty he threw himself over and holding fast by his hands lowered himself to his full arms' length. Then dropping quickly to the ground, he sped away among the trees, and hid for a brief space among a friendly thicket of fir bushes. He was armed with pistol, hunting knife, and small axe, so he did not fear an attack of one or even two Chilcats. But he must keep clear of the main body of the enemy, for against them he would have no chance at all.
To one less accustomed to the forest the difficulty and peril of the undertaking would have been almost unbearable. But Natsatt was at home in the darkest night amid the wilderness. The black objects whether stumps or stones which stood out with startling weirdness, had no terror for him. It was necessary for him to be extremely cautious lest he should stumble unawares upon the enemy. Carefully he groped his way among the trees, keeping close to the river, as he believed that the Chilcats would come more in a straight line toward the Post. He was thankful that he had escaped the vigilance of the spies, who no doubt were lurking somewhere near. On and on he moved, gliding with swiftness from tree to tree, and always peering watchfully ahead. When he believed that he was opposite the Chilcat camp, he turned sharply to the left. Before him lay the ridge of ragged rocks, on the side of which Owindia had made her escape from the few Indians who had lured her thither. Over almost the same place where the fire had been Natsatt moved, little knowing what had recently taken place there but a short time before.
Nearing at length the camping ground he advanced more cautiously and partly expected to see the light of a fire darting among the trees. But in this he was disappointed. Nothing but intense blackness surrounded him. He began to wonder what had become of the Indians. Had they all gone to the Post, and were they already surrounding the place ready to make their night attack? If so what had become of Owindia? Surely they had not taken her with them!
He paused for a while to listen, but nothing could he hear, except the beating of his own heart. He was about to move forward when a sound fell upon his ears which stayed his steps and sent the blood coursing rapidly through his veins. It was the voice of some one singing, and in an instant he knew it must be none other than Owindia's. He could not catch the words though the tune was familiar. Why was she singing? he wondered, and where could she be? Not by a fire, that was evident, or else he should have seen the light. Had she been left behind, and was she singing to keep up her courage? The thought that she was alone gave him a thrill of joy. He could reach her side, talk to her, and induce her to come with him back to the Post.
Hesitating no longer he made straight for the place from whence the sound came. The song still continued, and ere long he was but a short distance away. He peered through the darkness but could see nothing. The song suddenly ceased and all was quiet. Natsatt's heart beat fast, and he called "Owindia, Owindia," in a low voice. Receiving no response he raised his voice a little louder, but still no answer. Thinking it very strange that he could get no reply, and feeling sure that Owindia was but a few steps away, he felt in his pocket, found a match, and struck it. As the light flared up he looked eagerly around, expecting to see her standing before him. The trees stood on every hand silent and grim, though nowhere could he see the maiden. A feeling of awe crept into his heart as the tiny light died out in his fingers. Had something happened to Owindia? he wondered, and was this her spirit haunting the forest? He took a few steps forward, and then pausing, struck another match. This time his effort was rewarded, for as the light illumined the darkness for a few seconds his eyes rested upon the form of the maiden standing upright against a fir-tree about three paces to his right.
The match which Natsatt held burnt down, scorched his fingers, and went out. But no physical pain did he feel. The agony and rage which possessed his heart numbed his body to any other lesser sensation. It was a terrible ten seconds as he stood there in the darkness with that picture of the one he loved burned upon his brain. Then he leaped to her side, and spoke to her, pleading with her to speak to him, and tell who had done the dastardly deed. His words were all in vain, for Owindia gave no sign that she was aware of his presence. Wondering much, Natsatt again struck a match, and peered keenly into her face. He beheld her eyes filled with a wild unnatural light, and not looking at him, but staring straight into the forest. He noted how drawn and haggard was her face, and limp and helpless her body. In an instant the truth flashed upon him, and filled him with an overwhelming dismay. Was this his own Owindia, the one he loved better than life itself? Could it be possible that her reason had deserted her? He had loved her before with all the passion of his ardent nature. But now a deep yearning pity mingled with his affection. She needed his help more than ever.
Drawing forth his hunting-knife he severed the bonds which bound her to the tree and, her body thus released slipped in a helpless heap at his very feet. Quickly stooping, he caught her in his arms. He seized her hands in his and for the first time noted how hot they were. He felt her face and found that it, too, was burning with a fire which he knew could only come from a raging fever. "Owindia, Owindia," he murmured, "speak to Natsatt. He is here." Then he lowered his head and imprinted a kiss upon those hot lips. "You are mine," he continued, "and nothing but death can separate us now. Oh, to meet the villains who treated you thus cruelly!"
