Chapter 21

Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
--Shakspeare.

Mahtoree had scarcely given the first intimation of his real design,
before a general discharge from the borderers proved how well they
understood it. The distance, and the rapidity of the flight, however,
rendered the fire harmless. As a proof how little he regarded the
hostility of their party, the Dahcotah chieftain answered the report
with a yell; and, flourishing his carabine above his head, he made a
circuit on the plain, followed by his chosen warriors, in scorn of the
impotent attempt of his enemies. As the main body continued the direct
course, this little band of the elite, in returning from its wild
exhibition of savage contempt, took its place in the rear, with a
dexterity and a concert of action that showed the manoeuvre had been
contemplated.

Volley swiftly succeeded volley, until the enraged squatter was
reluctantly compelled to abandon the idea of injuring his enemies by
means so feeble. Relinquishing his fruitless attempt, he commenced a
rapid pursuit, occasionally discharging a rifle in order to give the
alarm to the garrison, which he had prudently left under the command
of the redoubtable Esther herself. In this manner the chase was
continued for many minutes, the horsemen gradually gaining on their
pursuers, who maintained the race, however, with an incredible power
of foot.

As the little speck of blue rose against the heavens, like an island
issuing from the deep, the savages occasionally raised a yell of
triumph. But the mists of evening were already gathering along the
whole of the eastern margin of the prairie, and before the band had
made half of the necessary distance, the dim outline of the rock had
melted into the haze of the back ground. Indifferent to this
circumstance, which rather favoured than disconcerted his plans,
Mahtoree, who had again ridden in front, held on his course with the
accuracy of a hound of the truest scent, merely slackening his speed a
little, as the horses of his party were by this time thoroughly blown.
It was at this stage of the enterprise, that the old man rode up to
the side of Middleton, and addressed him as follows in English--

"Here is likely to be a thieving business, and one in which I must say
I have but little wish to be a partner."

"What would you do? It would be fatal to trust ourselves in the hands
of the miscreants in our rear."

"Tut, for miscreants, be they red or be they white. Look ahead, lad,
as if ye were talking of our medicines, or perhaps praising the Teton
beasts. For the knaves love to hear their horses commended, the same
as a foolish mother in the settlements is fond of hearing the praises
of her