“Bah! you are dull—very stupid. Well then, I am sworn brother to Chigilli, the Kiowa chief. He is waiting for me to send him word when all is in readiness for him to strike a blow at the settlement. My nephew is to bring them on—seventy-five strong. He has my instructions to follow back his trail—and to kill or capture all who may be upon it. This is why I laughed. I have just been scouting round them, so close that I could have picked off any one of their number, had that been my wish. But I have a different fate in store for Hawksley—the rest I care not for. Now then, you have something more to ponder over. You should thank me for keeping your mind from rusting—but I have long since ceased to look for gratitude from those of my race. Ha! ha!” Campbell did not reply, and the old man sunk into a reverie that lasted for hours. At length he was aroused by Lola, who told him that day was dawning. The old man arose and emerged from the chamber, while after a quiet greeting to Ned, Lola busied herself with preparations for the morning meal. For an hour after sunrise, Mestayer watched at the edge of the _baranca_, yet so close to the den that Lola could not put her resolve of freeing Campbell into execution, without the certainty of a deadly collision between him and her father, an extremity that she could not as yet bring herself to brave. But she regretted not having done so, when Mestayer reappeared and bade her bring forth her pony. As she reluctantly obeyed, Campbell saw that the horses were kept concealed in an apartment of the cave. Mestayer spoke decisively, and Lola dared not disobey. “You will ride out along the trail that I told you of, and see if you can see any thing of our friends. Do not go beyond the creek, but wait there, if needs be, for half an hour. If you do not see them then, hasten back.” Lola emerged from the _baranca_ and dashed away over the prairie with lightning speed. Mestayer resumed his position as look-out, his eyes eagerly following the swiftly flying figure of his daughter. Campbell had read aright the quick glance thrown at him by Lola. She feared that she could not effect his release until too late. His heart sunk within him, and he closed his eyes in deep and troubled reflection. However, he was to be aroused ere long. A low, faint rustle came from beyond, and then a figure appeared at the angle behind which Campbell had frequently observed Mestayer disappear. A face that bore an excited yet troubled look; pale and worn, yet very beautiful. The large, wild-looking eyes rested upon the form of the young hunter as he lay upon the couch, and the lips parted, the arms outstretched, as, with a low cry, the figure glided forward. In amazement Campbell raised his eyes. Then a low, glad cry broke from his lips as he recognized in the figure that of his dearly beloved one, Fannie Hawksley. He tried to outstretch his arms, but the attempt recalled his situation.