“And we’ll run her to earth before nine o’clock, you mark my words,” said Garrett. “Lucky for you I am your leader, or you would have gone back to meet Will Jackwood.”
“Not if I knows it,” said Tracey. “Will Jackwood never sees me again if we don’t find her in the morning. Now I think of it, where is the Indian girl?”
“I never thought of her,” said Garrett. “Can it be possible that she killed the men?”
“Oh, bosh; she only had a bow and arrows and it took a strong man to harness Joel Davis. I’ll be cussed if I understand it at all. Say, Jack, did you see any thing of the Indian girl’s trail?”
“She went another way from the camp, on a run too. It must have been some awful looking critter that tackled Joel Davis, to skeer the girls so.”
“You are right,” said Garrett. “Now then, as Jack has worked hard and we want him to lead again to-morrow, Tracey will keep camp for two hours and the rest of you as you can agree, until morning. I’m going to have a snooze, myself.”
He wrapped himself in a blanket and threw himself down at the foot of a tree, while the rest in a discontented manner drew lots for the choice of the hours of watching. After this had been settled the lucky ones took their blankets and lay down, while Tracey lighted his pipe, moved out a short distance in the darkness and sat down to watch. The man was sullen, and had not yet got over his little brush with Garrett upon the fate of Tom Bantry, and he muttered to himself about the pride of rank which enabled Garrett to sleep, while he was forced to watch.
They built no fire, for it was a clear summer night and even the blankets were scarcely needed. Tracey’s pipe glowed through the night, showing those of his companions who yet slept, where he sat in the shadow. After a time the man began to doze, and did not see the dark figure that crawled slowly toward him until it stood erect against the trunk of the tree against which he was seated. A moment after, a long arm was stretched out and clutched his throat in so fell a clasp that it seemed to collapse beneath the pressure, and in a moment more he lay without a struggle or a groan supine beneath the tree.
The strange being who had done the work, bent over the insensible form and was busy about something for a short time, and then taking up the pipe which Tracey had dropped and which had not been extinguished, he sat down near the body of the fallen renegade and began to smoke, first picking up the cap of his victim and placing it upon his head, glancing now and then at the sleeping camp. When the pipe was smoked out he arose and stole softly to the side of Dick Garrett and looked down into his face.
The moonlight shone full upon him, and showed a horrible figure of gigantic mold, covered from head to foot with a hairy substance, while the eyes looked fiercely from his shaggy eyebrows upon the sleeping ruffian. His attitude was menacing, and once or twice the right hand dropped to a hairy girdle about his waist, as if to draw a huge knife which was suspended there, but upon second thought he seemed to change his mind, and gathering up the rifles of the party, he carried them a little distance into the woods, and returned this time to take away the knives and pistols, most of which were thrown together in a heap, at the place where the rifles had been stacked. Some of the villains had their small-arms upon their persons, but these the intruder did not attempt to touch, and waving his hands triumphantly above his head, he bounded into the thicket, and was seen no more.
Daylight came and they began to yawn and stretch themselves, those who ought to have gone upon guard long before, looking mystified at being allowed to sleep until morning.
“Tracey went to sleep, that’s all,” said Garrett. “Go and kick the brute, somebody. There is no telling what might have happened through his cussed carelessness.”
One of the men sprung to the spot where the recumbent figure of Tracey was seen, and had actually drawn back his foot to kick him, when he saw that his hands were tightly bound, and a gag thrust into his mouth. His cry of astonishment awoke the rest, and they quickly surrounded their fallen comrade, relieved him of the ligatures, and helped him to arise. The eyes of the man were rolling fearfully, and he gasped for breath.
“Ha!” he said, at last. “A pretty set of fellows you are, to let a man stay in that way all night. Dunderheads—sleepers—ten thousand curses on your heads!”
“Steady, Tracey,” said Garrett. “What does this mean?”
“It means you are a lot of lazy thieves, or you would have found this out four hours ago.”
“Who did it?”
“How do I know? I was sitting there smoking my pipe, when I felt a great hairy hand upon my throat, and I was choking. Then I lost my senses, and when I came to myself, I was lying here, anchored to the tree, and unable to move hand or foot.”
“Why didn’t you sing out?”
“Why didn’t I fly?” retorted Tracey, angrily. “I wouldn’t be a fool if I were you, Dick Garrett. Oh, curse the hand, whoever it was. Where’s my rifle?”
