snow on his face, and at night he saw
the loom of lofty peaks. But they did not treat him unkindly. Old
Inmutanka threw a heavy fur robe over his shoulders, and when they
camped they always built big fires, before which he slept, wrapped in
blankets like the others.

Heraka said but little. Will heard him now and then giving a brief order
to the warriors, but he scarcely ever spoke to the lad directly. Once in
their mountain camp when the night was clear Will saw a vast panorama of
ridges and peaks white with snow, and he realized with a sudden and
overwhelming sinking of the heart that he was in very truth and fact
lost to his world, and as the Sioux chief had threatened, he might never
again look upon a white face save his own. It was a terrifying thought.
Sometimes when he awoke in the night the cold chill that he felt was not
from the air. His arms were always bound when he lay down between the
blankets and, once or twice, he tried to pull them free, but he knew
while he was making it that the effort was vain and, even were it
successful and the thongs were loosened, he could not escape.

At the end of about a week they descended rapidly. The air grew warmer,
the snow flurries no longer struck him in the face and the odors of
forest, heavy and green, came to his nostrils. One morning they did not
put the bandage upon his face and he looked forth upon a wild world of
hills and woods and knew it not, nor did he know what barrier of time
and space shut him from his own people.

CHAPTER XII

THE CAPTIVE'S RISE

Will did not know just how long they had been traveling, having lost
count of the days, but he knew they had come an immense distance,
perhaps a thousand miles, maybe more, because the hardy Indian ponies
always went at a good pace, and he felt that the distance between him
and every white settlement must be vast.

The sun at first hurt the eyes that had been bandaged so long in
daylight, but as the optic nerves grew less sensitive and they could
take in all the splendor of the world, he had never before seen it so
beautiful. He was like one really and truly blind for years who had
suddenly recovered his sight. Everything was magnified, made more vivid,
more intense, and his joy, captive though he was, was so keen that he
could not keep from showing it.

"You find it pleasant to live," said Heraka.

"Yes," replied the lad frankly, "I don't mind admitting to you that I
like living. And I like se