Chapter XII. In the Sun Dance Canyon

But they were not yet done with Smith, for as they turned to pass into the house a series of shrill cries from the bluff behind pierced the stillness of the night.

"Help! Help! Murder! Help! I've got him! Help! I've got him!"

Shaking off the clutching hands of his wife and sister, Cameron darted into the bluff and found two figures frantically struggling upon the ground. The moonlight trickling through the branches revealed the man on top to be an Indian with a knife in his hand, but he was held in such close embrace that he could not strike.

"Hold up!" cried Cameron, seizing the Indian by the wrist. "Stop that! Let him go!" he cried to the man below. "I've got him safe enough. Let him go! Let him go, I tell you! Now, then, get up! Get up, both of you!"

The under man released his grip, allowed the Indian to rise and got himself to his feet.

"Come out into the light!" said Cameron sharply, leading the Indian out of the bluff, followed by the other, still panting. Here they were joined by the ladies. "Now, then, what the deuce is all this row?" inquired Cameron.

"Why, it's Mr. Smith!" cried Mandy.

"Smith again! More of Smith's work, eh? Well, this beats me," said her husband. For some moments Cameron stood surveying the group, the Indian silent and immobile as one of the poplar trees beside him, the ladies with faces white, Smith disheveled in garb, pale and panting and evidently under great excitement. Cameron burst into a loud laugh. Smith's pale face flushed a swift red, visible even in the moonlight, then grew pale again, his excited panting ceased as he became quiet.

"Now what is the row?" asked Cameron again. "What is it, Smith?"

"I found this Indian in the bush here and I seized him. I thought-- he might--do something."

"Do something?"

"Yes--some mischief--to some of you."

"What? You found this Indian in the bluff here and you just jumped on him? You might better have jumped on a wild cat. Are you used to this sort of thing? Do you know the ways of these people?"

"I never saw an Indian before."

"Good Heavens, man! He might have killed you. And he would have in two minutes more."

"He might have killed--some of you," said Smith.

Cameron laughed again.

"Now what were you doing in the bluff?" he said sharply, turning to the Indian.

"Chief Trotting Wolf," said the Indian in the low undertone common to his people, "Chief Trotting Wolf want you' squaw--boy seeck bad-- leg beeg beeg. Boy go die. Come." He turned to Mandy and repeated "Come--queeek--queeek."

"Why didn't you come earlier?" said Cameron sharply. "It is too