The question naturally drew their attention to their own weapons, and as they noted the loss, curses both loud and deep were vented upon the head of the being who had done this injury to them. Garrett actually foamed at the mouth in his anger, and ran in a frantic manner up and down the camp, cursing Tracey, their unknown enemy, any thing and every thing under the sun, in no measured terms.
“That’s it,” said Tracey. “Curse your own sleepy heads, and let me alone.”
“Look for sign, Jack Fish,” said Garrett, turning to their trailer. “Tell me who has done this?”
“It’s the same man that killed the boys, and then followed Miss Sadie,” said Jack. “Hyar’s his trail, plain as writing, and I’ll be cussed if it don’t beat me to tell whether he’s man or beast.”
“He shall not beat me,” hissed Dick Garrett. “Take the trail of the girl and follow, for we’ll have her now, rifles or no rifles.”
The trailer obeyed without a word, and they started out upon the trail. But, as they emerged from the woods and entered a great clearing, every man paused in alarm, for there, just in front, and covering them with one of their own rifles, while the rest lay at his feet, stood the hairy monster who had stolen in upon their camp the night before.
“Stop!” he cried, in a hoarse, unnatural voice. “For your lives, stop. Move hand or foot and you are dead!”
They halted, and stood facing the leveled tube, trembling in every joint, while the fierce eyes, glancing along the brown barrel, held them enthralled.
We left Sadie in charge of those desperadoes, while the battle in the swamp was progressing. They were sulky at not being allowed to take part in the fight, and only returned gruff answers to her questions, while keeping a strict watch upon the girls.
They stood under a great tree, whose spreading branches, loaded with foliage, were impenetrable to the eye, and would have formed a secure hiding-place, and none of them saw the long, hairy arm extended, until a double report stretched two of the guards dead upon the sod. Then came a rustling sound, and the gigantic being, who afterward appeared to the men of Garrett in the woods, bounded from the tree, holding in his hand a gleaming knife. With a scream of horror, Sadie fled into the forest, and Minneoba, believing that she saw a demon of the lower world, also turned in flight, but paused upon the edge of the woods, and looked back to see a fearful duel between the man named Davis and the strange being who sprung from the tree. They seemed to be complete masters of their weapons, and for a moment the issue seemed doubtful, but the gigantic strength of the unknown prevailed, and Davis fell, covered with many wounds. The victor stood erect, and seeing that Sadie had fled, uttered a hoarse cry, and fixing his eyes upon her trail, bounded away in pursuit. Minneoba, like all Indian girls, was superstitious, and believed that it would be death to follow the wild being into the woods, and turning, hurried on toward Black-Hawk’s camp, intending to ask aid from him in the recovery of her friend. Sadie, in the mean time, had put all the distance she could between herself and the hideous being who had assailed her guards, and was hurried in her flight by hearing his deep voice crying out after her, as she rushed on.
She tried every trick of wood-craft which she had learned from her father—who was a skillful scout—when she became certain that the horrible creature was really in pursuit. How she finally eluded him by creeping beneath the bushes, and then turning away from the course she had been pursuing, we have before seen, and late in the afternoon she found herself in the midst of a deep forest, pathless as the sea, not knowing which way to turn. She was alone—alone in the depths of that untrodden wilderness, the haunt of wild beasts and the hunter who followed them, without a weapon or guide. Never, perhaps, was a tenderly-nurtured woman placed in so strange a situation before. Look which way she would, there seemed to be no hope of succor. Strange sights and sounds were heard, slimy snakes crept softly over the leaves, great birds flitted through the branches, and she heard the cry of the wildcat and panther in the distance. Wearied and hopeless, she sunk down upon a mossy knoll, and almost wished she had not fled from the monster who followed her. But it would not do to remain there, and she rose and staggered on her way, hoping against hope that something would happen to give her aid.
She was nearly famished, and coming upon a place where the succulent bulb known as the “ground-nut” grew in profusion, she set to work and dug up the bulbs with her fingers, following the white stems in their various turnings among the roots until she found the article she sought. It took a long time to satisfy her hunger, as the nuts were not larger than a rifle ball, and were hard to find, and then she began to look about for a place of rest, as it would soon be dark. She reached a great opening, in the center of which a huge pile of logs and brush was heaped, and removing some of these, made a couch for herself among the branches, drew others over her head, and resigned herself to an All-protecting Power. Even in times of difficulty and danger sleep will come to the weary, and she lost consciousness, and no longer feared her enemies. Morning came and found the sweet girl still sleeping, when she was suddenly aroused by a harsh voice crying out a deadly menace, and peeping from her place of concealment, saw the Forest Fiend facing the knot of helpless scoundrels under the leadership of Dick Garrett.
“It is a man, after all,” she murmured. “Perhaps I would have done better to have let him overtake me, for it seems he fights against these villains. Perhaps he is mad, poor creature!”
“Let’s make a rush on him altogether, boys,” whispered Garrett. “Curse it, five men ought to whip one.”
“But he’s got the rifles, the critter,” whined Tracey. “I tell you that if you had been in his grip once, you wouldn’t be so ready to try him again. He’s got a hold like an iron vice, that devil has.”
“Don’t try to run,” cried the Forest Fiend. “It will not be safe; he who flies first, dies first!”
“What do you want from us?” screamed Garrett. “Do you know who I am, curse you?”
“I know you,” replied the strange being, wildly. “You are a murderer and a robber, and deserve death for a hundred crimes. Why don’t you come on? what are you afraid of? You tremble at the sight of the Forest Fiend, murderer that you are.”
“Won’t you back me, boys?” hissed Garrett; “I tell you I’ll be the first to rush at him, if you will agree to follow.”
“He can kill three of us before we get within striking distance,” replied Jack Fish. “I guess we had better give up boys; maybe he’ll let us off.”
Garrett heard what he said, and thrusting his hand into the bosom of his hunting-shirt, drew a long double-barreled pistol, his eyes gleaming with rage.
“You’d turn traitor, would you?” he screamed. “Now see here, rush on that devil, you and Tracey, or I shoot you where you stand.”
“Don’t do it, Dick,” pleaded Jack Fish, dropping on his knees. “I’ll fight any thing human, but not that dreadful creature. Don’t force us on him, for the love of God.”
“I’ll do it,” replied Garrett, fiercely. “Up and at him, you base hounds; up, I say!”
Goaded on by fear of the weapon of their leader, the men sprung on, catching up clubs as they ran. But when they had gained a hundred feet from the weapon of Garrett, and where it would scarcely reach them, they threw up their hands in token of submission, and fell upon their faces. The Forest Fiend fired over them, and a man who stood at Garrett’s elbow fell, shot through the heart. The others, who had each a pistol, seeing that nothing was to be gained by flight, rushed at the immovable figure of their enemy, who caught up another weapon and fired again, killing the foremost man. Garrett saw that there was no hope, and calling to the last man, sprung toward the thicket. Hearing the crack of the rifle, he turned back and saw his friend fall, while the stern executioner caught up another rifle and leveled it. As the bullet sped, Garrett sprung into the air and fell upon his face, just as Jack Fish and Tracey, who had taken advantage of their opportunity, reached the thicket in safety.
Their terrible adversary sprung toward the fallen leader without waiting to reload his weapon or take up a new one, but to his rage Garrett uttered a loud laugh of derision and sprung to his feet, and the next moment the leaves concealed him from view. He had been “playing ’possum,” and was not hurt in the least, as he had managed to fall just in time to escape the well-aimed bullet. The Forest Fiend darted back for a rifle, but he was a moment too late, although he fired into the thicket, and then, snatching up a powder-horn and bullet-pouch, darted away in pursuit.
The moment he was gone Sadie came out of her place of concealment, selected a rifle and ammunition from the heap, and hurried away, glad of the opportunity to get out of a dangerous neighborhood. She could not control her fear of the strange being who had come to her aid so opportunely, and continued her flight until she felt safe from pursuit, and then sat down, panting, loaded the rifle which she had taken, and prepared to defend herself from any assault.
“Who and what is that wonderful being?” she murmured. “How brave he is; how little he cared for that gang of desperate scoundrels, who were doubtless in pursuit of us! Oh, I hope he may overtake Richard Garrett and avenge the murder of my poor father! Melton, where are you? Have you fallen a victim to these base wretches who regard human life as a plaything? God forbid!”
As she was rising to proceed upon her way she heard a slight rustle among the bushes, and grasping her rifle turned in the direction of the sound. But she dropped the weapon with a cry of delight, for the bushes parted and Minneoba suddenly appeared and ran to her white sister, clasping her in her arms.
“Sadie, my sister,” she said, softly kissing her again and again. “The heart of Minneoba has been very sad. She feared that the evil demon of the woods had destroyed the Wild Rose, and that her poor Indian sister would never see the face she loved again.”
If Minneoba was delighted, how much greater was the joy of Sadie, who could now hope to escape from the toils of her enemies, for she knew that the forest was to the Indian girl as easy to tread as a ball-room floor for her. She returned the caresses showered upon her, and for a moment the two girls forgot that aught of evil or danger hung over them.
