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Come, come!" Out we rushed through the thronging Mandanes, now riotous with the lust of blood. A ring of young bucks had been formed round the Sioux to keep the crowd off. Naked, with arms pinioned, the victim stood motionless and without fear. "Good white father, he no understand," said the Mandanes, jostling the weeping priest back from the circle of the young men.
Penned in some miserable lodge a thousand miles from human companionship, only the wild orgies of the savages varied the monotony of dull days and long nights. The winter I spent with the Mandanes was my first in the north. I had not yet learned to take events as the rock takes wave-blows, and was still at that mawkish age when a man is easily filled with profound pity for himself.
The leaders had their buckskin leggings strung from hip to ankle with small bells, and carried firearms, as well as arrows and stone lances; but the majority had only Indian weapons. In that respect though we were not one third their number we had the advantage. All the Mandanes carried firearms; but I do not believe there was enough ammunition to average five rounds a man.
Reflecting on my experiences with the Mandanes and the Sioux, I was disposed to upbraid fate as a senseless thing with no thread of purpose through life's hopeless jumble. Now, something in the calm of the plains, or the certainty of our unerring star-guides, quieted my unrest. Besides, was I not returning to one who was peerless? That hope speedily eclipsed all interests.
If the worst happened and I were captured, had I the courage to endure Indian tortures? A man endures what he must endure, whether he will, or not; and I certainly had not courage to leave the country without one blow for Miriam's freedom. With these thoughts, I gathered my belongings in preparation for secret departure from the Mandanes that night.
Before the full enormity of the treachery messengers murdered and mutilated, ransom stolen and captives kept had dawned on me, Father Holland had broken open the door. He was rushing through the night screaming for the Mandanes to catch the miscreant Sioux. When I turned back, not daring to look at that awful object, Hamilton had fallen to the hut floor in a dead faint.
I held my arm closer to my side, and felt the hard steel's pressure with a pleasure not to be marred by that tantalizing horde. There seemed to be a gathering hubbub outside. Indians, squaws and children were rushing in the direction of the trail to the Mandanes. The children in my tent forgot me and dashed out with the rest. I could not doubt the cause of the clamor.
He told me of a wooded valley, where he could rest with his horses concealed, and after seeing him off, I rode straight for the band of assembled Mandanes and surprised them beyond all measure by taking a place in the forefront of Black Cat's special guard. The Sioux warriors swept towards us in a tornado.
He had evidently bitten through his gag, raised his arms to his mouth, eaten away the hare thongs, and so, without the help of the Sioux raiders, freed his hands, untied himself and escaped. Dumfounded and baffled, I returned to the encampment and took counsel with Father Holland. We arranged to set out for the Mandanes on the Missouri. Diable's tribe had certainly gone south to Sioux territory.
Band after band burst from the leafy covert of forest and marsh willows, and dashed in full pursuit after the leading Indian. Some of the braves still wore the buckskin toggery of their visit to the Mandanes; but the swiftest runners had cast off all clothing and tore forward unimpeded.
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