CHAPTER XII.

SADIE’S SACRIFICE.

The prisoners marched firmly, and not a cheek blanched as they saw where they were led and realized the fearful danger in which they stood. Will Jackwood started forward and addressed one of his subordinates, who, for the time being, had been in command of the band.

“Did _you_ take them, Justin? If you can say that you did so without aid from the Indians, then you may ask any thing you like at my hands.”

“Nary red,” replied the man. “We caught them crossing the river in a canoe, and pounced on ’em almost before they could lift a hand, but that Cooney Joe laid out Jack Ferguson, and Saul Sloan has got a bad wound in the shoulder, from Melton’s knife. Is that satisfactory?”

“Excellent! Black-Hawk, I claim these prisoners as my own, as my men took them without help.”

“They are yours,” replied Black-Hawk. “An Indian chief knows how to be just.”

“Now then, Captain Charles Melton, you are in my power; do you understand, in my power! You shall rue the day when you dared come between me and the woman I love.”

“What do you mean, renegade?” replied the young scout. “I never wronged you in my life.”

“Perhaps; we shall see how it turns out. Keep them safe, boys; set a double guard upon them, and for your lives, let none escape. Ah, my good, valiant, chivalric Joe, how you will repent having raised your hand against me.”

“I do repent, Will,” said Joe, quietly. “I repent most awfully. I ought to have lifted yer ha’r on the spot, by gracious. ’Twould have served you just right, and saved a good deal of trouble.”

“Take them away, boys, take them away. Ha; don’t let the girl speak to them or she will contrive some way to set them free. Look out for Minneoba above all others, for she is as cute as the devil. Miss Sadie, do I deceive myself when I think that you will not _now_ disdain to hold some conversation with me?”

“What do you wish to say to me, sir?” replied Sadie, who saw the dreadful peril of her friends, and wished to save them if possible.

“Say to Black-Hawk that you wish to speak to me apart from the rest and he will give you permission. I see a way in which you can save these men.”

She spoke to the chief, who nodded kindly, and she followed Black Will a little distance from the camp.

“That is far enough,” she said, pausing under a great tree. “What have you to say to me?”

“Change your way of speaking; be more complaisant to me, my dear girl, for the more kindly you use me the better it will be for yonder men who are doomed beyond hope if I so much as lift a finger. First of all—do you love this Captain Melton?”

“He has never spoken to me,” replied Sadie. “How do I know that he cares for me?”

“That is not the question at issue. Do you love him? That is what I asked.”

“How can I answer that, when I do not know my own heart? He is a brave and good man, and I could love him dearly if he loved me as well. I will say no more upon that point.”

“At least you care enough for him to wish to save his life?”

“Yes—yes; I would do almost any thing for that,” she replied, eagerly.

“It has gone as far as that, has it? My dear girl, you are further gone than you imagined. Now, I do not wish to be incumbered by prisoners. If we can not come to terms, I shall find it necessary to put these fellows out of the way, and shall certainly do so. There are many ways in which to do this, and my friends the Indians will doubtless be happy to take the laboring oar out of my hands.”

“Do you mean that you would be base enough to give them up to the torture?” she cried.

“Undoubtedly, my Indian friends might find it in their hearts to burn them if they only had them. I was present at a spectacle of this kind, the other day, where they barbecued a traitorous Indian. It was not pretty, and I may say did not amuse me after the first gush, and I went so far as to kill the poor fellow with my own hand, to put him out of his pain. It would distress me very much to see any of your friends in a like delicate situation.”

“What do you ask of me, William Jackwood? Do you wish to drive me mad? You could not—_could_ not be so base.”

“I would do any thing for revenge,” replied the man, hoarsely. “I tell you, upon my honor as a man, that if you do not promise to be my wife—I know that you will keep your word—these men shall all die as I have said. Make that promise, and upon the day when you become my wife, all shall be set free except one.”

“Which one do you mean?”

“Tom Bantry; he is a cursed traitor.”

“That man must be saved, at all hazards,” replied Sadie, firmly. “Of all your villainous band, William Jackwood, he alone showed a spark of pity when my unhappy father was cast into the furious flood, bound and helpless. What I would not do for love I will do for gratitude, and I give you my hand, if you will swear upon your honor that these men shall go free, and at once.”

“You are sensible,” he said, eagerly. “I had not hoped that you would yield so easily, and I will make it the study of my life to make you happy as—”

“Silence! Give me your promise and I will give you mine.”

“I swear by the only things I hold pure—the memory of my mother and my love for you—that these men shall all be spared.”

“And I promise to be your wife, if we both live. Oh, God, forgive me if I do wrong in this, but I can not see these brave men sacrificed, who have come into this deadly peril for my sake. William Jackwood, understand me fully, and do not say in the after times that I deceived you. I hate you—I shall always hate you—but I will be your wife.”

“All right,” said Jackwood, with a light laugh. “I will try to change your opinion of me when we are married. And now you are at liberty, and I will leave it to you to tell Black-Hawk that you have changed your mind, while I prepare to leave him. The chief has not used me well, and I do not fight the battles of those who do not treat me as a friend.”

She went away with drooping head, and he stood in the same spot, moodily tapping his boot-leg with a small switch he carried. He was not fully satisfied, although he had gained the stake for which he had been playing so long. She had told him that she hated him, and had as good as said she loved Charles Melton, and yet had promised to be his wife. As he stood there, a man panting for breath and bleeding from several wounds, rushed up to him, and in his disfigured countenance he saw something which reminded him of Dick Garrett, and stopped him.

“Dick, what is the matter?”

