me that they were successful in
intercepting and joining the war-party, which Bounding Bull, with his
friend and ally Little Tim, were leading by forced marches on the trail
of the Blackfeet.

Rushing River was well aware, however, that such a party would soon be
following him. He therefore had advanced likewise by forced marches,
because his object was not so much to meet his enemy as to secure his
bride. Only let him place her in the safe keeping of his mother with
the main body of his tribe, and he would then return on his steps with
pleasure, and give battle to his foe.

In this object he was successful. After several days' march he handed
over Moonlight and Skipping Rabbit to the care of an old woman, whose
countenance was suggestive of wrinkled leather, and whose expression was
not compatible with sweetness. It was evident to the captives that
Rushing River owed his manly bearing and his comparatively gentle
manners not to his mother but to the father, whose scalp, alas! hung
drying in the smoke of a foeman's wigwam.

During the forced march the Blackfoot chief had not once opened his lips
to the girl he loved. He simply rode by her side, partly perhaps to
prevent any sudden attempt at flight, and certainly to offer assistance
when difficulties presented themselves on their pathless journey through
the great wilderness. And on all such occasions he offered his aid with
such grave and dignified gentleness that poor Moonlight became more and
more impressed, though, to do her justice, she fought bravely against
her tendency to fall in love with her tribal foe.

On reaching home Rushing River, instead of leading his captive to his
own wigwam, conducted her, as we have said, to that of his mother.
Then, for the first time since the day of the capture, he addressed her
with a look of tenderness, which she had never before received except
from Little Tim, and, in a minor degree, from her brother.

"Moonlight," he said, "till my return you will be well cared for here by
my mother--the mother of Rushing River."

Having said this, he lifted the leathern door of the lodge and went out
instantly.

Moonlight had received a terrible shock. Turning quickly to the old
woman, she said--

"Was that Rushing River?"

"That," replied the old woman, with a look of magnificent pride, "is my
son, Rushing River--the brave whose name is known far and wide in the
mountains and on the plains; whose enemies tremble and grow