Читать книгу Buffalo Bill, the Border King; Or, Redskin and Cowboy онлайн
62 страница из 86
Then he thought of the Border King flying along the trail to Resistence for help, and he regained his courage.
Awaiting with the stolid patience of a redskin for the night to deepen, the scout finally pursued his march into the valley. He had carefully weighed all chances for and against his success. Now he was ready to take them.
Night spread its wings over the valley. It hid its scars and wounds and the stark bodies of the dead, lying under the fortress walls. In the gloaming it might have been the most peaceful valley in all the Rockies. One coming upon it suddenly, and unwarned, would never have suspected the blood so recently spilled there and the threatening aspect of the situation at that very moment!
Texas Jack stole down the declivity with a step as light as the fall of a leaf. The savage whom he imitated could have moved no more lightly, and as he came into the valley itself he crouched and crept along like a shadow.
He knew that the red men would be moving about, passing and repassing each other, and keeping up a tightening circle about the fort. They would afford the opportunity for no other white man to escape from the fort if they could help it. But they moved about as silently as the scout himself, and as the redskin is notoriously silent, Texas Jack’s ears were of little good to him in this emergency.