Prisoners of Chance

As by magic the uproar of the infuriated savages died away. Gazing up from where I lay, my eyes beheld every face turned outward, every eye fastened upon that distant wall of rock. Suddenly a strange cry arose, each throat giving utterance to the same sound as if in trained obedience to some recognized signal, and immediately every Indian lay prostrate, his face in the dust. Gazing toward the spot they had watched so intently, I could perceive how the rose tints of the early sun flecked the upper extremity of the precipitous rock with spots of color, checkers of red and gold, while just below its lofty crest, seemingly touching the deep blue of the morning sky, hardly more than dim specks against the dull background of gray rock, appeared several moving black figures, and I could distinguish a series of flashes as if they waved blazing torches in welcome to the King of Day.

"Sacre! 'tis an uncanny sight," muttered my companion uneasily. "Have yonder foul priests been given wings whereby they mount the very rock in their devil worship?"

"Hardly that," I returned tersely. "There will be a footpath leading to the spot either from above or below."

"True, perchance; yet 'tis not from above. Of that I am certain, as the crest of the rock overhangs; you may perceive the deep shadow of it even from here."

Before I could distinguish clearly the peculiarity pointed out, the woman chief came forth through the open entrance, appearing more fair and white of skin than ever in the clear light of the dawn. Scarcely glancing toward either the prostrate tribesmen or those distant signalling priests, she advanced directly toward where we lay helpless in our bonds. There was a flush upon her cheeks, a light of animation in her eyes, yet she stood looking down upon me much as she might have viewed an insensate stone.

"Señor," she said coldly, still speaking the Spanish tongue, "it did please my humor but now to play a small trick upon these innocent children of nature, knowing their faith and tribal customs. For the time being I won, and it is you who benefit. You, and these others, are for the present delivered from that torture to which you were condemned: the rising of yonder Sun has saved you; 'tis the law of the Natchez. Nay, thank me not," as I sought to express my words of gratitude. "I told you before it was not from any desire to show mercy, but for a purpose of my own. Yet if you would continue to profit through my strange whim--and surely I have seldom been thus swayed to action--then it will be well to give heed unto my words. I bid you proceed at once to that second hut yonder, nor dare venture forth again until I send. The children of the Sun bow now to the commands of their ancient faith, yet are of temper hard to control."