Then he quickly lifted the young woman to her saddle; and, remounting his own steed, again set forward. Bradford and Douglas closely followed the two. The young scout had recovered his rifle, and was again watching for a chance to dart away in the darkness. But the Indians were close about—the risk was too great. He felt that in saving La Violette’s life he had thrown away his one opportunity of regaining his freedom; and he tried to condemn himself for a sentimental fool. But when he essayed to shape the thought in his mind, the girl’s fair face arose before him and rebuked him. An hour after darkness had fallen, the Indians encamped upon the site of an old village. Several ramshackle huts were still standing. Two of these Tenskwatawa appropriated to his own and his daughter’s use. Bradford seized upon a third for himself and his prisoner. Soon huge fires were blazing along the banks of the stream, effectually dispelling the cold and darkness. The savages cooked a liberal part of the food they had; and—like true children of the forest—feasted upon it, nor asked how or whence more was to be obtained. In the middle of the dirt floor of one of the cabins standing near the creek bank a fire burned brightly. The smoke escaped through a hole in the dilapidated bark roof. On opposite sides of the pile of blazing faggots sat Bradford and Douglas. “Are you sorry you didn’t escape at the time of the stampede?” the former asked suddenly. “Of course,” returned the other, without looking up. “Why do you ask?” “Oh!” Bradford chuckled, “I thought perhaps the fact that you had formed the acquaintance of the charming La Violette—and had received her promise of aid—had reconciled you to captivity.” “It’s unnecessary to make answer to such a nonsensical supposition,” Ross replied pettishly. Then after a moment’s silence: “How long do you mean to keep me prisoner?” “Truly, I don’t know.” “A few weeks?” “Yes; or months—or years.” “Humph! Do you take me for a child?” Ross cried scornfully. “Oh, no!” was the suave reply. “Do you expect me to make no further effort to escape?” “I trust you won’t.” “Why?” “Because it would be useless—dangerous.” “Useless! What’s to hinder me from stabbing you to the heart, at this very moment, and making my escape in the darkness?” “Peep out at the door,” Bradford returned coolly. “There’s a better answer to your question than I can give you.” Ross acted upon his companion’s suggestion, and beheld two stalwart braves standing guard, one on each side of the doorway. Returning to the fire, the young man flung himself upon the ground and maintained a moody silence.