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Updated: May 11, 2025
There was but one conclusion to which we could come; and indeed we arrived at it without much delay: they had gone off in a canoe. It was clear as words or eye-witnesses could have made it. Wingrove well knew the craft. It was known as Holt's "dug-out;" and was occasionally used as a ferry-boat, to transport across the creek such stray travellers as passed that way.
Her eyes are not directed that way: they are gazing with a basilisk glance into the eyes of the hunter. The attitude of Wingrove is at first shrinking; but a slight smile curling upon his lip, betokens that there is not much pain in the situation. A reflection, however, made at the moment, chases away the smile. It is this: "'Tarnal earthquakes! were Marian to see me now!
I had promised the ci-devant soldiers to make civilians of them before bringing them face to face with the escort; and this was to be accomplished by means of some spare wardrobe which Wingrove and I chanced to have among our packs. The place fixed upon as the scene of the metamorphosis was the butte which lay directly on our route.
Ha, ha, ha! In the desert, he will defile them. In the waters of the lake, he will drown them ha, ha, ha!" "Them's yur words o' comfort, air they?" cried Wingrove, exasperated to a pitch of fury. "Durned if I'll bar sech talk! I won't stan' it any longer. Clar out now! We want no croakin' raven hyar. Clar out! or " He was not permitted to finish the threat.
Of course he was aware, like all the others, of the purpose of our pursuit. From Sure-shot, or Wingrove, he might have learnt a little more; but neither he nor they could possibly have been acquainted with a sentiment of which, alas! I was myself in doubt the very doubt which was producing my despondency. His incidental allusion could have been only conjecture.
Rain antediluvian would not have stayed me in doors not if it had threatened the drowning of the world! Into my saddle off out of the clearing away through the dripping forest on through the sweltering swamp, I hurried. Up the creek was my route my destination, the dwelling of the hunter, Wingrove. Surely, in such weather, I should find him at home?
Take me now where you will anywhere that I may assist in saving my sister. Merciful heaven! She, too, in the power of that monster of wickedness!" Wingrove, wildly happy at once forgiving and forgiven was now called to our council. The faithful Sure-shot was also admitted to the knowledge of everything. We might stand in need of his efficient arm.
If the passion really did exist, I knew there could be no reciprocity. As Marian galloped up, and gazed in the eyes of the handsome hunter now entirely her own her ardent glance told that Wingrove was the proud possessor of that magnificent maiden. In volunteering to be one of our party Marian was submitting herself to a fearful risk. That of the rest of us was trifling in comparison.
I was myself so surprised at this proceeding, that I could not stir from the spot; and not until the Chicasaw had passed directly in front of us and halted there, could I believe that I was otherwise than dreaming. Wingrove appeared equally the victim of a bewildered surprise.
Wingrove is half frantic. He scarce knows what to say, or what to do. In his confusion he advances towards the young girl, calling her by name; but before he has half crossed the glade, her words fall upon his ear, causing him to hesitate and falter in his steps. "Frank Wingrove!" she cries, "come not near me. Your road lies the other way. Go! follow your Indian damsel.
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