“Ah, White Bird! Fall-leaf here! Fall-leaf save!”
“Is it indeed my friend Fall-leaf?” cried Miss Hayward, joyfully.
“Where is William Nettleton?” asked Mamie.
“Ah! then I have only _you_ to encounter,” yelled Walker, “and, if the Fates favor me, I shall triumph. I know the Indian has not thought to provide himself with provisions. I have enough to last us, with care, for two weeks, and by that time he will starve, for no Federal fool ever will find me _here_. He dare not leave in search of help, for I should then effect my escape. So we will play our hands, and see if I do not hold the trump card. Ha! ha! I can baffle any friend you have, Miss Hayward.”
“Yes, I will sing. And as we are now near the main road, some one will be sure to hear me.”
During the entire passage Miss Hayward had not failed to sing her echo-song every few miles, hoping to attract attention and gain assistance. Now that she was so near the public highway, she applied herself anew to the task. Walker made frequent attempts to silence her, but could not do it, as he feared, whenever he turned from his watch, that the Indian would dart in upon him.
Some two years previous, there was a superstitious belief prevailing in that section of Missouri, that the spirit of a murdered lady appeared upon the waters of the Gasconade, singing her mournful lays, and gliding in her death-skiff along the waters. For some time past nothing had been heard of the “lady-ghost;” but, when the songs of Miss Hayward were heard, the simple inhabitants began to think that the “ghost-lady” had returned, and, instead of seeking to gratify their curiosity, were careful to keep as far as possible away. So it proved with regard to the cave, after the singing commenced.
Several days passed, and no succor appeared. The Indian kept faithful watch, and so did Walker, that he might not be taken by surprise.
Walker becoming convinced that Fall-leaf had no gun, several times endeavored to bring his own to bear upon his vigilant foe, but this he could not do without placing himself in a dangerous position. Both were weary for want of sleep, and both would occasionally sink into a fitful slumber; but, so intent was each upon his object, that the slightest movement would rouse the sleepers, and each stand ready to meet his foe. But, as Fall-leaf had no food, he began to grow faint—his firm frame began visibly to weaken; still, he determined to maintain his watch as long as life should last.