“I have been to my father’s camp,” said Minneoba, “and many warriors are searching for you. Black-Hawk loves the Wild Rose for her father’s sake, and will give her a shelter. His heart is very sad because the men of Garrett have killed the good white man, but what can he do? The war has commenced and the warriors would say he had turned woman if he was angry at the death of a white man. Let us go.”
The two girls set out together, threading the mazes of the forest with an ease which only a forest life could impart, the Indian girl taking the advance, and chatting merrily with her companion as she proceeded. They had not gone far when they were met by two warriors, who expressed their satisfaction in their peculiar manner, and at once led the way to the river, which was not far away, and where a canoe was waiting in which they descended the stream, a distance of about three miles, landed upon a green point, and assisted Sadie to leave the canoe, which was then carefully concealed by leaves and brush. This done, the warriors again led the way, the two girls following, and they came suddenly upon a great camp of the Indians. More than four hundred people, principally fighting braves, although there was a small number of women and children, were resting in the beautiful glade, most of them engaged in cleaning their weapons and getting ready for the battle which was to come. Black-Hawk and Will Jackwood were conversing together apart from the rest, and the latter started forward with a look of delight as he saw Sadie, and advanced at once, closely followed by Black-Hawk.
“Welcome to the Indian camp, Sadie,” said Jackwood, endeavoring to take her hand. “You can not tell how unhappy I have been since I knew that you were lost.”
She took no notice of his extended hand, but went on to meet Black-Hawk, who greeted her kindly.
“Let the Wild Rose rest under the shelter of a Sac lodge,” he said. “Black-Hawk has been driven from the places he loved by the white men, but he can not forget that there are just white men, who would not do a wrong to the simple Indian. Such a man was the father of the Wild Rose.”
“Black-Hawk,” said Sadie, as she took the proffered hand, “when my father drove away the bad men who sought your life, you promised to be a friend to us. Now the time has come for you to keep your word.”
“Black-Hawk is not a white man, to speak with a double tongue. What he has spoken—he has spoken. Let the Wild Rose ask what she will from Black-Hawk, and if it is in his power, she shall have what she asks.”
“My father is dead,” she said, mournfully. “The bad men who follow William Jackwood, killed him because he would not kneel to them or beg for his life. Now, Jackwood follows me and I fear him, and I ask the protection of the great chief from this bad man.”
“Has the son of Red-Bird lied to me?” cried Black-Hawk, sternly. “He told me that the Wild Rose loved him and would come into his lodge gladly.”
“He has lied,” she answered. “He knows that I hate him above all men on earth, and that I would die sooner than permit myself to be his wife.”
“Be careful, girl,” hissed Jackwood. “You will raise a tempest which you can not quell, if you do not look out.”
“I have no fear of the result. Any thing would be preferable to a union with such a wretch as you are.”
“Look you, Black-Hawk,” cried Jackwood, turning fiercely upon the chief. “When I agreed to aid you, remember that I told you that this girl must be mine and you promised that I should have my will.”
“That was when Black-Hawk believed that the Wild Rose loved you,” replied Black-Hawk. “She has asked for my protection and it is given. Let the son of Red-Bird seek another mate; the Wild Rose is not for him.”
A tempest of furious passions raged in the heart of William Jackwood. At any other time or place he would have shot the old chief down without any remorse, and even here, in the midst of his warriors, he was tempted to do it, even at the risk of his own life. With a mighty effort he restrained himself, and turned away with a malevolent glance at Sadie, which she returned by one of defiance.
Several of the principal braves were looking on, and there was some murmuring, for these men recognized the good old maxim—‘to the victor belong the spoils.’ While they stood thus, there was heard a triumphant shout upon the river, and several men started away to see what it meant. They were soon heard coming back, and directly after a compact body of men, those who followed Will Jackwood, poured into the camp, leading in their midst, as prisoners, Captain Melton, Cooney Joe and Tom Bantry. A look of ferocious joy beamed upon the face of Will Jackwood, for he saw a chance for revenge.
The prisoners marched firmly, and not a cheek blanched as they saw where they were led and realized the fearful danger in which they stood. Will Jackwood started forward and addressed one of his subordinates, who, for the time being, had been in command of the band.
“Did you take them, Justin? If you can say that you did so without aid from the Indians, then you may ask any thing you like at my hands.”