Next the helplessness of his position swept upon him. What was he to do? Owindia could not walk, and how was he to get her back to the Post? The Chilcats were already before the fortification, he believed, and would surely capture him should he attempt to go in that direction. But suppose he did reach the Post how could he gain admittance? The Indians would not let him pass, and there would be no way by which he could communicate with his companions. He was certainly in a difficult position. He could not remain where he was for if the Chilcats returned and found him there his situation would not be enviable. Neither could he build a fire, for the light would surely attract any native who might be prowling near. He must get Owindia away and at once. Perhaps he could find a sheltered place beyond the ridge of rocks where he could build a fire, and thus lie in wait for an opportunity to steal back to the Post.
While these thoughts were passing through his mind Owindia was still lying quietly in his arms. She had not spoken a word since the song had died upon her lips. She was not a heavy burden, in fact her lover was surprised at the lightness of her body. He could carry her without much trouble, he felt sure of that. Scarcely had he taken a step forward than she began to talk in her wild rambling manner. Now she was urging on the Ayana people, calling to them to drive out the Chilcats. Again it was of her father she spoke. He was in danger and she was trying to get to him. Then Natsatt's name dropped from her lips, and thrilled the heart of the young man. Why did he not come to save her from the enemy? she asked. Had he forgotten her that he was so long in coming?
"Hush, darling," Natsatt replied, pressing her more closely to his breast. "Natsatt is here. Do you not feel his arms around you? He will save you. Don't be afraid, little one."
Still she babbled on, and as Natsatt struggled slowly through the darkness, his heart was heavy within him. Occasionally he stumbled, and with difficulty regained his feet. His burden which seemed so light at first became much heavier, and at times he was forced to lay her upon the ground that he might rest his arms a little. Up and up he steadily climbed to the top of the rocky ridge, then down the opposite side straight toward the river. How long the way seemed. He had never realised that the distance was so great. The trees in the valley were smaller, and much closer together, which made travelling extremely difficult. Natsatt's progress was accordingly very slow, and it seemed a long time ere he at length came near the river. Here he paused, and placing Owindia tenderly upon the ground groped around for a suitable place to build a fire. The bank of the river at this locality was steep and rugged where the ice had torn away the earth in its onward sweep during the great spring rush. In one place a huge hole had been gouged out of the embankment, and as Natsatt examined it as well as the darkness would permit, he considered it a favourable spot to make his fire. The high bank would somewhat hide the light from being seen by the Chilcats. Searching around among the trees he gathered an armful of dry boughs and sticks and soon had the satisfaction of seeing a cheerful blaze illumining the night. Next he cut a liberal supply of fresh fir boughs and made a comfortable bed near the fire. Upon these he laid Owindia, and taking off his own buck-skin jacket placed it over her body. The maiden made no attempt to move, but remained perfectly still and quiet. Then Natsatt sat down to keep watch, and to replenish the fire whenever such work was needed.
Hour after hour the young man stayed on guard. At times Owindia fell into a fitful sleep, only to awake with a cry, from which she wandered off into other worlds, babbling of them in an unconnected manner. Natsatt kept his eyes fixed most of the time upon the maiden's face. How he longed for that vacant expression to vanish, and to hear her speak to him as of old. With her in her right mind the camp in the wild would have been a most blissful spot. He wondered how long the fever would last. Suppose she should die, and leave him alone? How could he live without her? Oh, to have a doctor near, or some one who knew what to do to help her! Would Ranger Dan know? he mused. He had lived so long among the natives perhaps he had learned something from them. Owindia must not die. He looked up into the heavens, and saw the stars twinkling down upon them. He had never thought much about higher things. He had frequently attended the little churches at the mission stations on the other side of the mountains, and had listened to the words of the missionaries. But so full of strength was he that he never felt the need of other help beyond his own. To-night, however, it was different, and he began to wonder what was above those stars. Was there any one who could help him in his present trouble? He was thinking thus when the report of a gun winged through the darkness and fell upon his ears. Leaping to his feet he sprang up the bank, and listened intently. He had not long to wait, for in a few seconds the sounds of a regular fusillade reached him. Then he knew that the battle was on in earnest, and he longed to be at the Post to assist his comrades. The shots seemed quite near, and ran in a circle around the spot where the Post was situated. The Indians had evidently surrounded the place, and were making a desperate assault upon the besieged. Presently yells of derision, and at times, of pain, split the night, showing plainly that the white men were meeting the attack with spirited determination. Natsatt thought of the insufficient supply of ammunition at the Post, and he wondered how long the besiegers could be kept at bay. When the powder and balls gave out there would be nothing left but a hand to hand struggle. He shuddered as he thought of the only outcome of such an encounter. The whites would be out-numbered ten to one, and what chance would they have against such sturdy and blood-thirsty opponents? Could his companions hold out until morning? he asked himself. Glancing away to the left he saw the horizon brightening with the light of early dawn. The distant mountain peaks were catching the first faint gleam, but the world below was still lost in the mantle of night.
