Chapter XIII: The Scout

With the dawn of light the scout was astir, and began carefully investigating the ground. But he had gone over very little of it when he saw the old Medicine come sauntering along and enter his cave, that was so well guarded by beasts and reptiles. He watched until the old man came out again, trailed him as he visited the walled up spot where the physician was confined, and waited until he returned to the village, and then crawled near and gave vent to his thoughts after his own peculiar manner:

"Here am ernother of ther old devil's dens and I don't like ther looks on it nuther. But I must know all of his run-ways and what he am erbout. Besides, no one must know that I am eround and it may come handy ef I should have ter cut fer my life."

It was a wise though a dangerous resolution, and had not a party of hunters stopped directly in front of it to cook game, the suffering prisoner would have been immediately rescued. That prevented, but still he lingered near--crawled to the rocks above and watched them closely. It was at too great a distance, however, for him to hear what was being said, and curiosity drew him nearer. But he soon had occasion to regret it, for venturing upon the very verge of the cliff it crumbled beneath his weight and he rolled down like a great ball into their very midst!

The startled Indians fled in every direction, satisfied that it was the ghost of the man they had seen swinging from the tree above, and, taking advantage of their flight, the scout also disappeared, making the woods ring with hideous moans and laughter.

This story he knew would be circulated far and wide and believed by all but the Burning Cloud, and the valley avoided, especially after nightfall, so he prepared a number of rude torches, and having lighted one, he removed a stone, as the Medicine had done, and crawled into the prison-house of the nearly dead physician.

"Great God!" he exclaimed, as the sounds of suffering came to his ears, and he started back with the intention of retreating, for though he had enjoyed the fright of others he was not proof against the power of ghosts himself.

The sounds continued. Low moaning came distinctly, and straining his eyes he could discover nothing but a pile of stones, that so much resembled a grave as to make him shudder. Yes, it must be a ghost that was luring him to destruction, and the fate of the physician hung upon the most slender of threads.

"For the love of heaven," was breathed in a faint and trembling voice, "come and put an end to my wretched life, and I will even forgive all that you have done and pray for you."

"Great thunder and lightning!" exclaimed the scout, even more astonished than he had been before, "who be yer?"

"Oh! Wash--thank God--I am the doctor."

"Ther doctor!"

He could scarcely believe what he had heard. The physician alone and in such a place, and more than all in a tomb of stones! The scout hesitated not a moment, but, kindling a fire sufficient to illuminate the cavern, he then set to work with a will to remove the stones, muttering deep and bitter curses upon the hand that had placed them there. Then followed the loosening of the bonds, and tears came into his eyes as he saw to what a state the physician had been reduced, and holding him tenderly in his arms he heard his story.

"May ther devil burn and tear him with red-hot pinchers ferever and ever," growled the scout, from between his set teeth. "But, how much you must have suffered!"

"More than tongue can tell. But what of Olive? Is she alive? Is she well?"

"Yes--I believe so. But now, doctor, I must be off. I won't be gone very long and will bring yer somethin' to eat."

"Do not stay away any longer than is necessary."

"Yer kin bet all ther beaver-skins between heah and ther Mississip, I shan't be gone any longer than I kin posserbly help. I don't fancy ther neighborhood jest now any more than yer do."

"Now," muttered the scout, as he crawled forth into the open air again, "ter find ther Cloud."

It had grown very dark and he found his way along with difficulty, but knowing the direction of the village he steadily kept it until he could distinguish the light of the fires and even hear voices. He made his way to the trysting-place in the Indian graveyard and there awaited.

He had not long to wait, however, for Burning Cloud soon stole out from the wigwams, and when she reached the blazed trees that marked the spot devoted to the dwellings of the dead, she softly called the name of her lover.

He leaped lightly forward, and drawing her to him they sat down and conversed long and earnestly, for each had very much to tell.

Then he accompanied her as near the village as he dared--lingered and caressed her--and at last would have torn himself away and retreated to a more secure place. But, even as he turned around he was confronted by half a dozen warriors who had crept like serpents around, and was instantly pinioned.

But it was joy to him to know that the squaw had escaped, and still more so that she had been mistaken for a man. This their excited conversation among themselves revealed, and when questioned he boldly gave the name of Muck-a-kee!

Dragged into the center of the wigwams he was bound to the post of torture, and great rejoicing at his capture followed. And the very thing he had at first feared came to pass. He was known, and the air rung with the name of "Beaver Tail!"