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Updated: May 3, 2025
Hardly; for he had seemed quite contented of late, and there was no selfish jealousy in him; he had never been jealous of his mother's fondness for Adam. But had he seen anything of what their mother talked about? Adam longed to know this, for he thought he could trust Seth's observation better than his mother's.
Heaven alone knows what I fancied it might be; indeed, I had little enough time in which to guess, for I had barely touched the ground, my mind still filled with memories of Seth's grotesque horrors, when the whole figure emerged into view, and I knew him instantly for a negro, though I had never before seen one of his race.
Rosebud had seated herself at Seth's feet, with her back to him so that he could not see her face. She was dressed in a simple dark gown that made her look very frail. Her golden hair was arranged in a great loose knot at the nape of her neck from which several unruly strands had escaped.
Rube dropped back into his chair, and his eyes were questioning. Ma was staring through her spectacles at her boy. She, too, was asking a mute question. But hers was merely a quiet curiosity, while Rube's, slow old Rube's, was prompted by Seth's manner, which, instinctively, he knew to be a false one. Rosebud was patting General's head as he sat at her side.
Through the greater part of the day Seth kept his sleepless watch. Only once did he abandon his post, and then merely to return to his horse to secure food from his saddle-bags. When he rose to go thither it was to be seen that he was fully armed, which had not been the case when he left the farm. Seth's arguments were as simple and straightforward as he was himself, and none the less shrewd.
It was a race for that muffled figure, and Rube was an easy winner. When Seth came up he found the bundle of furs in the bear-like embrace of the older man. It was Rosebud! Questions raced through Seth's brain as he looked on, panting with the exertion his enfeebled frame had been put to. How? Why? What was the meaning of it all? But his questions remained unspoken. Nor was he left in doubt long.
He was morosely silent, and his presence caused much speculation amongst those who knew nothing of what had happened on the previous night. Seth's replies when questioned on the subject were evasive. Rube and Parker were no wiser than the rest, except that Seth had told them that Nevil was his prisoner, and must on no account be allowed to escape.
They are men well learned in the craft of the Indians. Dan Somers and Seth are sharing the same cover. The sheriff is watching the last of the braves as they desperately hasten out of range. At last he moves and starts to rise from his prone position. But Seth's strong hand checks him and pulls him down again. "Not yet," he said. "Why?" But the sheriff yielded nevertheless.
These were Seth's arguments, and he intended to prove them by remaining on Little Black Fox's trail until he was assured that the danger to Rosebud no longer existed. It was in the nature of the man that he had sought no outside aid, except that of his faithful General. The story the watcher read as he observed the Indians' movements was a long one.
They heard the gurgling of the full brooklet hurrying down the hill, and the faint twittering of the early birds. For they walked in silence, though with a pleased sense of companionship. "Good-bye, lad," said Adam, laying his hand on Seth's shoulder and looking at him affectionately as they were about to part. "I wish thee wast going all the way wi' me, and as happy as I am."
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