Part 22 (1/2)
”Here, Rhoda! Here!”
Kut-le bounded into the room, upsetting the medicine-man, and lifted Rhoda in his arms. She clung to him wildly.
”Take me away, Kut-le! Take me away!”
He soothed her with great tenderness.
”Dear one!” he murmured. ”Dear one!” and she closed her eyes quietly.
During this time the Indians sat silent and watchful. Kut-le turned to Alchise.
”You cursed fool!” he said.
”She get well now,” replied Alchise anxiously. ”Alchise save her for you. Molly tell you where come.”
For a moment Kut-le stared at Alchise; then, as if realizing the futility of speech, ”Come!” he said, and ignoring the other Indians, he strode from the _campos_. Alchise and Cesca followed him, and outside the anxious Molly seized Rhoda's limp hand with a little cry of joy.
Kut-le led the way to a quiet spot among the pines. Here he laid Rhoda on a sheepskin and covered her with a tattered blanket, the spoils of his previous night's trip.
About the middle of the morning Rhoda opened her eyes. As she stirred, Kut-le came to her.
”I've had such horrible dreams, Kut-le. You won't go and leave me to the Indians again?”
This appeal from Rhoda in her weakness almost overcame Kut-le but he only smoothed her tangled hair and answered:
”No, dear one!”
”Where are we now?” she asked feebly.
Kut-le smiled.
”In the Rockies.”
”I think I am very sick,” continued Rhoda. ”Do you think we can stay quiet in one place today?”
Kut-le shook his head.
”I am going to get you to some quinine as quick as I can. There is some about twenty-four hours from here.”
Rhoda's eyes widened.
”Shall I be with white people?”
”Don't bother. You'll have good care.”
The light faded from Rhoda's eyes.
”It's hard for me, isn't it?” she said, as if appealing to the college man of the ranch.
”Rhoda! Rhoda!” whispered Kut-le, ”your suffering kills me! But I must have you, I must!”
Rhoda moved her head impatiently, as if the Indian's tense, handsome face annoyed her. She refused food but drank deeply of the tepid water and shortly they were again on the trail.