Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

216 D’Albret shrugged his shoulders and he looked up into the spreading branches of the oak from whence had come the hail. Despite his former willingness—nay, his desire—to die, this unexpected reprieve flooded his being with the instinctive wish to live. “There can be no disgrace in giving our- selves up to such overpowering numbers of the savages,” he mused, and his eye sudden- ly discovered the source of the proffered ultimatum in the person of a Chickasaw who was situated in such a commanding po- Sition that his next shot could not fail to transfix one of the helpless Frenchmen. “We will at least have an opportunity of escape—if they do not murder us forth- with.” He arose to his feet and ostentatiously threw away his bloody dirk, and Rossignol did likewise; then, with folded arms and hesitant step, they emerged from their shel- ter and walked together toward the watcher in the tree. Then, as they stopped below him, a score of half naked savages surged up from the ground and seized them. Swiftly the Chickasaws pinioned the arms of the unresisting white men behind their backs and, after calling the band together with a peculiar shrill whistle, the whole party, the two Gascons following behind the one who appeared to be the chief, the man who had called to them to surrender, walked swiftly through the forest toward the stream where lay the bodies of the braves who had fallen before D’Albret’s musket. The Chickasaws regarded the two men with hostility not unmixed with interest and, as they left the stream behind them and plunged deeper into the forest, they re- marked together in quiet tones upon the peculiar physiognomy of the sensitive Ros- signol, who could not misinterpret their cu- rious glances. Neither of the two whites betrayed the slightest fear of their captors and they walked together through the tangled forest, the angry Rossignol sullen and resentful of the interest his mutilated face was causing among the Chickasaws; D’Albret, head thrown back, stepped along with a jaunty air which belied the ache in his heart which had returned with redoubled vigor. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. The day was hot and the way long. The tireless savages did not appear to be dis- commoded by the heat or the relentless pace set by their leader, but the French- men were hard put to keep their feet as they accompanied their sure-footed hosts. Had their arms been unbound and they had been allowed to move freely—and enabled to drive away the numerous insect pests which tormented them—their discomfort would not have been half so great. Finally, when the party of Indians stopped to refresh themselves at one of the numerous streams which flowed through that flat country, D’Albret asked the chief to unbind his arms and those of his companion. The Indian shook his head. “If ye were to escape,” he said, “‘ Pokas- set would be laughed to scorn and he would lose the rich gifts that have been promised him for your capture.” D’Albret looked at him in surprise. ‘** Who is so interested in our capture,” he asked, ‘“ that they would willingly give a reward to see us taken prisoners?” Pokasset smiled shrewdly. “If I were to tell you,” he replied slyly, “you would know.” “But,” persisted the Gascon, “ how did you know that we had left the fort? I did not make up my mind to leave until the last moment.”’ ‘“‘ My warriors were coming down to the sea to spy upon the settlement when a wounded brave, who had been shot in the arm, encountered us. He was exhausted with running and loss of blood, but I learned from him that two Frenchmen were pursuing him and that the White Chief had sent him to slay one and capture the other and that a handsome reward would be paid the warriors who captured the one he de- sired.” D’Albret knit his brows. “Where is the man I wounded?” he asked. ‘“‘He went ahead of us to the camp to have his hurt dressed while we lay in wait above the fork of the stream to capture you. He will confront you presently.” ‘And the White Chief,” persisted D’Al- bret. ‘‘ Who is he?” : The Indian did not answer him, although GOMIIGIOO S CO) nn