THE SIOUX CAPTIVE.

When Jennie Woodbridge, who was flying along by the side of Red Hatchet, her Sioux captor, saw the arrangements made to ambush Kit Carey and his small band in pursuit of the hostiles, her heart sank within her with dread.

She felt more for the officer just then than she did for herself, and so asked the Sioux chief if his gratitude toward the white captain, for releasing him as he had done, would not cause him to spare the man who had treated him well.

But Red Hatchet had no mercy in his composition, and, in spite of "fairy tales" to the contrary of the Indian, from the "Last of the Mohicans" to the Apaches, had very little gratitude in his make-up.

So on sped the fair captive with her two guards, while Red Hatchet remained in the ravine to wipe out his pursuers in one well-directed volley.

That Kit Carey foiled him in this has been seen, and as the chief supposed that the officer and his men had gone into camp among the rocks to make a stand there, he determined upon capturing him at night.

He called his braves about him, twenty-eight in number, and told them that they were two to one against those among the rocks, and by slipping up, under cover of the darkness, and making a dash upon the little band, they would have it all their own way.

A few would fall, but the survivors would avenge them, and the harvest of scalps would more than compensate for the loss of half a dozen or so.

As no brave knew that he would be upon the death list, and all were hungry for scalps, they chimed in with their chief's humor, and prepared to take the position by stealth, and then hold it by force of arms, as soon as darkness permitted them to do so.

From his position, commanding that of Kit Carey's camp, Red Hatchet selected the points of attack, and told off his warriors for the various advances, so that all understood the exact situation.

Then they waited until nightfall, and made no move until an hour after darkness fell.

Then the order was given to leave their ponies in the ravine, and advance on foot in squads of four and five.

The chief led four men, and his was the most direct advance, the others going out on either side and flanking, one party coming up from the rear of the camp in the rocks.

As noiseless as serpents they crept on, for they felt that they had men to deal with fully alive to all their cunning devices.

At last the chief and his party were within a few feet of the camp, and yet no alarm had come, no arrow or shot.

Red Hatchet felt now that he had his foes in his power, and feeling that the other squads of braves must have reached position, he suddenly arose and bounded toward the rocks.

As he did so there came wild yells and shouts, and then a terrific howl of rage, disappointment, and alarm commingled.

The enemy was not there, and the chief's squad had sprung upon a party of his own braves, and ere the mistake was known, for each had noiselessly gained the position, two warriors had been slain and a couple more wounded.

All the venom in his nature was aroused in Red Hatchet by this fatal mistake, through the silent retreat of his foes, and, of course, the white captain was set down as the cause of the death and wounding of the Sioux.

Of course, there was but one thing to be done under the circumstances, and that was to continue on to the camp of the hostiles with their dead and wounded, and await an opportunity to get even with their enemy.

Having started his braves on the retreat, Red Hatchet made his way to the rendezvous which he had appointed with the two guards of Jennie Woodbridge.

They and their captive had heard the few shots and yells, and wondered at the quick cessation of what they supposed was the attack.

Jennie had been glad to feel that Kit Carey had been too wary to run into the ambush, for had he done so they would have heard the firing.

Then there was a wait until after nightfall, when came the shots and yells, to end as quickly as they had begun.

The young girl had picked up considerable of the Sioux language during her life on the frontier and the talk of her two guards she understood pretty well, was sure that they were in some alarm as to what had occurred.

Then there came two horsemen through the gloom, a word in a low tone, and the two Sioux met their chief.

He was in a humor that was fiendish, and Jennie heard him explain the situation in a few words, and glad was her heart, though she showed no sign of understanding what had been said, as she asked in an innocent way:

"Where is the scalp of the white captain, which the Red Hatchet was to show me?"

"It hangs at the belt of the Red Hatchet. The Snow Flower will never see the white captain again," was the response.

Jennie made no reply, and placing himself by her side the Red Hatchet took her bridle rein and led on toward the retreat in the Bad Lands.

Jennie noted all as she went along, and saw how well chosen the position of the hostiles was to resist attack.

But the chief went on at a rapid pace, ascended to the plateau, where the camps of the hostiles came in view, and going to a large tepee apart from the others called out to an aged Indian squaw as he rode up:

"The mother of the Red Hatchet will care for the Snow Flower, who is the friend of our people."

And thus poor Jennie found herself a captive in the hostiles' retreat.