Page:Hugh Pendexter--Kings of the Missouri.djvu/253

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IN THE MEDICINE LODGE
233

—I marry a Blackfoot woman. But I remember I am half white.

"Yes, it is much better for you to die fighting, m'sieu. The white blood in me says I must give you that chance."

"Then in God's mercy cut these cords," panted Lander, beginning a useless struggle.

"What would you have? Death now? Wait a bit. I must leave the medicine-tent and go to the fire and show myself and then go to my lodge. They will think I have turned in for the night.

"Then I will come back and reach from under the flap of the tent and cut your arms free. I can not reach your legs, but you say you have a knife. Use it, and make for the hole through the hills. I fear you will not get far, but knowing what I know, you will have much to thank Baptiste Gardepied for when you go down fighting."

"Do not fail me," mumbled Lander.

The breed no longer talked and Lander knew the medicine-lodge was empty. He closed his eyes and fell to thinking of Susette. Then came thoughts of Papa Clair, his friend; of Jim Bridger, generous and kind.