Natsatt piled more wood upon the fire, and sat down by Owindia's side. No change could he see in her staring eyes which often looked upon him with no mark of recognition. His heart was growing heavier, and a deep sigh escaped his lips as he listened to the firing mingled with yells in the distance. How could he ever reach the Post, and if he did the defenders would be so occupied that they would not hear him. What was he to do? Must he allow Owindia to die there by the river without making an effort to save her life. Again he made his way up the steep bank, and paced for a time to and fro in an effort to formulate some line of action. Dawn was stealing down the mountains now, and bringing into relief objects near at hand. His face was turned upstream, and he was about to discontinue his walking in order to go back to Owindia, when his eyes rested upon an object which brought him to a sudden standstill. Then a thrill of hope shot into his heart as he looked, and hurrying forward leaped down the bank. There upon the shore, securely tied with a moose-hide thong was a large canoe, which evidently belonged to the Chilcats. Only this one could he see, although he believed that there must be others not far away. He upbraided himself for not having thought of the canoes before. The Chilcats had come downstream in them, and there must be several somewhere in the vicinity. In this craft he saw the solution of the problem which had become so difficult.
He found several paddles lying in the bottom, just where they had been left by the late occupants. Quickly untying the painter, he gave the canoe a shove and sprang in. It did not take him long to reach the place where Owindia was lying. Lifting her in his arms he laid her first upon the ground. Then gathering up the fir boughs he made with them a comfortable bed in the bottom of the canoe. This done and with the maiden lying upon them, he pushed off, and the current being strong the canoe was soon speeding swiftly down the river.
Natsatt steered close to the shore, keeping as much as possible within the dark shadows of the tall trees along the bank. He knew it would not do to run any risk, as Chilcats might be skulking near the river, and especially so when he came near the Post. Presently he changed his mind, and heading the craft for mid-stream ran it across to the opposite side of the river. He felt safer now, and could obtain a better view of the Post and its surroundings. It was too dark to see far, but as he looked he could tell that the firing from the Post had ceased entirely. He was surprised at this and wondered if his companions' ammunition had given out already. Perhaps they were reserving their scanty supply for the assault upon the barricade. He knew that Dan was too wise a general to allow his men to spend their last charges in a futile fire.
By this time he was almost opposite the Post, so turning the bow of the canoe he re-crossed the stream, and in a few minutes was close to the water-gate. Here he had hoped to make his voice heard, without any danger of the Indians seeing or hearing him. But what was his astonishment to find the gate unfastened. He could hardly believe it possible, and thought it must be a careless over-sight on the part of the defenders. Had the Chilcats made an attack there they could have gained an easy admittance. Opening the gate he ran the canoe inside, and leaping out shut to the big portal, and made it fast with the heavy bar kept for the purpose.
Leaving Owindia in the canoe he hurried up to the store, and was surprised to see none of the men inside the fortification. What did it all mean? Surely they had not been shot, and crawling within the building were huddled together there. The door leading to the store was closed. He almost dreaded to open it, fearing the worst. A strange silence and awe pervaded the place. At length he lifted his hand, opened the door, and entered. First he went into the large room, where the men were in the habit of gathering. Finding no one there he passed into the store, but stopped short on the threshold, for there before him was Ranger Dan standing alone in the centre of the room. Upon the old man's face was a fierce look of defiance. His form was drawn to its full height, and his hands clutched firmly his musket. Then the truth flashed across Natsatt's mind with a stabbing intensity. The men had deserted the Post, and had left their leader to the mercy of the Chilcats!
Natsatt had been absent from the Post about two hours before he was missed. Dan wanted to see him to discuss certain matters in connection with their mode of defence. But he could not be found. Search was made in every part of the building, and along the barricade, but without avail. The gates of the fortification were all fastened, so it was evident that he had not departed by means of them. Dan's mind was much perturbed as to what had happened to the young man. He was his main stay, and at this critical time his help was greatly needed.
