The Blackfoot optimist. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1907-1918, 1914-12-10
CHAPTER XIV.
The Retreat.

the tent. 1t had been knocked half
over, the camp stove overturned, the
long bench smashed into kindling
wood. With sinking heart l flung
back the sagging canvas, and cast one
glance within. As heaven witnesses,
she stood there, the blanket still
wrapped about her, her hands grasp
ing rife, her face turned toward
me. Unconsciously her lips gave ut
terance to a cry of relief, and her ex-
preston changed. l sprang forward,
eager, glad.
Rene. you are here!" cried out.
why did you stay?"
1T was the word Of monsieur" she
answered simply. Monsieur said stay
till he come"
Eyes, yes. know; but I never
thought of this; never dreamed of
such defeat. But there is no time to
waste in talk. There is nothing to do
but run for 1t now. Come, lass!"
Before she realized what was 60
ing to do, had flung away my rife
and seized her in my arms. She was
light, slender thing. and l held her
tight in the folds of the blanket,
scarcely feeling her weight She made
no effort to resist, yet her eyes-be-
wildered, NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. into
my face. l gave them no heed, my
whole purpose concentrated on the one
effort to save her, to fight a passage
through that mob of frightened men.
The spirit of panic had gripped me
also-not for myself, but for her!
Here was my duty now; not back yon-
der where those regulars stood grimly
in line, and died with their shoulders
touching; not where had fought all
day in the powder-cloud facing those
forest demons-but in the mob of fu-
gitives, battling and cursing for their
lives. The road was Uttered with guns
thrown away, with discarded blankets
and powder horns. l dared not look
back, straining every muscle, stagger-
ing forward over the ruts. The roar
of guns behind grew faint in the dis
lance; the spit of rifles from the
thickets ceased. Exhausted, breath
less, Keeling from fatigue, l put her
down, and, with arm about her, stood
an instant looking back.
They were coming, dark mass
bearing down upon us, but ahead of
them. wild with terror, his harness
Tapping at his heels, his head flung
from side to side, charged an artillery
horse full tilt. In his mad terror he
saw and knew nothing. He came
straight at us, running as if crazed.
l flung the girl into the side of the
road and leaped recklessly- for his
head. My hand gripped the name,
then the leather rein; was flung
from my feet, jerked. into the air, but
hung; my moccasins touched ground
again. I was dragged forward, rem,
dered half unconscious by blow, but
weight told. I got fingers on his nos,
trils, and he stood still. painting and
trembling. Clinging to him. warned
by shouts to hurry, stripped the har.
ness and hoisted her onto the bare
back. Even as this was accomplished
the head Of that shrieking mob was on
us; one brute grabbed her by the arm
seeking to pull her down, and l struck
him with all the force I had. Then
ran forward. clasping the horse by the
bit. crunching our way, needless OF
who opposed or blocked our passage
And they made way for us; even ir
their blind terror, they swept aside
to escape being trampled under the
animals hoofs, and left before us a
clear path.
l looked eagerly for some place in
which to turn aside, saw the faint
trace of an Indian trail, seemingly
leading down the bank of the stream,
and, with instant decision, turned into
it. walked the horse now, and Rene
sat up straight, and fastened her dis
arranged hair. The narrow trail led
through dense thickets and about a
slight hill; in five minutes we were
out of sight of the road, alone in the
wilderness. To the right through
trees was the glimmer of the river.
The horse painted heavily, and the way
was rough. There was blood l noticed
now, on his flank, and he limped slight
ly as he walked. staggered and
reeled from WEAKNESS, feeling reac-
ton from excitement, yet kept grimly
on until we must have covered two
miles, wandering in and out among the
low hills. No sounds reached us, and
az we came into a narrow ravine,
promising concealment, released my
grasp on the bit and staggered back
against the bank. Mademoiselle
slipped from her seat and fastened to
me.
"You are worn out, monsieur,
wounded?"
Worn out, yet, but nothing has
touched me save a blow or two. IL
think we can rest now"
Then it occurred to me, a thought
that had swept into my mind once
before-we had no provisions, no
chance to get away and we dare not
shoot, nor build fire.
What is it, monsieur"
why, we have nothing to eat.
Rene" I admitted reluctantly. 1T is
a long journey to the Ohio, and how
are we to keep from starving? FAITH!
but am near that now"