Brighteyes proved herself to be quite as expert as her male companions in advancing like a snake through the long grass, though encumbered with a blanket wrapped round her shoulders. The use of this blanket soon became apparent. As the three lay prone on their faces looking down at the camp, from which the sound of voices still arose in subdued murmurs, the young chief said to his sister—

 

“Let the signal be a few notes of the song Brighteyes learned from the white preacher. Go.”

 

Without a word of reply, the girl began to move gently forward, maintaining her recumbent position as she went, and gradually, as it were, melted away.

 

The moon was still shining brightly, touching every object with pale but effective lights, and covering hillocks and plains with correspondingly dark shadows. In a few minutes Brighteyes had crept past the young sentinel, and lay within sight—almost within ear shot of the camp.

 

Much to her satisfaction she observed that the Indians had not bound their captives. Even the missionary’s hands were free. Evidently they thought, and were perhaps justified in thinking, that escape was impossible, for the horses of the party were all gathered together and hobbled, besides being under a strong guard; and what chance could women and children have, out on the plains on foot, against mounted men, expert to follow the faintest trail? As for the white man, he was a man of peace and unarmed, as well as ignorant of warriors’ ways. The captives were therefore not only unbound, but left free to move about the camp at will, while some of their captors slept, some fed, and others kept watch.

 

The missionary had just finished singing a hymn, and was about to begin to read a portion of God’s Word when one of the women left the group, and wandered accidentally close to the spot where Brighteyes lay. It was Lightheart.

 

“Sister,” whispered Brighteyes.

 

The girl stopped abruptly, and bent forward to listen, with intense anxiety depicted on every feature of her pretty brown face.

 

“Sister,” repeated Brighteyes, “sink in the grass and wait.”

 

Lightheart was too well trained in Indian ways to speak or hesitate. At once, but slowly, she sank down and disappeared. Another moment, and Brighteyes was at her side.

 

“Sister,” she said, “Manitou has sent help. Listen. We must be wise and quick.”

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