The Wild Huntress Part 43

I knew, if no obstacle should be encountered--such as that which had just delayed us--that we could easily come up with the Mormon emigrants.

We had no longer a similar obstacle to dread. The whole country beyond the mountains was Utah territory; and we could count upon these Indians as friends. From that quarter we had nothing to apprehend; and the caravan might easily be overtaken. But what then? Even though in company with it, for my purpose I should be as powerless as ever. By what right should I interfere with either the squatter or his child? No doubt it was their determination to proceed with the Mormons, and to the Mormon city--at least the father's determination. This was no longer a matter of doubt; and what could I urge to prevent his carrying it out?

I had no argument--not the colour of a claim--for interference in any way! Nay, it was more than probable that to the migrating Mormons I should be a most unwelcome apparition--to Stebbins I certainly should, and perhaps to Holt himself. I might expect no very courteous treatment at their hands. With Stebbins for their leader--and that fact was now ascertained--I might find myself in danger from his _Danites_--of whom no doubt there would be a party "policing" the train.

Such considerations were not to be disregarded. I knew the hostility which, even under ordinary circ.u.mstances, these fanatics are accustomed to feel towards outsiders to their faith; but I had also heard of their _display_ of it, when in possession of the power. The "Sectary" who sets foot in the city of Latter-day Saints, or travels with a Mormon train, will be prudent to keep his dissent to himself. Woe to him if he proclaim it too boastingly!

Not only with difficulties then, but with dangers was my purpose beset; though the difficulties caused me far more concern than the actual dangers. Had Holt been upon my side--had I been certain of his consent--I should have cared little for the dangers of an _abduction_: for this was the plan to which my thoughts now pointed. Even had I been sure that Lilian herself would agree to such a thing, I should have deemed all danger light, and still have entertained a hope of its accomplishment. The contingencies appeared fearfully unfavourable: the father _would not_ consent--the daughter _might not_? It was this last doubt that gave the darkest hue to my reflections. I continued them-- turning the subject over and over--viewing it from every point. Surely Holt would not contribute to the ruin of his daughter--for in no other light did I regard her introduction to the society of the Mormon city?

There was manhood in the man--somewhere down near the bottom of his heart--perhaps some remnants of rough virtue. This I had myself proved; and, if filial testimony were to be trusted, he was not so abandoned a character as he appeared. Was it possible he could be aware of the real intentions of the churl who was leading him and his to ruin? After all, he _might_ not. It is true he was aware that Stebbins was a Mormon; but as Marian had suggested--in her efforts to justify him, poor girl--he might be ignorant of the true character of these sanctified _forbans_.

The story that Marian had died on her way out, showed that Holt was being grossly deceived in relation to that matter. It also gave colour to the idea, that he might be equally the victim of deception about the other. It was in the hope of being able to hold him guiltless I had so closely questioned Marian: for instinct had already whispered me that in his hands, more than in aught else, rested my hope or my ruin. For that reason had I been so eager to ascertain his inclinings.

That he was under some obligation to the pseudo-apostle was perfectly clear. More than a mere obligation; something that produced a condition of awe: as I had myself been a witness. Some dark secret, no doubt, was shared between them. But were it ever so dark even were it black murder--it might not be, on the part of Holt, a voluntary endurance: and Marian had hinted at something of this sort. Here--out in the midst of the wild desert--far from justice and from judges--punishment for an old offence might be less dreaded; and a man of the bold stamp of this Tennesseean squatter might hopefully dream of escaping from the ties of terror by which his spirit had so long been enthralled? Conjectures of this nature were chasing one another through my brain; and not without the effect of once more giving a brighter tinge to the colour of my mental horizon. I naturally turned my eyes upon Marian. In her I beheld an ally of no ordinary kind--one whose motive for aiding me to rescue her sister, could be scarce less powerful than my own.

Poor girl! she was still in the enjoyment of those moments of bliss!

She knew not the misery that was yet in store for her. Wingrove had my directions to be silent upon that theme--the more easily obeyed in the fulness of his own happiness. It was no pleasant task to dash from their lips, the cup of sweet joy; but the time was pressing, and as the sacrifice must come, it might as well come at once. I saw that the Utahs had given up the pursuit. Most of them had returned to the scene of their short conflict; while others, singly or in squads, were moving towards the b.u.t.te. The women, too, were approaching--some with the wounded--some carrying the bodies of the slain warriors--chaunting the dismal death-song as they marched solemnly along. Casting a glance at the wailing mult.i.tude, I leaped down from the rock, and rapidly descended to the plain.

CHAPTER EIGHTY SIX.