“Nary red,” replied the man. “We caught them crossing the river in a canoe, and pounced on ’em almost before they could lift a hand, but that Cooney Joe laid out Jack Ferguson, and Saul Sloan has got a bad wound in the shoulder, from Melton’s knife. Is that satisfactory?”
“Excellent! Black-Hawk, I claim these prisoners as my own, as my men took them without help.”
“They are yours,” replied Black-Hawk. “An Indian chief knows how to be just.”
“Now then, Captain Charles Melton, you are in my power; do you understand, in my power! You shall rue the day when you dared come between me and the woman I love.”
“What do you mean, renegade?” replied the young scout. “I never wronged you in my life.”
“Perhaps; we shall see how it turns out. Keep them safe, boys; set a double guard upon them, and for your lives, let none escape. Ah, my good, valiant, chivalric Joe, how you will repent having raised your hand against me.”
“I do repent, Will,” said Joe, quietly. “I repent most awfully. I ought to have lifted yer ha’r on the spot, by gracious. ’Twould have served you just right, and saved a good deal of trouble.”
“Take them away, boys, take them away. Ha; don’t let the girl speak to them or she will contrive some way to set them free. Look out for Minneoba above all others, for she is as cute as the devil. Miss Sadie, do I deceive myself when I think that you will not now disdain to hold some conversation with me?”
“What do you wish to say to me, sir?” replied Sadie, who saw the dreadful peril of her friends, and wished to save them if possible.
“Say to Black-Hawk that you wish to speak to me apart from the rest and he will give you permission. I see a way in which you can save these men.”
She spoke to the chief, who nodded kindly, and she followed Black Will a little distance from the camp.
“That is far enough,” she said, pausing under a great tree. “What have you to say to me?”
“Change your way of speaking; be more complaisant to me, my dear girl, for the more kindly you use me the better it will be for yonder men who are doomed beyond hope if I so much as lift a finger. First of all—do you love this Captain Melton?”
“He has never spoken to me,” replied Sadie. “How do I know that he cares for me?”
“That is not the question at issue. Do you love him? That is what I asked.”
“How can I answer that, when I do not know my own heart? He is a brave and good man, and I could love him dearly if he loved me as well. I will say no more upon that point.”
“At least you care enough for him to wish to save his life?”
“Yes—yes; I would do almost any thing for that,” she replied, eagerly.
“It has gone as far as that, has it? My dear girl, you are further gone than you imagined. Now, I do not wish to be incumbered by prisoners. If we can not come to terms, I shall find it necessary to put these fellows out of the way, and shall certainly do so. There are many ways in which to do this, and my friends the Indians will doubtless be happy to take the laboring oar out of my hands.”
“Do you mean that you would be base enough to give them up to the torture?” she cried.
“Undoubtedly, my Indian friends might find it in their hearts to burn them if they only had them. I was present at a spectacle of this kind, the other day, where they barbecued a traitorous Indian. It was not pretty, and I may say did not amuse me after the first gush, and I went so far as to kill the poor fellow with my own hand, to put him out of his pain. It would distress me very much to see any of your friends in a like delicate situation.”
“What do you ask of me, William Jackwood? Do you wish to drive me mad? You could not—could not be so base.”
“I would do any thing for revenge,” replied the man, hoarsely. “I tell you, upon my honor as a man, that if you do not promise to be my wife—I know that you will keep your word—these men shall all die as I have said. Make that promise, and upon the day when you become my wife, all shall be set free except one.”
“Which one do you mean?”
“Tom Bantry; he is a cursed traitor.”
“That man must be saved, at all hazards,” replied Sadie, firmly. “Of all your villainous band, William Jackwood, he alone showed a spark of pity when my unhappy father was cast into the furious flood, bound and helpless. What I would not do for love I will do for gratitude, and I give you my hand, if you will swear upon your honor that these men shall go free, and at once.”
“You are sensible,” he said, eagerly. “I had not hoped that you would yield so easily, and I will make it the study of my life to make you happy as—”
“Silence! Give me your promise and I will give you mine.”
“I swear by the only things I hold pure—the memory of my mother and my love for you—that these men shall all be spared.”
“And I promise to be your wife, if we both live. Oh, God, forgive me if I do wrong in this, but I can not see these brave men sacrificed, who have come into this deadly peril for my sake. William Jackwood, understand me fully, and do not say in the after times that I deceived you. I hate you—I shall always hate you—but I will be your wife.”
