nodded with some patronage. He looked impressive, unshaken; yet the
moment before he had been terror-stricken. I saw that I did not
understand him, after all.

Having bound us, our captors raised a shout and shouldered us toward
the camp. A young brave capered before us, beating his breast and
singing. The braves by the fire took up the cry.

And so we were pushed into the circle of flaming light. The Indians
crowded to us, and pressed their oily, grinning faces so near that I
felt their breath. I stumbled over refuse, and dirt-crusted dogs
blocked my way. The mangled carcass of a deer lay on the ground, and
the stench of fresh blood mingled with the reek of the camp. Yet I saw
only one thing clearly. In the midst of it stood the woman and Singing
Arrow.

My relief caught at my throat, and the cry I gave was hoarse and
strangled. But the woman heard it. My first look had shown me not
only that she was unharmed, but that she was undaunted, that she stood
white-faced in all the grime, and held herself above it, a thing of
spirit that soil could not reach. Yet when she saw me, the cry that
came from her in answer changed her from an effigy to something so warm
and living that I forgot where I stood, and stopped my breath to hold
her gaze to mine, and drink the moment to the full. We stood with
captivity between us and torture at our elbow, but the woman looked
only at me, and her lips grew red and tremulous, and her breath came
fast. "You are safe. You are safe." I heard the words even among the
babel, and I pulled like a wild animal at my bonds to free myself and
reach her side.

But I was held fast, and while I struggled came a mighty cry from
behind me, "Mary! Mary! Mary!" Starling's Goliath frame pushed by
me, and his captors were hurled like pygmies to each side.

The woman was unprepared. She cried at sight of him with a deep
throaty terror that sent the blood to my brain. Starling would have
pressed himself to her, but she put out her unbound arms and fended him
away. And then he stood with his great height bowed and pleaded to
her. I had shrugged at the English for their hard reserve, but when I
heard this man I learned again that it is always the dammed torrent
that is to be feared. Even the Indians heard in silence.

The silence lasted. Never before nor since have I known savages to
take the background and let two whites play out a tragedy unchecked.
But now they formed a ring and