A TRUE TIGRESS.

I walked out towards the stream. The lovers met me halfway. As I looked in their eyes, illumined and sparkling with the pure light of love, I hesitated in my intent. "After all," thought I, "there will not be time to tell her the whole story. The Indians will soon be on the ground. Our presence will be required in the council; and perhaps it will be better to postpone the revelation till that is over? Let her enjoy her new-found happiness for an hour longer."

I was thus hesitating--at the same time looking the beautiful huntress in the face--when, all of a sudden, I saw her start, and fling from her the hand she had been hitherto holding in her fond clasp! The look of her lover--mine as well--was that of bewildered astonishment. Not so hers. Her cheek turned pale--then red--then paled again; while a glance of proud anger shot forth from her eyes! The glance was directed outwards to the plain, back upon Wingrove, and then once more quick and piercing towards the plain. Equally puzzled by her look and behaviour, I faced round in the direction indicated by her glance. I had the explanation at once.

The chief, Wa-ka-ra, had arrived at the b.u.t.te; and sat halted upon his war-steed by the side of the waggon. There were three or four other Indians around him, mounted and afoot; but one on horseback was entirely unlike the rest. This one was a woman. She was not bound, yet it was easy to see she was a captive. That could be told by the way she was encircled by the Indians, as well as by their treatment of her. She was on horseback, as already stated, and near to the Utah chief--in front of him. Neither Wingrove nor I had any difficulty in identifying the captive. It was Su-wa-nee, the Chicasaw. The eye of jealousy had found her equally easy of identification: since it was by it she was first recognised. It was upon her that Marian was directing those lightning glances. It was her presence that had caused that convulsive start, and those fearful emotions, that now proclaimed themselves in the countenance of the huntress-maiden.

The storm soon burst. "Perjured hypocrite! this is the love you have sworn--with the oath still burning upon your lips? Once more betrayed!

O man! Once more betrayed! O G.o.d! would that I had left you to your fate!"

"I declar', Marian--"

"Declare nothing more to me! Enough--yonder is your attraction--yonder!

Oh! to think of this outrage! Here--even here to the wild desert has he brought her; she who has been the cause of all, my unhappy--Ha! she is coming up to you! Now, sir, meet her face to face--help her from her horse--wait upon her! Go! villain, go!"

"I swar' Marian, by the livin'--"

His speech was interrupted. At that moment Su-wa-nee, who had shot her horse clear from the _entourage_, of her guards, came galloping upon the ground. I was myself so surprised at this proceeding, that I could not stir from the spot; and not until the Chicasaw had pa.s.sed directly in front of us and halted there, could I believe that I was otherwise than dreaming. Wingrove appeared equally the victim of a bewildered surprise. As Su-wa-nee drew up, she gave utterance to a shrill scream; and flinging herself from her horse, rushed onward in the direction of Marian. The latter had turned away at the conclusion of her frantic speech; and was now close to the bank of the stream, with her back towards us. There was no mistaking the intention of the Chicasaw. The hideous expression of her face--the lurid fire burning in her oblique eyes--the white teeth shining and wolf-like--all betrayed her horrid design; which was further made manifest by a long knife seen glittering in her grasp! With all my voice I raised a warning shout! Wingrove did the same--so, too, the Utahs, who were following their captive. The shout was heard, and heeded. Fortunately it was so: else in another instant warning would have been too late, and the vengeful Chicasaw would have launched herself upon her unconscious victim. The huntress faced round on hearing the cry. She saw the approaching danger; and, with the subtle quickness of that Indian nature common to both, she placed herself in an att.i.tude of defence. She had no weapon. Her late love scene needed none. Her rifle had been left by the b.u.t.te, and she was without arm of any kind; but, quick as thought, she wound the Mexican _serape_ about her wrist, and held it to shield her body from the threatened thrust. The Chicasaw paused, as if to make more certain of her aim; and for a moment the two stood face to face--glaring at each other with that look of concentrated hate which jealousy alone can give.

It was the enraged tigress about to spring upon the beautiful panther that has crossed her path.

All this action was well-nigh instantaneous--so quick in its occurrence, that neither I nor Wingrove could get up in time to hinder the a.s.sailant. We both hastened forward as fast as it was in our power; but we should have been too late, had the thrust been better aimed, or less skilfully avoided. It was given. With a wild scream the Chicasaw bounded forward and dealt the stroke; but, by a dexterous sleight, the huntress received it on the _serape_, and the blade glanced harmlessly aside. We hurried onward to get between them; but at that moment a third combatant became mingled in the fray, and the safety of Marian was secured.

