Читать книгу The Boy Miners; Or, The Enchanted Island, A Tale of the Yellowstone Country онлайн

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“Never mind about it now, Jim; I have a plan of my own.”

“What’s dat?”

“Let him go.”

“You don’t mean dat?”

“Yes, I do; although he is our enemy, and although his own people are barbarians, who are none too good to put us to the worst kind of torture, if they had us in their power; yet, we are Christians, and cannot do such a thing.”

“Dunno but what you are right; fetch out de feller.”

“Besides,” added Inwood, as he moved away, “it may change their feelings toward us. They know we have one of their number in our power, and, if we let him go unharmed, they will have less reason to look upon us as their enemies—this one at least will regard us as a friend.”

The decision made, it was carried out without delay. The Mohave was led from the cave, carefully along the passage toward the opening. He evidently believed he was being conducted to his doom; he was as sullen and stoical as his race generally are at such times. Jim had rolled the boulder back, so as to afford him free egress, and Inwood, first taking him by the arm, motioned for him to retire. The aborigine did not comprehend his meaning, when his captor turned his face toward the opening, and gave him a gentle shove. This was a hint which could not be misunderstood, and he darted out in a twinkling, and disappeared.