“Played out!” replied Dick, dropping exhausted on the sod. “Give me some rum, for I am half dead.”

Jackwood put his flask to the mouth of the exhausted man and he drank long and eagerly, and drew a deep breath of relief.

“Ah-h-h! That goes to the spot, Will. I’ve had a long run—chased by the devil’s kid, and it’s a mercy that I have got in alive. It all came of chasing that accursed girl, who got into the woods.”

“It was not your fault, Dick,” said Jackwood. “Minneoba came in and told us about it, and we sent out parties after her, and one of them picked her up.”

“Take care of her yourself, after this,” panted Dick. “I’ve seen the devil to-day, and fought him, and I don’t want any more.”

“Where are the rest of your men?”

“Gone under, I reckon. Jack Fish and Tracey got into the woods, and the rest are dead. I had to play ’possum, or I would have been cooked, too. Give me another drink, and I’ll tell you about it.”

Jackwood gave him the flask, and for a moment nothing was heard except the musical gurgle of the liquor. When he lowered it, a considerable vacuum existed in the vessel, and he told the story of the chase after Sadie with many expletives not necessary to set down here. When he had finished the tale he did the same with the liquor, and stood up.

“You are wounded, Dick!”

“Nothing of much account. I’ve been cut and scratched in diving through the brushes, for that hairy cuss chased me almost into camp. I thought he’d never give it up.”

“I don’t know who or what it can be,” said Jackwood, musingly, “and I don’t care much. Go and wash the blood from your face, and then get the men together, for we must leave this camp. It is all up with Black-Hawk, for Atkinson has come with an army, and he will clean out the Indians in the twinkling of an eye.”

Garrett moved away slowly, and Jackwood advanced to the side of Black-Hawk, who was talking with Sadie. She did not look at him as he came up, but Minneoba faced him boldly, with her pretty face showing the utmost anger and contempt.

“What has the son of Red-Bird said to frighten the Wild Rose?” she cried, angrily. “He is a coward and no brave.”

“You had better send your daughter away, Black-Hawk,” said Jackwood, quietly. “I have borne insults enough in this camp, and will not stay here.”

“The son of Red-Bird promised to stay and fight for his red brothers,” said Black-Hawk, reproachfully, “and when he sees the enemy in sight he runs away like a frightened hound. It is well; Black-Hawk would not have any except brave men follow him.”

“It is false, Indian,” cried Will Jackwood. “Here, in the midst of your wild band, I defy you to prove that while you were true to me, I failed to do my duty like a man. But when you dared to take away my prisoner, my wife that is to be, in that day I leave you, never to return.”

“Go,” replied Black-Hawk. “I have been deceived in the son of Red-Bird. His father died in the white man’s prison, and now he basely turns away when the battle is nigh.”

“Stay with me, Wild Rose,” cried Minneoba. “My father is a strong chief and will protect you from harm.”

“I can not—I dare not,” replied Sadie. “If I stay with you, my friends, who are his prisoners, must die.”

“My father will take them away from him,” said Minneoba, looking pleadingly at the old chief.

“Let him do so—let him make himself a dog, if he dares,” replied Jackwood. “I will tell his baseness throughout the tribes, and not a man of them all dare look me in the face until I am righted.”

The chief hung his head, for he had pledged his sacred word that Jackwood should keep his prisoners. The scoundrel knew his character too well to doubt for a moment that the Indian would keep his word, and let them go away with the prisoners. Minneoba pleaded in vain, and with loud lamenting, followed the compact force of Jackwood to the edge of the forest, and saw them go away with the prisoners, closely guarded, and Sadie walking by the side of William Jackwood, with a hard, bitter look upon her beautiful face. Garrett, who recovered quickly from every evil, turned about and blew a kiss at Minneoba, who at once fitted an arrow to the string, and would have sent it after him, but that he took shelter among the men, laughing.

“‘The world is all before us where to choose,’ boys,” said Jackwood, “but one thing is certain, if this thing goes against the Indians, and of course it will, this territory won’t be very healthy for us. What do you say?”

“We’ll find a place to live, Cap,” replied Garrett. “The world owes us a living, and we’ll have it too, or else make trouble.”

“Don’t you think we had better find a hiding-place and see what is going to happen? There will be pretty pickings for us if the day should, by any chance, favor the Indians, even for a time.”

“I know the place you mean, Cap,” said Jack Fish, who had come in before they marched. “The neatest hiding-place in the West.”

“How far away?”

“’Bout six mile, I reckon.”

“Lead the way, then.”

Fish took the advance, and Jackwood assisted the weary steps of Sadie over the rugged road before them. It led through tangled thickets, under trees which had been the growth of centuries, and ended in a circular forest opening, so difficult to reach, that Black Will was obliged to carry Sadie in places, so worn out had she become.

The grass was green in the little glade, and the birds were singing, as one by one the troop came out from beneath the canopy of leaves, and gained a footing on the level turf.

“Jack Fish,” said the renegade, “you have deserved well of your country. I could live here forever. Here we rest, until the thing is decided one way or another.”

“How will we live?” queried Garrett.

“The woods are full of game, and we will kill it so far from the camp, that no one will suspect us of being here. Captain Melton, will you give me your word of honor not to try to escape, provided I free your arms?”

Melton was about to refuse, but catching Sadie’s eye, he changed his mind, and made the required promise. It was not extended to Tom Bantry, and Cooney Joe, who were tightly bound, and placed under guard. Sadie was coming forward with the intention of speaking to Melton, when the bushes parted near her, and the face of the demon of the woods appeared, peeping out among the leaves.