The men discussed the matter with one another, and threw out hints of desertion. They were ready to surmise almost anything of an evil nature concerning the half-breed. Their knowing nods and insinuations angered the Ranger. He believed that there was some good reason for Natsatt's departure, and turned sharply upon his men.
"Don't be too sure that the lad has deserted," he said. "Where could he go if he left the Post? This is the safest place in the whole country. So cease your foolish talk about desertion. He'll turn up in good time, never fear."
"He's got Injun blood in his veins," replied one, "and wherever that streak runs you can never tell what will happen. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he's gone and joined the Chilcats to fight against us. He thinks we'll be wiped out here, and so he wishes to be on the safe side."
"Never!" Dan retorted. "He would not do such a thing; he's too much of a man for that. And as for Indian blood, the less you say about it the better. My wife was an Indian woman, and my only child had Indian blood in her veins. And, listen, the child of my dead child is out there among those Chilcat wolves. I would give all I possess to have her with me by my side. Say nothing more about Indian blood, I warn you. It touches too deeply the sacred things of my heart."
The men said nothing more to the Ranger just then. They knew from his words and actions that he was feeling keenly about Natsatt's departure, and the reference which had been made to Indian blood. The ones who were not on duty at the fortification gathered in a little group in one corner of the room, and engaged in earnest conversation. Their voices were low, and they kept an eye upon Dan who was walking to and fro in the store. They could see him every time he passed the door.
"Are we to stay here to be murdered by those red devils?" Pete Tarquill asked, looking around upon his companions. "We can't stand them off for any length of time. Our ammunition is mighty low, and our grub is about gone. Why, I haven't had a good square meal for days, and now we're down to hard pan. What's the use of us remaining here and dying like rats?"
"That's what I say," replied Tim Burke. "What good can we do by staying? If we had been sent here to hold this place for the Queen against those Chilcats, it would be different. We didn't come in here to fight Indians; we came for trading purposes. I don't want to lose my skin for the strange whim of a half-cracked old man, who has come here after a treasure, as he calls it. Did you hear what he said about the child of his dead child being out yon? What did he mean by such words, I wonder?"
"Maybe that Injun squaw that the half-breed's smitten on is the one," spoke up Larry Dasan, who was still smarting over the knockout-blow he had received from Natsatt. "I believe he's come here looking for her. I've always had my suspicion that it was something more than trade that brought him into this hell of a hole. I don't believe he'll leave the place until he gets her, and that he'd be willing to sacrifice the whole bunch of us in the undertaking."
"Why not ask him?" Pete suggested. "If he finds that we are determined to go he might see the reason of the thing. And if he won't consent there is but one thing to do. The canoe is there by the water-gate, and who is to stop us from going? It will not be Ranger Dan I am certain of that."
The men were now determined to abandon the place as soon as possible, and Pete Tarquill was chosen to interview their leader about the matter. He did not relish the task, but some one had to do it.
"I know what I shall get," he muttered. "His eyes would almost knock a man down, even though his fists don't. He's a hard customer to deal with, especially if any one opposes him."
Nevertheless he made his way to where Dan was striding up and down the room. The Ranger turned and looked upon him.
"Isn't it time to change the guard?" he asked. "It must be near midnight. I've been expecting the Indians for some time now. The dead of night is their favourite time for making an attack. They like to wait until people get drowsy and off their guard. But they won't catch us napping."
"Do you think it well to let them attack us?" Pete asked. "We haven't the ghost of a chance against the bunch that's opposing us. We have little ammunition, and our grub's about gone. We can't hold out for any length of time."
"What do you mean by not letting them attack us?" Dan demanded. "Do you want to rush them and have it all over in a short time. Yes, it would be a short time," and he gave a slight sarcastic laugh. "They'd wipe us out quicker than you could say jack-rabbit."
"No, that's not the game," Pete replied. "Let's take the canoe, and give them the slip. We can do it very well, and get far on our way before they suspect anything."
"Never!" burst from Dan's lips, while his hands clenched firmly together, and an angry light gleamed in his eyes. "I shall not leave, and all the Chilcats that ever crossed the mountains cannot make me leave until I get that child. We have twenty rounds each, and we shall give them such a hot reception that half of their number will bite the dust. We can hold out for two days, and by that time we can rush them. Think no more about leaving, but go and see that the guard is changed. Those who are not on duty had better get some sleep."
These words had barely left his lips before several sharp reports fell upon their ears. They started, and then rushed outside. All was in darkness there. Dan hurried to one of the port-holes and asked the man on duty what was the matter.
