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Updated: June 16, 2025
In a twinkling Sconda grasped the situation, and with a terrible roar of rage be brought his rifle to his shoulder and would have shot Curly where he stood, had not Glen leaped to her feet and laid her hand firmly upon the smooth barrel. "Don't shoot!" Curly yelled, wild with terror, ere Glen could say a word. "Fer God's sake, let me go!"
He had gone with Reynolds, and what would bring him back so soon and in such a manner unless something was seriously wrong? All this flashed through her mind as she hurried down the steps just as Sconda drew rein in front of the house. "What is the matter, Sconda?" she demanded. "Tell me, quick." "White stranger in trouble," was the brief reply. "Where?" Glen asked, while her face turned pale.
This Weston noted, and he well understood the reason. How much will she safely stand? he asked himself. He was about to repeat his suggestion, when Sconda arrived, and with him came Curly, guarded by two stalwart Indians. Glen breathed a sigh of relief at this timely interruption, and leaving the table, she fled at once to the seclusion of her own room. "What are you doing here?"
All had heard of the wonderful shot across Deep Gulch, and they were naturally curious to see the monster which had dared to face the Big Chief's daughter. There was the certainty, too, of fresh meat, which added much to the interest. Sconda, however was not with the returned men, and Glen was greatly disappointed.
"Yes, and a grizzly at that; a monster. Oh, it was terrible!" and Glen shivered as the recollection of the brute's fierce charge swept upon her. "Bear dead, eh?" Sconda queried. "Yes, dead, and lying in the ravine, half covered with earth and rocks. Go down Crooked Trail to the bottom, then up the gulch, and you will find it." "Who shoot grizzly?" the Indian asked. "A white man.
"What's wrong, dear?" her father anxiously enquired. "Didn't you sleep well?" "I didn't sleep at all, daddy. Perhaps it was yesterday's excitement which kept me awake." "Then, you must not go with us to-day, Glen. You stay here, and Sconda can remain with you. That will delight the old fellow, for he has been trying to invent some excuse for not going.
Her head was aching, and she was glad to get away, anywhere in order that she might be alone, and from her father's stern, accusing eyes. She had almost reached the door, when Sconda stood suddenly before her. She paused, while the Indian entered and walked at once toward his master. "Well, Sconda, what is it?" the latter demanded, annoyed at the native's intrusion at this critical moment.
She paused in her work and smiled as the two approached. Glen spoke to her in Indian, and asked her how she was getting along. Seeing Sconda across the street talking with an Indian, Reynolds went at once to him to discuss the proposed trip into the hills. This suited Glen, as she wanted to be alone for a time with Klota. "Is Sconda going with us on our trip?" she asked. "Ah, ah.
But Sconda might as well stay with you to-day, for I do not wish to leave you alone, and I am not anxious to have the old rascal with me with his head filled with such nonsense." Glen made no further reply to her father.
"Sconda no savvey. More bad white man. Ugh!" "Well, then, let us get away from this place as soon as possible." "What about Dan?" Reynolds asked. "We can't leave him here." "That's true," and Weston turned toward the wounded man. "He deserves to stay, though, for his base treachery. But we cannot do that, so must tote him back to the cabin. It will be a hard task, and the villain isn't worth it.
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