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<SPAN name="chap87"></SPAN> <h3>Chapter Eighty Seven.</h3> <h4>Suspicious Appearances.</h4> <p>The Indians came crowding around the corpse—both warriors and women. Their exclamations betokened no sympathy. Even the squaws looked on with unpitying aspect—though the victim was of their own race and sex. They knew she had been allied with their enemies; and had been witnesses of her savage assault upon <i>Maranee</i>, though ignorant of its motive. Some of them who had lost kindred in the strife, already stirred by grief and fury, were proceeding to insult the lifeless and mutilated remains—to mutilate them still more! I turned away from the loathsome scene. Neither the dead nor the living, that composed this ghastly tableau, had further interest for me.</p> <p>My glance, wandering in search of other forms, first fell upon that of Wingrove. He was standing near, in an attitude that betokened extreme prostration of spirit. His head hung forward over his breast; but his eyes were not directed to the ground: they were turned upward, gazing after a form that was passing away. It was that of the huntress. The girl had regained her horse; and was riding off, followed by the dog. She went slowly—as if irresolute both as to the act and the direction. In both, the horse appeared to have his will: the reins rested loosely upon his withers; while his rider seemed wrapped in a silent abstraction. I was hastening towards my Arab, with the design of joining her, when I saw that I was anticipated. Another had conceived a similar intention. It was Wa-ka-ra.</p> <p>The young chief, still on horseback, was seen spurring out from the midst of his men, and guiding his war-steed in the direction taken by the huntress. Before I could lay hands upon my bridle, he had galloped up to Marian, and falling into a gentler pace, rode on by her side. I did not attempt to follow them. Somewhat chagrined at having my designs interrupted, I gave up the intention of mounting my horse, and turned back towards Wingrove. As soon as I was near enough to read the expression upon his features, I saw that my chagrin was more than shared by him. An emotion of most rancorous bitterness was burning in the breast of the young backwoodsman. His glance was fixed upon the two forms—slowly receding across the plain. He was regarding every movement of both with that keen concentrated gaze, which jealousy alone can give.</p> <p>“Nonsense, Wingrove!” said I, reading the thoughts of his heart. “Don’t let that trouble you: there’s nothing between them, I can assure you.”</p> <p>Certainly the spectacle was enough to excite the suspicions of a less jealous lover—if not to justify them. Both the equestrians had halted at a distant part of the plain. They were not so distant, but that their attitudes could be observed. They still remained on horseback; but the horses were side by side, and so near each other, that the bodies of their riders appeared almost touching. The head of the chief was bent forward and downward; while his hand appeared extended outward, as if holding that of the huntress! It was a fearful tableau for a lover to contemplate—even at a distance; and the white lips, clenched teeth, and quick irregular beating of Wingrove’s heart—perfectly audible to me as I stood beside him—told with what terrible emotions the sight was inspiring him. I was myself puzzled at the attitude of the Utah chief—as well as the silent complaisance with which his attentions appeared to be received. It certainly had the seeming of gallantry—though I was loth to believe in its reality. In truth I could not give credence to such a thought. It was not human nature—not even woman’s—to play false in such <i>sans façon</i>. The appearance must certainly be a deception?</p> <p>I was endeavouring to conjecture an explanation, when a moving object attracted my attention. It was a horseman who appeared upon the plain, beyond where the huntress and the chief had halted. To our eyes, he was nearly in a line with them—approaching down the valley from the upper cañon—out of which he had evidently issued. He was still at a considerable distance from the other two; but it could be seen that he was coming on at full gallop and straight towards them. In a few moments, he would be up to where they stood. I watched this horseman with interest. I was in hopes he would keep on his course, and interrupt the scene that was annoying myself, and torturing my companion. I was not disappointed in the hope. The hurrying horseman rode straight on; and, having arrived within a few paces of the ground occupied by the others, drew his horse to a halt. At the same instant, the Utah chief was seen to separate from his companion; and riding up to the stranger, appeared to enter into conversation with him.</p> <p>After some minutes had elapsed, the chief faced round to the huntress; and, apparently giving utterance to some parting speech, headed his horse toward the butte, and along with the stranger, came galloping downward. The huntress kept her place; but I saw her dismount, and stoop down towards the dog, as if caressing him. I resolved to seize the opportunity of speaking with her alone; and, bidding Wingrove wait for my return, I once more hastened to lay hold of my horse. Perhaps I should encounter the chief on the way? Perhaps he might not exactly like the proceeding? But Marian must be communicated with upon something besides matters of love; and my honest intention rendered me less timid about any idle construction the savage might please to put upon my conduct. Thus fortified, I leaped to the back of my steed, and hurried off upon my errand.</p> <hr /></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />

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