"The Injuns are outside," was the reply. "We saw their forms creeping upon us and we gave them a warm welcome. They have retreated to the woods. They were mistaken this time."
Dan immediately gave orders for all the men to go on duty, and scattered them along the barricade. It was only a few minutes before a regular volley came from the forest. The bullets sang over the fortification; they sank deep into the upstanding timbers, while several passed through the cracks between, and buried themselves into the store behind.
"Reserve your fire," Dan commanded, as he moved up and down the line. "We can't afford to waste a single shot. But when you see your man give it to him hot."
And this the men did. They waited in grim silence until they saw dim forms slinking through the gloom. The first volley which came from the wooden wall had an immediate effect, for yells of agony and derision split the night air. That the natives who were able had scurried back to the forest was quite evident, and from there continued their rain of death. How the defenders escaped some of the leaden missives was a wonder. But only one man was slightly wounded in the arm. Several times the men fired upon the Indians, and each time yells rang out through the darkness. An hour thus passed, and the Chilcat fire instead of lessening became more furious. They were shooting with greater care now, and the position of the besieged was becoming perilous in the extreme. At any instant several of them might be stretched lifeless upon the ground. The darkness, those slinking forms in the distance, and that constant fire, were all enough to chill the bravest heart. But the men who were guarding the Post were not noted for their great courage. They had never been trained to such a life as this. After a terrific volley from the enemy fiercer than any they had yet experienced, several of the men held a hurried conversation. Then three of them entered the store, and ere long returned carrying several bags upon their backs. Word was passed from man to man, and at once a rush was made for the water-gate. The bar was withdrawn, the canoe shoved into the river, and in a few minutes the men were out in mid-stream heading their craft up the Segas River.
This flight was made at the moment when Dan had gone to the farther side of the barricade where the attack of the enemy was least expected. He wished to be certain that the Chilcats were not creeping upon them from that quarter. When he returned he was surprised not to find any men at the first port-hole. He hurried on to the second and found that also deserted. With a great fear in his heart concerning what had happened he hurried along the fortification until he came to the water-gate. Feeling round he found that the canoe was gone, and then his gravest fears were confirmed. He stood for a few minutes like a man stricken dumb. Then without thinking about the unbarred gate he made his way slowly back to the store. He examined the provisions, and found that they had been raided, and only a very small supply left. The firing of the Chilcats still continued and fell upon his ears with a sickening sensation. He realised now that his last hope was gone. But he would die fighting. He would show the Chilcats that he was no coward. He gripped his musket firmly in his hand. He felt to see if his pistol was in its place. He was not afraid to die, and perhaps it was just as well he thought. What was there for him to live for? he asked himself. His plan had failed, and why should he go back to the ways of civilisation? He was anxious now for the Indians to come. He longed to have one round with them for the injury they had done him. Let them come, he was ready.
And as he thus stood defiantly in the centre of the room, Natsatt appeared before him. At first he thought it must be the young man's ghost which had returned to mock him, and a slight laugh escaped his lips.
"Dan, Dan! what is it?" Natsatt cried, going up to the old man and laying his hand upon his arm. "Have the scoundrels gone? Have they deserted the Post, and left you alone?"
"Gone; the curs have gone!" was the fierce reply. "They have deserted me, and I thought that you had gone too."
"Did you think that I would leave you? Could you not trust me?" Natsatt responded. "I left the Post last night. But I did it to save Owindia. Could you blame me when I knew that she was among those wolves?"
"And did you find her?" questioned Dan with some of his old eagerness. "Did you bring her back?"
"Yes, I found her, and have brought her with me, but—"
"But what?" Dan demanded, noticing the young man hesitate.
"She is sick."
"Sick? do you say? What is the matter with her?"
"Fever, I fear, which has unbalanced her mind for a time. Is there anything we can do for her?"
"Where is she?" and Dan stepped to the door as if expecting to see the maiden in the outer room.
"She's in the canoe at the water-gate."
"In the canoe? At the water-gate? I don't understand. I thought the canoe was taken."
"Come," Natsatt replied, "I can't tell you all now. We must do something for Owindia at once. I shall tell you later all about it."
Forgotten for a time were the Indians as they hurried along the passage-way toward the canoe. Owindia was lying just as Natsatt had left her. Picking her up tenderly in his arms he carried her back to the building, and laid her upon the bed they had days before prepared for her. Little did they then think in what way it would be first used. By the light of the candle Dan peered down upon her hot flushed face and into her staring eyes.
