"No!" he cried, and his voice rang up clear through the din. "You are fools! You are like little partridges trying to frighten the hunter. The Great White Mother has soldiers like the leaves of the trees. I know, for I have seen them. Do not listen to this man!" pointing to Little Thunder. "Anger has made him mad. The Police with their big guns will blow you to pieces like this." He seized a bunch of dead leaves, ground them in his hands and puffed the fragments in their faces.
The half-breed and Little Thunder were beside themselves with rage.
Long and loud they harangued the group about them. Only a little of their meaning could the Inspector gather, but enough to let him know that they were looking down upon a group of conspirators and that plans for a widespread rebellion were being laid before them.
Through the harangues of Little Thunder and Louis the half-breed Raven stood calmly regarding them, his hands on his hips. He knew well, as did the men watching from above, that all that stood between him and death were those same two hands and the revolvers in his belt, whose butts were snugly nosing up to his fingers.
Little Thunder had too often seen those fingers close and do their deadly work while an eyelid might wink to venture any hasty move.
"Is that all?" said Raven at last.
Little Thunder made one final appeal, working himself up into a fine frenzy of passion. Then Raven made reply.
"Listen to me!" he said. "It is all folly, mad folly! And besides," and here his voice rang out like a trumpet, "I am for the Queen, God bless her!" His figure straightened up, his hands dropped on the butts of his guns.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Cameron. "Isn't that great?"
"Very fine, indeed," said the Inspector softly. Both men's guns were lined upon the conspirators.
Then the half-breed spoke, shrugging his shoulders in contempt.
"Let heem go. Bah! No good." He spat upon the ground.
Raven stood as he was for a few moments, smiling.
"Good-bye, all," he said. "Bon jour, Louis. Let no man move! Let no man move! I never need to shoot at a man twice. Little Thunder knows. And don't follow!" he added. "I shall be waiting behind the rocks."
He slowly backed away from the group, turned in behind a sheltering rock, then swiftly began to climb the rocky sides of the canyon.
The moment he was out of sight Little Thunder dodged in behind the ledges, found his rifle, and, making a wide detour, began to climb the side of the ravine at an angle which would cut off Raven's retreat. All this took place in full view of the two watchers above.
"Let's get that devil," said the Inspector. But Cameron was already gone. Swiftly along the lip of the canyon Cameron ran and worked his way down the side till he stood just over the sloping ledge upon which the Indian was crouched and waiting. Along this lodge came the unconscious Raven, softly whistling to himself his favourite air, "Three cheers for the red, white and blue."
There was no way of warning him. Three steps more and he would be within range. The Inspector raised his gun and drew a bead upon the crouching Indian.
"Wait!" whispered Cameron. "Don't shoot. It will bring them all down on us." Gathering himself together as he spoke, he vaulted clear over the edge of the rock and dropped fair upon the shoulders of the Indian below, knocking the breath completely out of him and bearing him flat to the rock. Like a flash Cameron's hand was on the Indian's throat so that he could make no outcry. A moment later Raven came in view. Swifter than light his guns were before his face and levelled at Cameron.
"Don't shoot!" said the Inspector quietly from above. "I have you covered."
Perilous as the situation was, Cameron was conscious only of the humourous side of it and burst into a laugh.
"Come here, Raven," he said, "and help me to tie up this fellow."
Slowly Raven moved forward.
"Why, by all the gods! If it isn't our long-lost friend, Cameron," he said softly, putting up his guns. "All right, old man," he added, nodding up at the Inspector. "Now, what's all this? What?
Little Thunder? So! Then I fancy I owe my life to you, Cameron."
Cameron pointed to Little Thunder's gun. Raven stood looking down upon the Indian, who was recovering his wind and his senses. His face suddenly darkened.
"You treacherous dog! Well, we are now nearly quits. Once you saved my life, now you would have taken it."
Meantime Cameron had handcuffed Little Thunder.
"Up!" he said, prodding him with his revolver. "And not a sound!"
Keeping within cover of the bushes, they scrambled up the ravine side. As they reached the top the Indian with a mighty wrench tore himself from Cameron's grip and plunged into the thicket. Before he had taken a second step, however, the Inspector was upon him like a tiger and bore him to the ground.
"Will you go quietly," said the Inspector, "or must we knock you on the head?" He raised his pistol over the Indian as he spoke.
"I go," grunted the Indian solemnly.
"Come, then," said the Inspector, "we'll give you one chance more.
Where's your friend?" he added, looking about him. But Raven was gone.
"I am just as glad," said Cameron, remembering Raven's declaration of allegiance a few moments before. "He wasn't too bad a chap after all. We have this devil anyhow."
"Quick, now," said the Inspector. "We have not a moment to lose.
This is an important capture. How the deuce we are to get him to the Fort I don't know."
Through the bushes they hurried their prisoner, threatening him with their guns. When they came to their horses they were amazed to find Little Thunder's pony beside their own and on the Inspector's saddle a slip of paper upon which in the fading light they found inscribed "One good turn deserves another. With Mr. Raven's compliments."
"By Jove, he's a trump!" said the Inspector. "I'd like to get him, but all the same--"
And so they rode off to the Fort.