“All right,” said Jackwood, with a light laugh. “I will try to change your opinion of me when we are married. And now you are at liberty, and I will leave it to you to tell Black-Hawk that you have changed your mind, while I prepare to leave him. The chief has not used me well, and I do not fight the battles of those who do not treat me as a friend.”
She went away with drooping head, and he stood in the same spot, moodily tapping his boot-leg with a small switch he carried. He was not fully satisfied, although he had gained the stake for which he had been playing so long. She had told him that she hated him, and had as good as said she loved Charles Melton, and yet had promised to be his wife. As he stood there, a man panting for breath and bleeding from several wounds, rushed up to him, and in his disfigured countenance he saw something which reminded him of Dick Garrett, and stopped him.
“Dick, what is the matter?”
“Played out!” replied Dick, dropping exhausted on the sod. “Give me some rum, for I am half dead.”
Jackwood put his flask to the mouth of the exhausted man and he drank long and eagerly, and drew a deep breath of relief.
“Ah-h-h! That goes to the spot, Will. I’ve had a long run—chased by the devil’s kid, and it’s a mercy that I have got in alive. It all came of chasing that accursed girl, who got into the woods.”
“It was not your fault, Dick,” said Jackwood. “Minneoba came in and told us about it, and we sent out parties after her, and one of them picked her up.”
“Take care of her yourself, after this,” panted Dick. “I’ve seen the devil to-day, and fought him, and I don’t want any more.”
“Where are the rest of your men?”
“Gone under, I reckon. Jack Fish and Tracey got into the woods, and the rest are dead. I had to play ’possum, or I would have been cooked, too. Give me another drink, and I’ll tell you about it.”
Jackwood gave him the flask, and for a moment nothing was heard except the musical gurgle of the liquor. When he lowered it, a considerable vacuum existed in the vessel, and he told the story of the chase after Sadie with many expletives not necessary to set down here. When he had finished the tale he did the same with the liquor, and stood up.
“You are wounded, Dick!”
“Nothing of much account. I’ve been cut and scratched in diving through the brushes, for that hairy cuss chased me almost into camp. I thought he’d never give it up.”
“I don’t know who or what it can be,” said Jackwood, musingly, “and I don’t care much. Go and wash the blood from your face, and then get the men together, for we must leave this camp. It is all up with Black-Hawk, for Atkinson has come with an army, and he will clean out the Indians in the twinkling of an eye.”
Garrett moved away slowly, and Jackwood advanced to the side of Black-Hawk, who was talking with Sadie. She did not look at him as he came up, but Minneoba faced him boldly, with her pretty face showing the utmost anger and contempt.
“What has the son of Red-Bird said to frighten the Wild Rose?” she cried, angrily. “He is a coward and no brave.”
“You had better send your daughter away, Black-Hawk,” said Jackwood, quietly. “I have borne insults enough in this camp, and will not stay here.”
“The son of Red-Bird promised to stay and fight for his red brothers,” said Black-Hawk, reproachfully, “and when he sees the enemy in sight he runs away like a frightened hound. It is well; Black-Hawk would not have any except brave men follow him.”
“It is false, Indian,” cried Will Jackwood. “Here, in the midst of your wild band, I defy you to prove that while you were true to me, I failed to do my duty like a man. But when you dared to take away my prisoner, my wife that is to be, in that day I leave you, never to return.”
“Go,” replied Black-Hawk. “I have been deceived in the son of Red-Bird. His father died in the white man’s prison, and now he basely turns away when the battle is nigh.”
“Stay with me, Wild Rose,” cried Minneoba. “My father is a strong chief and will protect you from harm.”
“I can not—I dare not,” replied Sadie. “If I stay with you, my friends, who are his prisoners, must die.”
“My father will take them away from him,” said Minneoba, looking pleadingly at the old chief.
“Let him do so—let him make himself a dog, if he dares,” replied Jackwood. “I will tell his baseness throughout the tribes, and not a man of them all dare look me in the face until I am righted.”
The chief hung his head, for he had pledged his sacred word that Jackwood should keep his prisoners. The scoundrel knew his character too well to doubt for a moment that the Indian would keep his word, and let them go away with the prisoners. Minneoba pleaded in vain, and with loud lamenting, followed the compact force of Jackwood to the edge of the forest, and saw them go away with the prisoners, closely guarded, and Sadie walking by the side of William Jackwood, with a hard, bitter look upon her beautiful face. Garrett, who recovered quickly from every evil, turned about and blew a kiss at Minneoba, who at once fitted an arrow to the string, and would have sent it after him, but that he took shelter among the men, laughing.