"Poor lassie," he murmured. "It's a pity, a great pity. Yes, she's Klota's child, I can tell that at a glance. We must save her, lad," and he turned sharply around upon Natsatt who was standing quietly at his side.
"Yes," was the reply, "but how? What about the Chilcats out yonder? We can't do anything now that the rest have cleared out."
"True, true, I had forgotten about them for the time. They haven't been doing any shooting for the last few minutes. Perhaps they have given up the attack, and have gone back to their camp. You watch by the lassie while I slip outside, and see how things look."
Dan had been gone only a few seconds when he came bounding back into the store.
"Come quick!" he cried. "They're at the Post, and trying to get in."
Seizing his musket which he had laid aside, Natsatt hurried out of the building. Peering through a port-hole he could see the Chilcats right outside the barricade. When the fire from the Post ceased they had become emboldened and rushed forward. They did not yell but like the silence before the destroying tempest they endeavoured to scale the wall and capture the place. Several had looked in through the port-holes and saw no one inside. Some were climbing upon one anothers' shoulders, and just as Natsatt turned around he saw a dusky head appear over the top of the fortification. Quickly raising his musket he fired before the venturesome intruder had time to notice his movement. There was a cry of agony, followed by a heavy thud upon the ground. Instantly wild yells ensued. No longer were the Chilcats silent in their assault. With savage determination dozens of them began to scale the wall, while others hewed fiercely with their hunting-axes upon the strong door.
The two lone defenders took up their stand part way between the building and the barricade. Whenever a head appeared over the top of the wall it became the target for an unerring marksman. But this could not last long. It was impossible to reach the natives who were hewing at the door, and from the sound of blows, and the splintering of the wood it was apparent that only a short time could elapse ere an entrance would be made.
The Chilcats seemed to realise that something was wrong within the Post. Just what it was they could not tell. But the slackening of the fire gave them greater courage in their desperate assault.
"This is getting hot!" Dan exclaimed, as he rammed down the wad of paper upon the powder he had just poured into the barrel of his musket. "I knocked that fellow off, but there are dozens more to take his place. That door will soon be down, and then it will be all up with us."
"Let's get out," Natsatt replied. "There's the canoe, and it's our only hope. You take what grub there is left, and I'll look after Owindia."
"We can't do it, lad," the Ranger responded. "The devils are at the very water's edge, and would shoot us down in a twinkling if we try such a thing. No, I'd rather stay where I am than be pumped full of holes in the canoe. We can settle a few of them before they knock us out, and that'll be some satisfaction. But, Good Lord! the door's down! Let's at them."
Dan's words were only too true, for with a crash the barrier gave way, and with wild yells of triumph a score of Chilcat warriors leaped through the opening straight toward the two defenders.
Klitonda firmly believed that Klota's spirit had visited him in the Chilcat camp, and freed him from the tree. With all the independence of his spirit, and his hatred to the medicine man, he could not easily free his mind from the teaching of childhood. He still held many things in common with his own people. To him there were spirits of air, earth, mountain, and water. He also retained his belief in his special guardian animal, the wolf. This creature was his totem, and aided him in the chase. Seldom had he ever killed a wolf, and to eat its flesh was something not to be thought of for an instant. A figure of a wolf's head he had carved with much labour and care upon the bow of his canoe, the handle of his hunting-axe, his bow, and in fact upon almost everything he possessed. If he had special success in the chase he somehow felt it was due to the good wishes of his totem; but if he took few pelts he believed that his guardian animal was against him. It was, therefore, only natural that on this night of his deliverance from his enemies the superstitious influence of generations of ancestors should strongly possess his heart and mind.
To Klitonda the voice which he heard was the voice of his lost Klota. Who else could it be there in the very presence of the Chilcats? Never for a moment did he think of Owindia. He had left her sometime before near the Post. How could she know that he was a captive bound to a tree? But had he known it was his daughter who cut the thongs not a step would he have taken from the place. He would either have carried her off bodily, or died fighting by her side.
Ignorant of who had really freed him, the chief sped away from the camp with remarkable swiftness. There was no trail to guide his steps, and in truth he needed none. He threaded the forest darkness as surely as if on a well-beaten path. A natural instinct directed him, which he had in common with the beasts of the forest, and the birds of the air. He at once set his course not back to the Post but far away westward to where he believed the Ayana Indians were encamped.
