More than once during the night she awoke in the pitchy darkness to
hear the wind blow and the rain roar. The dawn broke cold and gray,
and the storm gradually diminished. Allie lay alone for hours,
beginning to suffer by reason of her bonds and cramped limbs. The
longer she was left alone the more hopeful her case seemed.
In the afternoon she was visited by the squaw, released and fed as
before. Allie made signs that she wanted to have her feet free, so
that she could get up and move about. The squaw complied with her
wishes. Allie could scarcely stand; she felt dizzy; a burning,
aching sensation filled her limbs.
Presently the old woman led her out. Allie saw a great number of
tents, many horses and squaws and children, but few braves. The
encampment lay in a wide valley, similar to all the valleys of that
country, except that it was larger. A stream in flood swept yellow
and noisy along the edge of the encampment. The children ran at
sight of Allie, and the women stared. It was easy to see that they
disapproved of her. The few braves looked at her with dark, steady,
unfathomable eyes. The camp appeared rich in color--in horses and
trappings; evidently this tribe was not poor. Allie saw utensils,
blankets, clothing--many things never made by Indians.
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