“‘The world is all before us where to choose,’ boys,” said Jackwood, “but one thing is certain, if this thing goes against the Indians, and of course it will, this territory won’t be very healthy for us. What do you say?”
“We’ll find a place to live, Cap,” replied Garrett. “The world owes us a living, and we’ll have it too, or else make trouble.”
“Don’t you think we had better find a hiding-place and see what is going to happen? There will be pretty pickings for us if the day should, by any chance, favor the Indians, even for a time.”
“I know the place you mean, Cap,” said Jack Fish, who had come in before they marched. “The neatest hiding-place in the West.”
“How far away?”
“’Bout six mile, I reckon.”
“Lead the way, then.”
Fish took the advance, and Jackwood assisted the weary steps of Sadie over the rugged road before them. It led through tangled thickets, under trees which had been the growth of centuries, and ended in a circular forest opening, so difficult to reach, that Black Will was obliged to carry Sadie in places, so worn out had she become.
The grass was green in the little glade, and the birds were singing, as one by one the troop came out from beneath the canopy of leaves, and gained a footing on the level turf.
“Jack Fish,” said the renegade, “you have deserved well of your country. I could live here forever. Here we rest, until the thing is decided one way or another.”
“How will we live?” queried Garrett.
“The woods are full of game, and we will kill it so far from the camp, that no one will suspect us of being here. Captain Melton, will you give me your word of honor not to try to escape, provided I free your arms?”
Melton was about to refuse, but catching Sadie’s eye, he changed his mind, and made the required promise. It was not extended to Tom Bantry, and Cooney Joe, who were tightly bound, and placed under guard. Sadie was coming forward with the intention of speaking to Melton, when the bushes parted near her, and the face of the demon of the woods appeared, peeping out among the leaves.
Sadie was not easily frightened, but it required the effort of all her resolution to keep her from uttering a cry of alarm. The young captain saw that she was deeply moved and ascribed it to her grief at the situation in which she found herself placed. But she recovered herself by a great effort of the will and came forward, giving her hand frankly to the man she loved and who loved her as dearly.
“I am deeply grieved that you have come into this danger for my sake, Charles,” she said, softly. “But have no fear, for I will save you at any hazard. Indeed, it is done already, for I have given my word and you are safe.”
“Safe! What do you mean, Sadie; what promise have you given?”
“Do not be angry with me, Charles,” she said, sadly. “I am sorry that it is forced upon me but—I have promised to be the wife of William Jackwood.”
“Black Will! Gracious heaven, Sadie, it cannot be. What madness is this?”
“I was forced to do it. They threatened you and your brave companions with a horrible death. I had no one near to advise me and I could not—I could not see you die.”
“You should have spoken to me first,” he cried, wildly. “You knew that I loved you. I have never dared to tell you until now, and ought to have spoken. What is death to dishonor? What a life you have doomed yourself to bear, that I may live. I would sooner die a thousand deaths than bear this bitter burden.”
“Charles!” she cried. “You make my load too heavy for me to bear. How could I see those who had incurred this peril for me, given up to satisfy the bloody passions of these desperate men. My father is dead—I am alone in the world and my life would have been a weary one at best, if I had refused to yield. He told me that if I was obstinate, I should stand by and see you suffer. I could not have borne that, at any rate.”
“You should have remained in the camp of Black-Hawk, who is a brave man, although an Indian. My dear girl, I can not blame you for what you have done. It was in all kindness of heart, but it was wrong for you to yield. The lives of men who are ready at any time to die for the right should be as a feather’s weight compared to your sacrifice. As I say, so would Joe Bent and Tom Bantry, who are more hated by these men than I am.”
“Can you not escape?” she whispered. “But no—I forgot. My word is pledged to this bad man and that I hold sacred. But I shall not deem it a crime to take his life, and although he may claim my hand he shall never have a wife’s duty from me—for I hate him—oh, how I hate him!”
The white teeth clicked together fiercely as she spoke, and Black Will, who was listening, laughed a low, bitter laugh, full of malice.
“Sorry to interfere in a social meeting of this kind,” he said, advancing, “but your language is disgusting to your future husband, my dear Sadie. Captain Melton, if I hear any more language of this kind from you, I shall have you bound and gagged, for I will not endure it.”
“If you do that it absolves me from my promise, for you gave me your word to treat them well,” said Sadie.
