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No shots had come from the patrol along the Franco-Swiss frontier; there was no sound save the ecstatic tumult of the nightingale drunk with moonlight, and, at intervals, the faint sound of a cowbell from those dark and distant pastures. To this silent, listening man it seemed certain that his two guests had now safely crossed the boundary at the spot he had marked for McKay on the detail map.
With such sentiments, then, it is not remarkable that Duncan McKay senior turned over to sleep as he best could without looking to a higher source than earth afforded for help in his extremity.
Half an hour later, when McKay stumbled out into the forest trail again, his eyes were blinded by tears and his heart choked by a new hope as big as the world itself. Yellow Bird was right, and God must have been with her that night when her soul went to commune with Nada's. For Yellow Bird had proved herself again. And now he believed her. He believed in the world again.
McKay then detailed the incidents of the disastrous engagement with the rebels at Duck Lake, and gave strong testimony to criminate Riel, which the counsel for the defence utterly failed to shake.
With that McKay ran to his pony, and leaping into the saddle tore through the brush at a perilous pace. Tad observed what the others failed to see. He noted that the Ranger had returned in the direction from which he had come, rather than riding off toward the direction from which the shot had sounded. This struck Tad as a peculiar thing for a Texas Ranger to do. "That's queer," muttered Butler.
The three rescue parties reached the squirming heap at almost the same moment. But Yuara was the one whose arrival counted most. In one last convulsive struggle McKay heaved himself up until he was once more on his knees. His head came out of the welter, his mouth wide and gulping for breath.
Tucu strode out four paces beyond his own men and stopped. Then both parties waited while the hunters reported what they knew to the hatchet-face. "What did you tell them, Lourenço?" asked McKay. "That we came on a friendly visit to the chief, for whom we had important words." "Nothing of the Raposa?" "No.
While he waited the dawn broke, and he could watch for himself the progress the assailants made. They were now climbing along the slopes of the ravine on both sides of the harbour, occupying house after house, and maintaining a hot fire on the retreating foe. It was exciting, maddening; in his eagerness McKay was tempted to emerge from his shelter and wave encouragement to his comrades.
The man rose and ran for his life, pursued by the maledictions of the Royal Picts. "Stop him! Stop him!" they cried, and the fugitive was met and turned at every point. But he doubled like a hare, and had nearly made his escape when he fell almost into the arms of Sergeant Hyde. "Stick to him!" cried McKay. "We will hand him over to the provost-marshal, who will give him a short shrift."
The girl was bending over him, and Cassidy saw only her face, and the brown sheen of her hair. "He'll live?" Jolly Roger said tremulously. The older man remained mute. It was Cassidy, turning his head a little, who answered weakly. "Don't worry, McKay. I'll live." Jolly Roger bent over the cot, between Cassidy and the girl. Gently he took one of the wounded man's hands in both his own.
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