Albert W. Aiken

“ The soul of the wolf was small, the soul of the white hunter large, and the large soul eat up the little one. The wolf became a wolf with a human soul. The soul remembered the wrong that the Shawnee warriors had done its body; it burned for revenge. It made the wolf walk erect like a human; it taught him to carry in his paw the tomahawk of the red-man—to steal upon the Shawnee chiefs in the forest—to give their souls to the dark spirit and to graven on their breasts the totem of the Red Arrow. Thus the soul keeps alive the memory of the squaw that the Shawnee warriors killed. ”

“ He said it was the ‘White Vulture,’” said the trapper.
“You don’t say so!” and the “Crow-Killer” indulged in a low whistle of astonishment. “Why, he’s the biggest fighting man in all the Crow nation. They do say he’s a perfect ‘painter’ on the war-trail. I never see’d him yet, but I’d like to!” and there was a strange tone in the old hunter’s voice, and a strange glitter in his eyes, as he uttered the words. His fingers, too, clenched tighter around the long barrel of his rifle, and there was an expression upon his face which boded danger to the Crow chief. ”

“ If Minneoba was delighted, how much greater was the joy of Sadie, who could now hope to escape from the toils of her enemies, for she knew that the forest was to the Indian girl as easy to tread as a ball-room floor for her. She returned the caresses showered upon her, and for a moment the two girls forgot that aught of evil or danger hung over them.
“I have been to my father’s camp,” said Minneoba, “and many warriors are searching for you. Black-Hawk loves the Wild Rose for her father’s sake, and will give her a shelter. ”

“ He suffered himself to slip from the saddle, and in doing so, dragged his two assailants with him, each encircled by one of his powerful arms. Once upon the ground they realized that it was not an easy work which they had undertaken, for those great arms enfolded them with a gripe which literally drove the breath from their bodies, strong men as they were. A moment more and Jim Diggs was down with the huge foot of the hunter planted on his breast, while above him stood the stalwart old man with Rafe Norris in his grasp, shaking him until it seemed as if he would tear him limb from limb. ”

“ A frightened deer came dashing through the aisles of the forest—a noble buck with branching horns that told of many a year spent under the greenwood tree.
Across a little open glade, whereon the moonbeams fell—kissing the earth as though they loved it—dashed the deer, and then, entering again the dark recesses of the forest, the brown coat of the wood-prince was lost in the inky gloom.
Then in the trail of the buck, guided by the noise of the rustling branches, came a dark form.
As the form stole, with noiseless tread, across the moonlit glade, it displayed the person of an Indian warrior. ”

“ It was too much for human nature to bear, and they stumbled over each other in their wild efforts to escape from their dreaded enemy. One fell into the clutches of the Skeleton Scout, and they went down together, and then the strange specter rose again, and pursued the now scattered and sobered savages, who, wild with terror, were flying in every direction. The Huron had not run far, and to the terror of Madge he came bounding back, flourishing over his head a heavy knife, and she closed her eyes, for it seemed the hour had come for death. ”

“ Garrett heard what he said, and thrusting his hand into the bosom of his hunting-shirt, drew a long double-barreled pistol, his eyes gleaming with rage.
“You’d turn traitor, would you?” he screamed. “Now see here, rush on that devil, you and Tracey, or I shoot you where you stand.”
“Don’t do it, Dick,” pleaded Jack Fish, dropping on his knees. “I’ll fight any thing human, but not that dreadful creature. Don’t force us on him, for the love of God.” ”

“ Within half an hour, the “Crow-Killer,” from his hiding-place, had the satisfaction of seeing the red braves gather in their warriors, mount their horses and depart, taking a course that led to the west; but no sign did he see of Leona. Yet it was evident from the words of the chiefs, that she was a prisoner in their hands.
“I’m sart’in that she’s in their hands,” he reflected, as the last of the red chiefs disappeared from the little glade and was hid from his eyes by the thicket which cut off his view of the distant prairie to the west. ”