"Now you can both go to sleep.I shall need you no more till morning.I shall keep an eye on him.Off you go.Good-night.""You will be sure to call me if I can be of service," said Mandy.
"I shall do no such thing.I expect you to sleep.I shall look after this end of the job.""He is very sure of himself, is he not?" said Moira in a low tone to her sister-in-law as they passed out of the tent.
"He has a right to be," said Mandy proudly."He knows his work, and now I feel as if I can sleep in peace.What a blessed thing sleep is," she added, as, without undressing, she tumbled on to the couch prepared for her.
"Is Dr.Martin very clever? I mean, is he an educated man?""What?" cried Mandy."Dr.Martin what?"
"Is he very clever? Is he--an educated man?""Eh, what?" she repeated, yawning desperately."Oh, I was asleep.""Is he clever?"
"Clever? Well, rather--" Her voice was trailing off again into slumber.
"And is he an educated man?"
"Educated? Knows his work if that's what you mean.Oh-h--but I'm sleepy.""Is he a gentleman?"
"Eh? What?" Mandy sat up straight."A gentleman? I should say so! That is, he is a man all through right to his toe-tips.And gentle--more gentle than any woman I ever saw.Will that do?
Good-night." And before Moira could make reply she was sound asleep.
Before the night was over the opportunity was given the doctor to prove his manhood, and in a truly spectacular manner.For shortly after midnight Moira found herself sitting bolt upright, wide-awake and clutching her sister-in-law in wild terror.Outside their tent the night was hideous with discordant noises, yells, whoops, cries, mingled with the beating of tom-toms.Terrified and trembling, the two girls sprang to the door, and, lifting the flap, peered out.
It was the party of braves returning from the great powwow so rudely interrupted by Cameron.They were returning in an evil mood, too, for they were enraged at the arrest of Eagle Feather and three accomplices in his crime, disappointed in the interruption of their sun dance and its attendant joys of feast and song, and furious at what appeared to them to be the overthrow of the great adventure for which they had been preparing and planning for the past two months.This was indeed the chief cause of their rage, for it seemed as if all further attempts at united effort among the Western tribes had been frustrated by the discovery of their plans, by the flight of their leader, and by the treachery of the Blackfeet Chief, Running Stream, in surrendering their fellow-tribesmen to the Police.To them that treachery rendered impossible any coalition between the Piegans and the Blackfeet.
Furthermore, before their powwow had been broken up there had been distributed among them a few bottles of whisky provided beforehand by the astute Sioux as a stimulus to their enthusiasm against a moment of crisis when such stimulus should be necessary.These bottles, in the absence of their great leader, were distributed among the tribes by Running Stream as a peace-offering, but for obvious reason not until the moment came for their parting from each other.
Filled with rage and disappointment, and maddened with the bad whisky they had taken, they poured into the encampment with wild shouting accompanied by the discharge of guns and the beating of drums.In terror the girls clung to each other, gazing out upon the horrid scene.
"Whatever is this, Mandy?" cried Moira.
But her sister-in-law could give her little explanation.The moonlight, glowing bright as day, revealed a truly terrifying spectacle.A band of Indians, almost naked and hideously painted, were leaping, shouting, beating drums and firing guns.Out from the tents poured the rest of the band to meet them, eagerly inquiring into the cause of their excitement.Soon fires were lighted and kettles put on, for the Indian's happiness is never complete unless associated with feasting, and the whole band prepared itself for a time of revelry.
As the girls stood peering out upon this terrible scene they became aware of the doctor standing at their side.
"Say, they seem to be cutting up rather rough, don't they?" he said coolly."I think as a precautionary measure you had better step over into the other tent."Hastily gathering their belongings, they ran across with the doctor to his tent, from which they continued to gaze upon the weird spectacle before them.
About the largest fire in the center of the camp the crowd gathered, Chief Trotting Wolf in the midst, and were harangued by one of the returning braves who was evidently reciting the story of their experiences and whose tale was received with the deepest interest and was punctuated by mad cries and whoops.The one English word that could be heard was the word "Police," and it needed no interpreter to explain to the watchers that the chief object of fury to the crowding, gesticulating Indians about the fire was the Policeman who had been the cause of their humiliation and disappointment.In a pause of the uproar a loud exclamation from an Indian arrested the attention of the band.Once more he uttered his exclamation and pointed to the tent lately occupied by the ladies.Quickly the whole band about the fire appeared to bunch together preparatory to rush in the direction indicated, but before they could spring forward Trotting Wolf, speaking rapidly and with violent gesticulation, stood in their path.But his voice was unheeded.He was thrust aside and the whole band came rushing madly toward the tent lately occupied by the ladies.