It was not the hand of man that had rescued her; but an ally whom, perhaps, she deemed more faithful. It was the dog Wolf! The impetus which the Indian had given to the thrust, and its consequent failure, had carried her past her intended victim. She was turning with the design of renewing the attack, when the dog rushed upon the ground.

With a savage growl the animal sprang forward; and, vaulting high into the air, launched himself on the breast of the Chicasaw--at the same instant seizing her by the throat! In this position he clung--holding on by his terrible teeth, and aided by his paws, with which he kept constantly clawing the bosom of the Indian! It was a painful spectacle; and now that Marian was safe, Wingrove and I ran on with the intention of releasing the woman from the grasp of the dog. Before we could get near, both victim and avenger disappeared from our sight! The Indian in her wild terror had been retreating backward. In this way she had reached the bank; and, having lost her footing, had fallen back downward upon the water! As we arrived upon the edge, neither woman nor dog was visible. Both had sunk to the bottom! Almost on the instant they re-appeared on the surface, the dog uppermost; and we saw that his teeth were still fastened upon the throat of his human victim! Half-a-dozen men leaped into the water; and, after a struggle, the savage animal was dragged from his hold. It was too late. The sharp incisors had done their dread work; and, as the body of the wretched woman was raised over the bank, those who lifted it perceived that the last breath had gone out of it. The limbs were supple, and the pulse no longer beat.

Su-wa-nee had ceased to live!

CHAPTER EIGHTY SEVEN.

SUSPICIOUS APPEARANCES.

The Indians came crowding around the corpse--both warriors and women.

Their exclamations betokened no sympathy. Even the squaws looked on with unpitying aspect--though the victim was of their own race and s.e.x.

They knew she had been allied with their enemies; and had been witnesses of her savage a.s.sault upon _Maranee_, though ignorant of its motive.

Some of them who had lost kindred in the strife, already stirred by grief and fury, were proceeding to insult the lifeless and mutilated remains--to mutilate them still more! I turned away from the loathsome scene. Neither the dead nor the living, that composed this ghastly tableau, had further interest for me.

My glance, wandering in search of other forms, first fell upon that of Wingrove. He was standing near, in an att.i.tude that betokened extreme prostration of spirit. His head hung forward over his breast; but his eyes were not directed to the ground: they were turned upward, gazing after a form that was pa.s.sing away. It was that of the huntress. The girl had regained her horse; and was riding off, followed by the dog.

She went slowly--as if irresolute both as to the act and the direction.

In both, the horse appeared to have his will: the reins rested loosely upon his withers; while his rider seemed wrapped in a silent abstraction. I was hastening towards my Arab, with the design of joining her, when I saw that I was antic.i.p.ated. Another had conceived a similar intention. It was Wa-ka-ra.

The young chief, still on horseback, was seen spurring out from the midst of his men, and guiding his war-steed in the direction taken by the huntress. Before I could lay hands upon my bridle, he had galloped up to Marian, and falling into a gentler pace, rode on by her side. I did not attempt to follow them. Somewhat chagrined at having my designs interrupted, I gave up the intention of mounting my horse, and turned back towards Wingrove. As soon as I was near enough to read the expression upon his features, I saw that my chagrin was more than shared by him. An emotion of most rancorous bitterness was burning in the breast of the young backwoodsman. His glance was fixed upon the two forms--slowly receding across the plain. He was regarding every movement of both with that keen concentrated gaze, which jealousy alone can give.

"Nonsense, Wingrove!" said I, reading the thoughts of his heart. "Don't let that trouble you: there's nothing between them, I can a.s.sure you."

Certainly the spectacle was enough to excite the suspicions of a less jealous lover--if not to justify them. Both the equestrians had halted at a distant part of the plain. They were not so distant, but that their att.i.tudes could be observed. They still remained on horseback; but the horses were side by side, and so near each other, that the bodies of their riders appeared almost touching. The head of the chief was bent forward and downward; while his hand appeared extended outward, as if holding that of the huntress! It was a fearful tableau for a lover to contemplate--even at a distance; and the white lips, clenched teeth, and quick irregular beating of Wingrove's heart--perfectly audible to me as I stood beside him--told with what terrible emotions the sight was inspiring him. I was myself puzzled at the att.i.tude of the Utah chief--as well as the silent complaisance with which his attentions appeared to be received. It certainly had the seeming of gallantry--though I was loth to believe in its reality. In truth I could not give credence to such a thought. It was not human nature--not even woman's--to play false in such _sans facon_. The appearance must certainly be a deception?

