e Lightheart, easily understanding her friend's motives, crept
in a serpentine fashion to the hillock, where she soon found Whitewing--
to the intense but unexpressed joy of that valiant red man.

"Will Leetil Tim go back with Lightheart to the horses and wait, while
his brother remains here?" said the young chief.

"No, Little Tim _won't_," growled the trapper, in a tone of decision
that surprised his red friend. "Brighteyes is in the Blackfoot camp,"
he continued, in growling explanation.

"True," returned the Indian, "but Brighteyes will escape; and even if
she fails to do so now, she will be rescued with the others at last."

"She will be rescued with _us_, just _now_," returned Little Tim in a
tone so emphatic that his friend looked at him with an expression of
surprise that was unusually strong for a redskin warrior. Suddenly a
gleam of intelligence broke from his black eyes, and with the soft
exclamation, "Wah!" he sank flat on the grass again, and remained
perfectly still.

Brighteyes found that it was not all plain sailing when she had mingled
with her friends in the camp. In the first place, the missionary
refused absolutely to quit the captives. He would remain with them, he
said, and await God's will and leading. In the second place, no third
person had been mentioned by her brother, whose chief anxiety had been
for his bride and the white man, and it did not seem to Brighteyes
creditable to quit the camp after all her risk and trouble without some
trophy of her prowess. In this dilemma she put to herself the question,
"Whom would Lightheart wish me to rescue?"

Now, there were two girls among the captives, one of whom was a bosom
friend of Lightheart; the other was a younger sister. To these
Brighteyes went, and straightway ordered them to prepare for flight.
They were of course quite ready to obey. All the preparation needed was
to discard the blankets which Indian women are accustomed to wear as
convenient cloaks by day. Thus unhampered, the two girls wandered about
the camp, as several of the others had occasionally been doing.
Separating from each other, they got into the outskirts in different
directions. Meanwhile a hymn had been raised, which facilitated their
plans by attracting the attention of the savage warriors. High above
the rest, in one prolonged note, the voice of Brighteyes rang out like a
silver flute.

"There's the signal," said Little Tim, as the sweet note fell on his