War Drums (Sass)/Chapter 34
THAT day passed much as their other days on Sani'gilagi had passed. Yet for two of them it was such a day as had never been seen before. For Jolie Stanwicke and Lachlan McDonald the world that they had known had been blotted out and a new world had begun. From the valley below, as they sat together near the edge of the cliff, the faint insistent throbbing of the war drums floated upward on the evening air; but if they heard the sound and remembered for a brief moment the peril that surrounded them, that peril mattered little.
Only once Jolie spoke of Gilbert Barradell; and it was then that Lachlan made known to her what Almayne had learned from Aganuntsi the Conjurer.
She listened calmly while Lachlan told her of Barradell's marriage to Concha's daughter. Then she kissed him and held his face between her hands and smiled into his eyes.
"I am glad that Gilbert is happy," she said, and sat for some minutes in silence, her head against Lachlan's shoulder.
Presently she laughed aloud. "Do you remember," she asked, "how I quizzed you about this Indian girl, this daughter of Chief Concha, and how I hoped that she was ugly? You did not guess what was in my mind?"
"I guessed it later," he answered.
"I think," she continued, smiling, "that even then I knew that Gilbert was as false as I have been—that even then I doubted him."
Her eyes softened suddenly.
"Listen!" she whispered. "A sanguilla, but it sings a different song."
"It is a mountain sanguilla," Lachlan told her, "a brighter, more beautiful bird, and one not often seen."
She listened to the bird, her eyes soft and thoughtful.
"Have you forgotten," she asked him, "the name you gave me—the Lady Sanguilla? Almayne told me. I have never heard you call me that, and I should like to hear it now."
He whispered the name in her ear. She nodded and said no more. A few minutes later she was asleep, her head pillowed on his shoulder. He laid her gently on the moss, looked for a long while at her face with the long silken lashes veiling the closed eyes, brushed the red-gold hair back from the smooth forehead. Then he joined Almayne and O'Sullivan.
It was at deep dusk of the second day after this that Aganuntsi the Conjurer came again.
They had finished the evening meal and were sitting around the little fire in front of Jolie's lean-to. The moon had not yet risen and only a few stars sparkled in the sky
Suddenly, straight in front of her, Jolie saw two points of light. For an instant she believed that they were twin stars low against the horizon; but, as she watched them, they moved, and they were not white or yellow but pale yellow-green. She knew then that they were the eyes of a wild beast moving along the edge of the cliff, directly in front and not fifty yards away; and in the same instant she discerned dimly the outlines of a huge cat-like shape behind the eyes.
She whispered a warning to the others. They needed no warning. Lachlan and O'Sullivan had already seen the beast; Almayne and the two Muskogee warriors, sitting at the other side of the fire, had turned their heads cautiously and were searching the gloom. Little Mink was reaching for the bow that lay on the rock near him, when Almayne spoke.
"It is the tame panther," he whispered. "Aganuntsi is coming."
The words were scarcely spoken when the darkness took shape and the Conjurer stood before them.
Almayne rose and stood facing him. Neither uttered a sound. Aganuntsi turned and strode away into the night, and without a word Almayne followed him.
The twin stars that were the panther's eyes were motionless now. The beast had lain down near the edge of the precipice and there it waited, its yellow-green orbs glowing in the fitful light. Jolie could hear the low murmur of Aganuntsi's voice, could distinguish his form and that of Almayne standing motionless near the entrance of the trail leading down the mountain side.
In the circle about the fire no one spoke; none dared ask aloud what this second visit of the Conjurer could mean.
Jolie shivered. That sense of crisis, of peril, which had been so strong in her upon the occasion of Aganuntsi's first visit, was stronger than ever now. With a strange fascination her eyes remained fixed upon the yellow-green orbs in front of her; and suddenly, as she watched them, they vanished.
Moving her head slightly, she saw Almayne returning. A steely light glittered in his deep-set eyes; his thin, tanned face was like that of a hunting hawk. His eyes rested on Jolie and his lips tightened.
"Aganuntsi came to warn us," he said slowly. "An Appalache scout wandered up the mountain this morning and saw us. They are coming to-night to take us. We must try for Fort Prince George."
There was a silence. Then Lachlan asked quietly:
"What think you, Almayne, of our chance of reaching the Fort?"
"A slim chance," the hunter growled, "one chance in five."
Mr. O'Sullivan leaped to his feet and there was a smile upon his lips.
"We are going to win through for your sakes, Jolie and Lachlan," he told them. "And I think there will be a minister at Fort Prince George."