I was endeavouring to conjecture an explanation, when a moving object attracted my attention. It was a horseman who appeared upon the plain, beyond where the huntress and the chief had halted. To our eyes, he was nearly in a line with them--approaching down the valley from the upper canon--out of which he had evidently issued. He was still at a considerable distance from the other two; but it could be seen that he was coming on at full gallop and straight towards them. In a few moments, he would be up to where they stood. I watched this horseman with interest. I was in hopes he would keep on his course, and interrupt the scene that was annoying myself, and torturing my companion. I was not disappointed in the hope. The hurrying horseman rode straight on; and, having arrived within a few paces of the ground occupied by the others, drew his horse to a halt. At the same instant, the Utah chief was seen to separate from his companion; and riding up to the stranger, appeared to enter into conversation with him.

After some minutes had elapsed, the chief faced round to the huntress; and, apparently giving utterance to some parting speech, headed his horse toward the b.u.t.te, and along with the stranger, came galloping downward. The huntress kept her place; but I saw her dismount, and stoop down towards the dog, as if caressing him. I resolved to seize the opportunity of speaking with her alone; and, bidding Wingrove wait for my return, I once more hastened to lay hold of my horse. Perhaps I should encounter the chief on the way? Perhaps he might not exactly like the proceeding? But Marian must be communicated with upon something besides matters of love; and my honest intention rendered me less timid about any idle construction the savage might please to put upon my conduct. Thus fortified, I leaped to the back of my steed, and hurried off upon my errand.

CHAPTER EIGHTY EIGHT.

A FRESH ECLAIRCISs.e.m.e.nT.

As we rode in counter-directions, I met the chief almost on the instant.

I was slightly surprised that he pa.s.sed, without taking notice of me!

He could not fail to guess whither I was going: as I was heading straight for the huntress; and here was no other object to have drawn me in that direction. He did not even appear to see me! As he pa.s.sed at a rapid pace, his eyes were bent forward upon the b.u.t.te, or occasionally turned towards the horseman who galloped by his side. The strange horseman was an Indian. From the absence of the war-costume, I could tell he had not been engaged in the late conflict, but had just arrived from some distant journey--no doubt, a messenger who brought news. His jaded horse and dusky garb justified this conjecture. Equally desirous of shunning an encounter, I pa.s.sed the two riders in silence, and kept on my course. As I drew near to the huntress-maiden, I was speculating on the reception I might expect, and the explanation I ought to give.

How would she receive me? Not with much grace, I feared; at all events, not till she should hear what I had to say. The ambiguous and ill-timed appearance of the Chicasaw, combined with the sinister and dramatic incident which followed, must have produced on her mind eccentric and erroneous impressions. The effect would naturally be to falsify, not only the protestations of her lover, but my own testimony borne in his behalf, and indeed all else she had been told. It was not difficult to predict an ungracious reception. As I approached, she gave over caressing the dog; and once more leaped to the back of her horse. I was in fear that she would ride off, and shun me. I knew I could easily overtake her; but a chase of this nature would scarcely have been to my liking.

"Marian Holt!" I said, in a tone of gentle remonstrance, "your suspicions are unjust; I have come to offer you an explanation--"

"I need none," interrupted she in a quiet voice, but without raising her eyes. A gentle wave of her hand accompanied the words. I fancied both the tone and the gesture were repellant; but soon perceived that I was mistaken. "I need none," she repeated, "all has been explained."

"Explained! How?" I inquired, taken by surprise at the unexpected declaration. "Wa-ka-ra has told me all."

"What!--of Su-wa-nee?" A gesture of a.s.sent was the answer. "I am glad of this. But Wa-ka-ra! how knew he the circ.u.mstance?"

"Partly from the Mexican to whom your people have communicated them-- partly from the captive Arapahoes. Enough--I am satisfied."

"And you forgive Wingrove?"

"Forgiveness now lies upon his side. I have not only wronged him by my suspicions, but I have reviled him. I deserve his contempt, _I_ can scarcely hope to be forgiven."

Light had broken upon me--bright light it was for Wingrove! The suspicious _duetto_ with the Utah chief was explained. Its innocence was made further manifest, by what came under my eyes at the moment. On the arm that was raised in gesture, I observed a strip of cotton wound round it above the wrist. A spot of blood appeared through the rag!

"Ha! you are wounded?" said I, noticing the bandage. "It is nothing-- merely a scratch made by the point of the knife. Wa-ka-ra has bound it up. It still bleeds a little, but it is nothing." It was the _role_ of the surgeon, then, the chief had been playing when seen in that ambiguous att.i.tude! More light for Wingrove!