“I will not give you even that loop-hole from which to escape,” said Black Will, after a pause. “I leave the camp to-day in search of a man who is at one of the Indian stations, a Lutheran missionary. Let me say to you that he is a man who would not perform the ceremony if you offer a word of objection, and that you have only to say ‘no,’ and that ceremony will cease and one of another kind commence, for as there is a sky above us I will take your friends out and hang them before your eyes. Git my horse, Jack Fish.”
The man obeyed, and after giving some orders to Dick Garrett in a low tone, the renegade mounted and rode away through the wood.
Two days passed, and they heard nothing of him. Upon the afternoon of the third he came into camp accompanied by a pale, intellectual-looking man in the dress of a clergyman, who looked mildly about on the wild group in the camp, evidently surprised to find himself in such a place. He was at once conducted to one of the brush cabins which had been built up by the men, while Black Will dismounted and ordered that Melton and the other prisoners should be removed into the woods a short distance from the camp, for he knew the missionary too well to believe that he would perform the ceremony if he had any doubt of the willingness of the lady to do her part, and Black Will feared the prisoners might let him know the true state of the case.
Five men accompanied the prisoners into the woods, with orders to shoot them down at the first attempt to escape. When this was done Black Will approached the brush cabin in which Sadie spent the time, and called her out.
“I have returned,” he said, cheerfully. “You must excuse me for staying away from you so long, but I found it difficult to find the missionary.”
“I only wish you had never found him or had received your just deserts, sir,” was the somewhat unpromising reply.
“My deserts; I deserve better treatment at your hands, I think.”
“Twelve feet of rope and a tree would suit you better,” she replied. “Do not deceive yourself by the belief that I shall ever change in my regard for you. The most slimy reptile which crawls through the swamp would be to me a more pleasant companion. I give my hand to you to save my friends, but never my heart with it.”
He stood moodily before her, tapping his boot with the riding-whip he carried.
“I have half a mind to refuse your hand upon these terms,” he said, gloomily, without raising his eyes from the earth upon which they were bent. “Your language is horrible to one to whom you are about to join yourself for life, and the day will surely come when you will repent it bitterly. There, I will say no more now; but, in half an hour I shall come for you and we will be married.”
“You need not fear but I will keep my word,” she said. “Will you keep yours as well?”
“I never broke it yet to friend or foe,” was his answer, “and I do not mean to commence now. When you have given me your hand in marriage, these men shall have two days’ grace, but if I catch them after that, woe be to them, that is all.”
He turned upon his heel and left her to her own reflections, which were not of the most pleasant type. At times she doubted her firmness in the hour of trial, and whether she would not give way in the presence of the missionary, but the thought of his fearful threat against her lover and friends nerved her, and she determined to bear up as bravely as she could, and make the sacrifice for their safety. She would have liked to see Melton once before the ceremony, but feared that she was not strong enough to endure the meeting. While she sat there with her face buried in her hands, Black Will came for her.
“There is one favor I would ask you,” she said, “and it is one you can easily grant. You know I love Charles Melton, but all thoughts of him must pass in the moment when I put my hand in yours. Under the circumstances he must not see me again, and I could not bear to see him.”
“Agreed; you shall not see him, and if he dares to attempt an interview when you are once my wife, it will be the worse for him. I have removed him already, and they wait in the woods until the ceremony is over, when they shall be allowed to go where they will.”
“That will do, sir. Now I am ready, if you will not relent.”
He shook his head savagely, and taking her hand led her out into the open space among the trees. The band were standing carelessly about, looking on as the two took their station before the missionary, who advanced book in hand and stood before them.
He recited that portion of the ritual which was necessary before he asked the question, “and if any know just cause or reason why these should not be joined together in the bands of holy wedlock, let them now speak or forever after hold their peace,” when the crowd scattered before the rush of a strong man, and the gigantic figure of the Forest Fiend sprung into the circle and hurled Black Will ten paces backward by a single thrust of his powerful arm, while he cried, fiercely:
“I forbid the banns!”
“Down with him,” roared Black Will, drawing his knife. “At him, boys.”
“Back!” cried the strange being, “back, for your lives. It is not right that innocence and youth should be forced to wed with such a thing as this, and I forbid it. Back, I say.”
They recoiled before the stern figure, especially those among them who had felt the nervous force of his strong arm, while Black Will looked at the clergyman.
“Do not mind the ravings of a madman, sir,” he said; “this man is insane and knows not what he does.”
“It is false, reverend sir,” replied the Forest Fiend. “I am as sane a man as any here, and know whereof I speak. Fall back, men; don’t press upon me. Ha, they will have it, then. Melton’s Scout to the rescue!”