He was wholly absorbed in thought. So the sun got higher and higher, and still he waited and watched--waited and hoped.

Only, ever and anon he would place his ear against the hard ground and listen intently.

'Twas noon, and they came not.

Something must have happened. Everything must have failed.

What should he do? What could he do?

But hark! A joyful sound. It was that of a horse at the gallop, and it was coming nearer and nearer.

Benee grasped his rifle.

It must be she. It must, and was poor Peggy, and Weenah was seated behind her.

He looked quickly to his repeating rifle, and patted the revolvers in his belt.

"Oh, Benee, Benee! how rejoiced I am!"

"But are you followed, Missie Peggy?"

"No, no, Benee, we have ridden clean and clear away from the savage chief Kaloomah, and we fear no pursuit."

"Ah, Missie! You not know de savage man. I do. Come. Make track now.

"Weenah," he added. "Oh, my love, Weenah! But come not down. We mus'

fly foh de cannibal come in force."

It seemed but child's play to Benee to trot lightly along beside the pony.

Love, no doubt, made the labour lighter. Besides, on faithful little Dixie's back was all that Benee cared much for in the world, Weenah and "Missie Peggy".

True enough, he liked and respected Roland, and d.i.c.k as well, but they were not all the world to him as these girls were. And ever since he had found Roland and Peggy in the dark forest and rescued them, his little mistress had been in his eyes an angel. Never an unkind word was it possible for her to say to anyone, least of all--so he flattered himself--to Benee.

The poor, untutored savage felt, in his happiness, at this moment, that it would be sweet to die were the loved ones only near to hold his hand.

But he could die, too, fighting for them; ay, fighting to the end. Who was he that would dare touch the ground where Peggy or Weenah trod if he--Benee--were there?

And so they journeyed on and on by the river's side and through jungle and forest, never dreaming of danger or pursuit.

Ah! but wild as a panther was Kaloomah now.

When he found that he was baffled, befooled, deserted, then all his fury--the fury of an untamed savage--boiled up from the bottom of his heart.

Love! Where was love now? It found no place in this wild chief's heart; hate had supplanted it, and it was a hate that must be quenched in blood. Yes, her blood! He would be revenged, and then--well then, the sooner he should die after that the better. For his life's sun had gone out, his days could only be days of darkness now.

Yet how happy had he been only this morning, and how proud when he stalked forth from his hut and pa.s.sed that of Kalamazoo, still wearing the wild flowers with which she had adorned him!

He tore those wild flowers from his neck now, and scattered them to the winds.

Then, as fast and fleet as ever savage ran, he hied him back to the palace.

Few had more stentorian lungs than Kaloomah!

"The queen has gone! The white queen has fled!"

That shout awakened one thousand armed men to action, and in less than an hour they were on the warpath.

CHAPTER XXVII--THE FIGHT AT THE FORT

So toilsome was the road to trace, and so far away was the fortified camp of our heroes, that the sun was almost setting before Benee arrived with his precious charge.

Why should I make any attempt to describe the meeting of Roland and d.i.c.k with the long-lost Peggy?

Roland and she had always been as brother and sister, and now that they were once more united, all her joy found vent in a flood of tears, which her brother did what he could to stem.

It seemed hardly possible that she should be here safe and sound, and in the presence of those who loved her so well and dearly.

And here, too, was Brawn, who was delirious with joy, and honest Bill with his meerschaum.

"Oh, surely I shall not awake and find it all a dream!" she cried in terror. "Awake and find myself still in that awful palace, with its dreadful surroundings and the odour of death everywhere! Oh--h!"

The girl shuddered.

"Dear Peggy," said d.i.c.k tenderly, "this is no dream; you are with us again, and we with you. All the past is as nothing. Let us live for the future. Is that right, Roland?"

"Yes, you must forget the past, Peggy," said Roland. "d.i.c.k is right.

The past shall be buried. We are young yet. The world is all before us. So come, laugh, and be happy, Peggy."

"And this charming child here, who is she?" said d.i.c.k. He alluded to Weenah.

"That is little Weenah, a daughter of the wilds, a child of the desert.

Nay, but no child after all, are you, Weenah?"

Weenah bent her dark eyes on the ground.

"I am nothing," she said. "I am n.o.body, only--Benee's."

"But, Weenah," said Peggy, taking the girl by the hand, "oh, how I shall miss you when you go!"

"Go?" said Weenah wonderingly.