She raised her head. She was lying on a
buffalo robe; her hands and feet were bound; the floor was littered
with blankets and beaded buckskin garments. Through a narrow opening
she saw that the day was far spent; Indians and horses passed to and
fro; there was a bustle outside and jabber of Indian jargon; the
wind blew hard and drops of rain pattered on the tent.
Allie could scarcely credit the evidence of her own senses. Here she
was alive! She tried to see and feel if she had been hurt. Her arms
and body appeared bruised, and they ached, but she was not in any
great pain. Her hopes arose. If the Sioux meant to kill her they
would have done it at once. They might intend to reserve her for
torture, but more likely their object was to make her a captive in
the tribe. In that case Slingerland would surely find her and get
her freedom.
Rain began to fall more steadily. Allie smelled smoke and saw the
reflection of fires on the wall of the tent. Presently a squaw
entered. She was a huge woman, evidently old, very dark of face, and
wrinkled. She carried a bowl and platter which she set down, and,
grunting, she began to untie Allie's hands. Then she gave the girl a
not ungentle shake. Allie sat up.
"Do you--do they mean--to harm and kill me?" asked Allie.
The squaw shook her head to indicate she did not understand, but her
gestures toward the things she had brought were easy to interpret.
Pages:
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190