The Argosy, April 1912 — page 59: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AS THE DICE FELL. I retorted. “It showed what an Indian can do. They appear and disappear as sud- denly and as soundlessly as serpents or foxes.” ée But— ” “T was not dreaming. I was wide awake, and no dream ever knew so sane a conversation as I held with the princess; no, nor so wise a warning as she gave me.”’ Smith smiled in that exasperatingly su- perior fashion of his. I could see he did not believe a word, and that he was quite satisfied in his own mind that I had dreamed the whole experience. Once he had formed a conclusion (which he ever did with startling quickness and usually with equally startling correctness) nothing on earth could shake him from it. Yet I was about to try again to convince him, when, of a sudden, an Indian burst into the clearing. He was the man who had “picked up” my trail. At a glance I knew he had followed that trail to the place where his slain comrade lay. I knew it even before he called out tidings in a scared, excited voice to his fellows. Some ran to verify the tale and to bear the dead man back to camp. The rest stared at me in horrified loathing. Yet none of them dared raise hand or voice against me. The morning meal was prepared and eaten hastily and without words. Then camp was struck and we set forth at a rapid pace along the brook’s edge. The Indians walked in front of us, be- hind us, on either: side of us. But they would not willingly come within arm’s length of either of us. “You saw the savage brought back to camp,” I said to Smith. “Does that seem to you like part of my dream?”’ “No,” he answered. “The man no doubt attacked you, as you say. And a marauding Indian of another tribe shot him from ambush. You were doubtless roused from your odd dream by the attack, and that is why you failed to see whence the arrow came.” ‘““We were not dreaming that day in the glade,” I insisted, “when we saw one In- dian tomakawked and another shot by in- visible hands.”’ Smith made no answer, but trudged on, his brow furrowed. Presently he said: “It was not like Aquia to desert me.” Now for the past two days we had harped 45 ceaselessly in our talks upon Aquia’s strange defection and had come to no sen- sible conclusion about it. So I saw no profit in reopening the subject. I did not reply. Smith continued, a moment later: “Could he be following us unnoticed? Could it have been he in the long grass, that day, who killed the two Indians? And, last night—” “We have gone over that point before,”’ I said wearily, “and we decided it could not be. These savages keep as close a look- out for spies as if they were in hostile coun- try. You remember how they scoured the neighborhood of the glade that day for the trail of the unseen slayer. And you saw them hunt the trail again this morning after the Indian’s body was found.” “Yes,” agreed Smith thoughtfully, add- ing with a chuckle: “It was clever of me, when they asked what had become of the tall Indian who had marched with us, to tell them he was our servant-spirit and that he was still at our side, invisible.” : “It was clever,” I acquiesced, “in that it doubtless kept them from continuing their search for poor Aquia and tracking him down. Have you thought how you are to conduct the negotiations with Pow- hatan?” “T have it all planned out,” he an- swered confidently. “Do not fear. As I told you back in London, I have been in a thousand death-perils, and I have ever a habit of surviving them.” It was an hour or so later that we came out upon a great clearing in whose center rose a hill. The slopes of the hill were honeycombed with huts, caves, and skin- tents. On the summit stood a great, irregular- shaped house, a single story high; thatched of roof, and walled with unhewn logs. Around this huge building stood a veritable forest of gaudy totem-poles. “The house of the king,” curtly grunted the sub-chief in reply to my question. The plain at the foot of the slope was swarming with Indians of both sexes and of all sizes. All were staring eagerly and wonderingly at us. Upon our approach they raised no clamor. But in dead si- lence they made a wide path for us among them—a path that ran straight to the hill. With our escorts we entered this lane in the crowd. I glanced keenly to left and right, but could see no sign of the princess. No, nor of any savage whose bearing or cComicloool. CO