But through the afternoon there was no
weakening of the pressure from the rear till the evening shadows and the
frequent falling of the worn-out beasts forced a slackening of the pace
and finally a halt.
Sick with horror and loathing, Cameron dismounted and unsaddled his
broncho. He had hardly finished this operation when Little Thunder
rode up upon a strange pony, leading a beautiful white broncho behind.
Cameron could not repress an exclamation of disgust as the Indian drew
near him.
"Beautiful beast that," said Raven carelessly, pointing to the white
pony.
Cameron turned his eyes upon the pony and stood transfixed with horror.
"My God!" he exclaimed. "Look at that!" Across the beautiful white
shoulders and reaching down clear to the fetlock there ran a broad
stain, dull red and horrible. Then through his teeth, hard clenched
together, these words came forth: "Some day, by God's help, I shall wipe
out that stain."
The trader shrugged his shoulders carelessly, but made no reply.
CHAPTER V
SERGEANT CRISP
The horror of the day followed Cameron through the night and awoke with
him next morning. Every time his eyes found the Indian his teeth came
together in a grinding rage as he repeated his vow, "Some day I shall
bring you to justice. So help me God!"
Against Raven somehow he could not maintain the same heat of rage.
Pages:
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425