Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 16, 2025
"And so you came to tell me that daddy and Mr. Reynolds are safe?" "Sconda ran away. Big White Chief wanted Sconda to help carry Dan into camp. But Sconda run away fast." "Why?" "Sconda think maybe Curly here. Sconda was right, eh?" "Oh, I understand," Glen replied. Her eyes were shining with gratitude as she turned them upon the face of her valiant protector. "You thought I might be in danger.
"And you want Sconda to fetch bear to camp, eh?" "I do. Take as many men as you need and go in the morning. Tell the women to be ready to prepare the meat. And, Sconda, I want you to look after the dressing of the skin. Get Klota to do it. Tell her it is for me, and she will understand. That is all, I guess." Glen dismounted, and handed the reins to the Indian. "Midnight is hungry, Sconda.
Sconda needed no second bidding, for he was anxious to be away. His fears had vanished at the presence of the skulking enemy, and no matter how he might tremble at the thought of unseen ghostly foes, he was never known to flinch before the face of a living earthly being.
If you don't of your own accord, we shall be forced to do something to make you." He then turned to Sconda and gave a brief order in the Indian tongue. The next instant Curly was hurried out of the house, and down the trail leading to the village. Weston sat for a while in his room after the others had gone.
Very reluctantly Sconda obeyed, and in a few seconds he was holding in his hand Curly's revolver and a big, sharp, dangerous knife. "There, I feel safer now," and Glen breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Take him away, Sconda," she ordered. "I want to get him out of my sight."
The sound of voices in the adjoining room informed her that her father and Reynolds had returned. She also heard the rattle of dishes and knew that Sconda was preparing supper. Hastily arranging her hair, and with a final glance in the small mirror, she softly opened the door.
"Ah, ah, Curly here," Sconda replied. "When did he come?" "To-day. He was caught as he came through the pass. He shot, but missed." "Where is he now?" "At Taku's." Weston placed his hand to his forehead in perplexity. "This is certainly a great home-coming," he muttered. "Trouble everywhere, with white men entering the place by lake and pass. Look, Sconda, bring Curly here in one hour. See?"
With a marvelous restraint, Sconda merely took the weapon from the enraged man's pocket, and then walking over to Reynolds, swiftly cut the cords which bound him to the tree and freed his hands. Finding himself unbound, Reynolds cast one glance toward Glen, and saw her looking at him with a peculiar expression in her eyes. He seemed to read there a challenge, which could have but one meaning.
But Sconda knew every step of the way, and for the first time since leaving Glen West he took the lead and guided the band. Not a word was spoken as they defiled down that steep, narrow trail, and to anyone watching, they would have appeared like spectres coming from the unseen world.
There was no time to lose, so in another minute Sconda had the boat close alongside, and with the aid of Taku the helpless man was lifted from his perilous position. When Glen saw that the rescued man was not her father, she breathed more freely. But the first glimpse of his face, bearded though it was, reminded her of someone she had seen before.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking