Prev | Current Page 268 | Next

Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Courage of Marge O'Doone"

David guessed that it was the Nest. He made
out a deep, low building, unlighted so far as he could see. Then they
entered into the fireglow. Their appearance produced a strange and
instant quiet. The beating of the tom-tom ceased. Voices died. Dark
faces stared--and that was all. There were about fifty of them about the
fires, David figured. And not a white man's face among them. They were
all Indians. A lean, night-eyed, sinister-looking lot. He was conscious
that they were scrutinizing him more than they were the girl. He could
almost feel the prick of their eyes. With her head up, his companion
walked between the fires and beyond them, looking neither to one side
nor the other. They turned the end of the huge log building and on this
side it was glowing dimly with light, and David faintly heard voices.
The girl passed swiftly into a hollow of gloom, calling softly to Tara.
The bear followed her, a grotesque, slowly moving hulk, and David
waited. He heard the clink of a chain. A moment later she returned to
him.
"There is a light in Hauck's room," she said. "His council room, he
calls it--where he makes bargains. I hope they are both there,
_Sakewawin_--both Hauck and Brokaw." She seized his hand, and held it
tightly as she led him deeper into darkness.


Pages:
256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280