Allie partook of the Indian food, which was coarse and unpalatable,
but it satisfied her hunger. When she had finished the squaw
laboriously tied the thongs round Allie's wrists, and, pushing her
back on the robe, covered her up and left her.
After that it grew dark rapidly, and the rain increased to a
torrent. Allie, hardly realizing how cold she had been, began to
warm up under the woolly robe. The roar of the rain drowned all
other sounds outside. She wondered if Slingerland had returned to
his cabin, and, if so, what he had done. She felt sorry for him. He
would take the loss hard. But he would trail her; he would hear of a
white girl captive in the Sioux camp and she would soon be free. How
fortunate she was! A star of Providence had watched over her. The
prayer she had breathed had been answered. She thought of Neale. She
would live for him; she would pray and fight off harm; she would
find him if he could not find her. And lying there bound and
helpless in an Indian camp, captive of the relentless Sioux, for all
she knew in peril of death, with the roar of wind and rain around
her, and the darkness like pitch, she yet felt her pulses throb and
thrill and her spirit soar at remembrance of the man she loved. In
the end she would find Neale; and it was with his name trembling on
her lips that she fell asleep.
Pages:
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191