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Updated: June 16, 2025
"The place is very dark," remarked the preacher, groping cautiously about after the trap-door was closed as above described. "Stan' still; I vill strik light," said Softswan. In a few moments sparks were seen flying from flint and steel, and after one or two unsuccessful efforts a piece of tinder was kindled.
"Yes; Softswan has explained it to me. But what about your plan with the Indians?" said the preacher. "I'm comin' to that," replied the hunter. "Well, daddy set to work an' made a lot o' fireworks big squibs, an' them sort o' crackers, I forget what you call 'em, that jumps about as if they was not only alive, but possessed with evil spirits "
He was a savage, in the war-paint and panoply of a Blackfoot brave. The spot to which he had crept was indeed the nearest to the hut that could be reached in that direction, but Softswan knew well that an impassable chasm separated her from the intruder, so she kept well concealed behind the breastwork, and continued to watch him through one of the peep-holes made in it for that purpose.
He was a white man, and the ghastly pallor of his face, with a few spots of blood on it and on his hands, told that he had been severely wounded. "Manitou seems to have sent an angel of light to me in my extremity," he gasped in the Indian tongue. "Come; me vill help you," answered Softswan, in her broken English, as she stooped and assisted him to rise.
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