Klitonda's hands were still securely bound behind his back. He tried several times to rend asunder those gripping thongs, but in vain. His arms ached from their cramped position, and the fetters were cutting into his flesh so hard had they been twisted about his wrists. He was anxious for the darkness to pass, and often glanced eastward for the first faint light of dawn. It seemed to him a long time in coming, and when at length he beheld the sky reddening away on the horizon an expression of pleasure might have been detected upon his face. Slowly the sky brightened, and the darkness faded. The light tinged the mountain peaks, and stole quietly down to the valleys below. The long silent reaches of the great forest felt the touch of dawn, and awoke to life and action. Birds twittered sleepily among the branches and the squirrels began a new day of activity and chattering. Occasionally a belated rabbit scurried through the underbrush on its way to its secret burrow.
Klitonda was earnestly studying the various objects near at hand as he hurried on his way. Stones, small and large, arrested his attention. At times he would pause by the side of a rock and examine it carefully. Not finding what he was looking for, with a grunt of disgust he would proceed. His course at length led him to the top of a stretch of rough country, barren and bleak. A ridge of sharp rocks ran for miles north and south. Searching about Klitonda at last found a stone which seemed to suit his mind. Lying prone upon his back he brought his wrists directly over the flinty edge, and thus endeavoured to saw through the tough moose-skin thongs. As he could not see what he was doing, the stone often tore his hands instead of the bonds. The perspiration poured in great beads from the chief's face as for some time he frantically struggled to free himself. But the Chilcats knew how to tie a prisoner, and as the thongs were wound about his wrists in several coils, he found that all his efforts were in vain. At last he was forced to give up the attempt as useless. He rose to his feet and looked upon the stone. It was covered with his blood, and what had he gained? The sight before him, and the pain he was now enduring aroused him to almost maddening frenzy. He tore wildly at his bonds until the muscles of his body stood out like whip lashes. Had not the thongs been of excellent material they certainly would have been rent asunder by the infuriated chieftain. He turned and looked back toward the Chilcat camp. No sound did he utter, but the expression of rage and hatred which glowed in his eyes was more terrible than many words. What a seething ocean of passion was surging through the heart and mind of that native of the wilds as he looked. The indignity of the past night, the wrongs and insults of former years all came upon him with titanic might. He was standing upon a rock, and his appearance at that moment was more awe-inspiring than ever. He was the giant of his race, fighting a battle against overwhelming odds. He was a Promethean warrior, bound in limb, but free and unfettered in spirit.
Turning at length he left the place of his defeat, and moved with a quickened pace on his way. The fire burning in his heart was now at white heat, and he needed action as a vent to his feelings. The sun came down the valley, and poured its beams upon his uncovered head. The air became stifling, and his throat dry and parched. He neared the little stream where the Chilcats had fallen upon him. He almost scented the water some distance away. Cautiously he approached, and looked apprehensively around as if expecting to be again set upon. The water sparkled before him, but ere tasting a drop he looked eagerly around for the tokens he had dropped the day before. They were there just where he had left them, having escaped the keen eyes of his Chilcat captors. He let them lie where they were, and turned toward the little brook. How good the water looked to this thirsty chieftain as it purled on its way through a wilderness land. Along its banks the grass grew, and wild flowers rioted in profusion. How often had the wild beasts found their way to this stream to slake their thirst. Klitonda, too, had knelt at that very place and touched his lips to the water. Once he had camped right near. Klota was with him then, and Owindia was a little baby. After he had stooped down with much difficulty and satisfied his thirst he sat for a while upon a stone partly embedded in the earth. He was thinking of that day, which now seemed so long ago. He remembered how Owindia had laughed with delight as she pointed to the brook, and tried to tell them what was in her mind. They had reclined upon the ground watching her with much pride. Since then what clouds had swept over his life. Klota was gone, and the Chilcats were in the land more terrible than ever. The fierce light had faded from his eyes, and a gentle expression had taken its place. But as he thought about the Chilcats the old feeling of revenge and hatred returned. He sprang from the rock, and stepped to where the arrows were lying. He was the chief of the mountains again, the implacable enemy of the Chilcats.
He looked at the tokens before him, tied firmly together with several sinews, by Owindia's deft fingers. He could not lift them with his hands, so stooping he seized the cord with his teeth. In this manner alone could he carry them, so without another moment's hesitation he sprang up the slope, leading from the brook, and sped along the trail.
The sun rode high in the heavens, and then dipped away toward the west as Klitonda paused upon the brow of a steep hill. He knew that his destination was not far off. The scent of a mountain lake drifted to his sensitive nostrils. The chief's mind was somewhat uneasy. What if his people were not there? Suppose they had not yet arrived? He knew how many lakes there were, and at times it was uncertain where the largest band of Indians would be gathered. He thought of Owindia, and what might happen to her and the white men should he have to go farther afield in search of the Ayana. The distance was long as it was, and it would be necessary to make haste.
Descending the slope with much swiftness he at length came in sight of a large lake lying before him like a precious gem in its dark green setting of fir and spruce trees. Around the edge of the water ran a shadowy fringe where the silent forest border was mirrored in those clear liquid depths. Not a ripple disturbed the glassy surface of the lake, and not a sound could Klitonda hear. He was fearful lest the Indians were not there. Approaching cautiously he soon obtained a better view of the shore just below the slope. Then he beheld several thin columns of smoke rising up phantom-like into the still air. His people were there! He moved somewhat nearer that he might observe them. It was possible, he thought, that a band of Chilcats might be fishing in the lake, and so he must be on his guard. Then he wondered if the Ayana would welcome him. If the score of hunters who had given him the tokens were there all would be well. But suppose they were absent!
Creeping still nearer, and crouching behind a thick low-set fir tree he was able to look right down upon the camp. That they were his own people he soon observed, and the discovery sent a thrill of satisfaction through his heart. He watched them for a while ere going down to join them. There was a large number present, men, women, and children. It was supper time, and they were cooking fresh fish over the coals. The appetising smell was wafted up the slope and made Klitonda realise how hungry he was. He had eaten very little since leaving his own lodge by the Post. Children were playing quietly along the edge of the lake, and the hunters were lying upon the ground. The women alone were working. It was a scene of peace and happiness, such as Klitonda delighted to look upon. A feeling of pride came into his heart. They were his own people, and he was their chief. Soon the invaders would be driven out, and no longer would the Ayana be fearful of their ferocious enemy. They would dwell in peace, plenty, and safety.
Having observed them for a few minutes Klitonda left his hiding place and hurried down to the camping ground. His sudden arrival caused considerable consternation among the Indians. They gathered around him and gazed wonderingly upon their bound chief, and his bleeding hands. No questions were asked, and in truth they were not needed. They knew only too well what had happened, for who could bind their mighty leader but the Chilcat wolves.
Klitonda's gaze roved swiftly over the hunters. He saw a number of the young men who had given him the tokens. He said not a word but going to one dropped the arrows at his feet.
"Cut the thong," he demanded.
"Take the tokens," he continued, when the young man had complied with his request.
"Give them to the rest of the hunters," he ordered. "Show them the blood marks upon them. They will know the meaning."
Silently the chief's orders were obeyed, and out of the score of arrows thirteen were delivered.
"Where are the others?" Klitonda asked.
"At the Great Lake," was the reply. "Two sleeps from here."
Then one of the hunters seized his knife, and stepping up to the chief was about to cut the thong which bound Klitonda's hands. But the latter drew back, and shook his head.
"Wait," he said. "Do not free your chief yet. Listen to what he has to say. The Ayana Indians see these bound hands. Do they know who did it? Do they realise that the Chilcat dogs are in this land, and did this deed? The spirit of Klota came to Klitonda when he was tied to a tree and gave him liberty, and he has come to his own people. The sun shines, the streams run through the land, and the birds fly in the air. They are free, but the Ayana people are slaves. How long will this last? The time has now come, and Klitonda calls the Ayana warriors to arouse, and drive back the Coast dogs. The white men will help them. Look upon your chief's hands bound and covered with blood. Klitonda is tired; he has come a long way. He is hungry. But do not give him any food, do not give him a place to rest, and do not cut the thongs which bind his bleeding hands unless the Ayana warriors will follow their chief. He will not stay, but will leave this camp. There are warriors here who will come with him," and he looked upon the thirteen young hunters as he spoke, "but they are not enough. Some of them are away, and cannot get here in time. Who among the rest will take those blood-marked arrows, and follow Klitonda?"
There was deep silence for a brief space when the chief had finished speaking. The hunters looked at one another as if to know who would be the first to make a move. Presently one sturdy young brave stepped forward, picked up a token, and walking over stood by the side of the thirteen pledged warriors. He was immediately followed by another, and then another until soon all the arrows were taken. A keen interest now pervaded the entire camp. The bound chief, and the response of the young men for service had a deep effect upon all. Hunters who were reclining upon the ground felt their hearts thrill as never before. They saw, too, the eyes of the women turned upon them in a half-pitying, reproachful manner. They became ashamed of their own cowardice and inaction. Rising to their feet several made their way to the side of their chief. Others followed their example, and in a few minutes every young hunter in the camp had signified his intention of following Klitonda in his great march against the Chilcats.