"Well, I could not desert him. That was in '49--over a year ago. Father had money enough to pay for our passage out, and leaving St. Louis, we turned our faces toward the Land of Gold. Alas! not one of all that train--men, women, children--not one of them all ever reached the land of their hopes. "I do not know whether the story of our disaster ever reached civilization or not. If so, it must have been by accident, for we--father and I--alone, of all that company, are now alive! "One wild, stormy night the blow fell. The day past had been one of unusually severe toil, and most probably the guards set to watch over the safety of their friends and kindred, completely exhausted, yielded to slumber. For the cunning, treacherous enemy crept, unheard and unsuspected, into the very heart of our camp. And then--" Shuddering, Lucy paused, bowing her head upon her hands. The scene recalled by her story overpowered her. "Don't say any more, Lucy, if it is so hard," whispered Jack, his hand gently touching the bowed head. "Perhaps I am foolishly sensitive," Lucy added, with a wan smile, as she raised her head. "But at times that horrible scene comes before my eyes until it seems that my brain must burst. It is a relief to speak of it, though, to one who can understand. "I can remember but little of that horrible night. The Indians attacked us--Blackfeet, as I afterward learned. They conquered almost without a blow being struck by the white men, so complete was the surprise. And then--it was a merciless massacre. "I remember wondering how long it would be before my time would come. I had been awakened, but was still in our own tent. Father lay at my feet, as I believed, still sleeping, though I wondered greatly that the horrible din did not waken him. I know now that he was senseless, stricken down by a brutal blow from the hand of the one who guarded me. "This man was the one who had acted as our guide, a middle aged, rough, hunter-like person. He had joined the train with the sole purpose of luring it to destruction. How well he succeeded, you now know. "It was a long time before I fairly regained my senses. For nearly a month I had been like a maniac, and the Indians had protected me from the malice of the renegade. This superstition alone saved my father. We were regarded as sacred beings. "But then, when my reason returned, I was again subject to the persecution of the renegade--Creeping Snake, as the Indians called him. I appealed to the chief, who could both speak and understand English, though but imperfectly, for protection against the wretch. I believe that he pitied me, but he dared not interfere. By the laws of the tribe, I belonged wholly to the renegade. "The end came sooner than I expected. One day the renegade came to the lodge that had been given father and I, and one glance at his flushed face and bloodshot eyes told me my peril. He was intoxicated, and his worst passions were fully aroused.