67. LXVII.
THE RIVAL OF THE HALF-BREED.
THE young Indian approached the group with the
silent tread of his race, and pausing before them,
folded his arms and said:
“I have come to show the Mountain Dove and
her companious that they have a friend.”
Cannie raised her head eagerly, and fixing an earnest,
blushing look upon the Indian, murmured:
“Will you go away with us, Lightfoot?”
The Indian inclined his head.
“The tribe are going to sleep. Soon they will be slumbering.
Then I will carry you off, and place you on the
homeward path.”
Cannie clasped her hands and gazed so gratefully into
Lightfoot's face, that the blood rushed to his cheeks, and it
required all his self-control to suppress the tremor which
ran through his frame. He did suppress it, however: in a
moment he had recovered his presence of mind: and obeying
a gesture from the girl, he came silently, and sat down
near the group.
Their plans were quickly communicated to him, and the
expression of eye which greeted the announcement, was one
of unmistakable satisfaction. His reply was, that their
plan was his own. He had thought at once of the fissure
in the upper cave, and he came to prepare them for the
moment, when he would silently conduct them to the
place.
They conversed thus for a quarter of an hour in whispers,
and arranged all the details of the scheme. As soon
as the savages, in the lower cave were sunk in deep sleep,
they would be able to put their project in execution: and as
there were many indications of the fact that the braves
were, one by one, yielding to their long day's journey, the
realization of the hopes of the party did not seem very far
distant.
Lightfoot remained then, silent and motionless in his
place, listening with the keen ear of the Indian, to all noises
which ascended in muffled murmurs from below. One by
one these noises died away:—the muttered “Oughs” of the
warriors, as they wrapped their blankets around them, and
addressed themselves to sleep, became less and less frequent:—finally
all sounds lapsed into silence, with the
exception of the heavy breathing which indicated the slumber
of the tribe.
It was no part of the young Indian's plan, however, to
carry out his enterprise at once. He was well acquainted
with the echoing peculiarities of the cavern—and his design
was to wait patiently until the troubled sleep of the
warriors became a very heavy, log-like insensibility: and
this would not take place for an hour or two. By that
time, the sentinel also would be nodding over the fire, and
they might proceed without difficulty to their undertaking.
This had been communicated to the three women, and by
the advice of Lightfoot, they had lain down to snatch the
hasty slumber requisite to support them in their flight. All
obeyed, and worn out with excitement, were soon asleep.
Lightfoot remained thus silent and motionless for two or
three hours, wearily listening, when, all at once, a cautious
step descended the winding staircase from the upper cavern.
He rose, for this could scarcely be one of the Indians.
With his hand on his knife he waited. Then at sight of
the figure which appeared at the mouth of the cavern, he
uttered a low exclamation of astonishment.
It was the figure of Falconbridge.
