the fourth day, when she halted her horse.
"From here on you shall be blindfolded, major."
"And if I refuse?"
"I shall ride away and leave you. I do not have the patience to indulge you in this."
Kane nodded his head in grim acceptance, knowing she would do just what she threatened if he did not consent to the blindfold.
"Does Mangas know we are here, Miss Deveraux?"
"We have been observed since we broke camp this morning. We are being followed even now," she told him.
Kane felt a prickle of fear, but soon pushed it aside. He was no coward, but somehow the elusive Mangas spelled danger to anyone with white skin. The only one who stood between him and disaster was the beautiful Indian girl, and he knew she did not feel too charitable toward him at the moment. "I am completely at your mercy, Miss Deveraux," he told her.
"Yes, major. You are at my mercy." She gathered up the reins of his horse and led him forward.
It seemed to Kane that they had been riding for over an hour, but in truth it had been only a few short minutes.
Suddenly, he could hear the sound of many horses, and he knew they had been joined by other riders. He could tell when they entered the village by the sound of children's laughter and the barking of a dog.
Maleaha reached across and removed his blindfold from his eyes. He blinked at the bright sunlight and saw that he had been surrounded by many fierce-looking warriors. Some of them wore long leather breeches, and others wore only a breechcloth. The many dark eyes were hostile, and Kane could feel the tension in the very air he breathed.
"Do not dismount, major," Maleaha warned, as she slid gracefully from her horse. Kane watched as she spoke rapidly to one of the Indians, who quickly disappeared into one of the teepees. Kane and Maleaha both watched the teepee, and the camp became silent.
Suddenly the tent flap was thrown open and a tall Indian emerged. Kane needed no one to tell him the man was Mangas, chief of the mighty Jojoba tribe.
Maleaha stood silently, hardly daring to breathe. Would Mangas remember her? He had changed but little, she thought. His bronze chest rippled with muscles, his whole body seemed to speak of undeniable strength. As she looked into his handsome face, his black eyes fastened on her. Moments passed and the silence lay heavy across the camp. At last Mangas gave Maleaha just the slightest smile as he walked toward her with wild animal grace. His black hair was encircled by a plain leather band and glistened in the afternoon sunlight. He wore long buckskin trousers, but his chest was bare. He stopped inches from Maleaha and his smile broadened.
"So, Little Flower, you have blossomed into womanhood."
She returned his smile. "I was not sure you would remember me, my chief," she answered him in the Indian language in which he had spoken to her.
He reached out and picked up the turquoise stone that hung about her neck, the stone he had given her that day so long ago. "I would recognize you always, Little Flower," he said softly. His eyes switched to the white man in the soldier's uniform, and Kane saw the distrust, or was it hate that was registered there?
"Why have you brought this soldier to my village, Maleaha? I am not pleased with you for doing this."
Maleaha swallowed hard, then she looked into Man-gas's eyes. "This is Major Kanen Benedict, my chief. I beg you to grant him an audience. He has something of great importance to say to you."
"Who asks this of me, the white side of you, Maleaha, or the Indian side?"
"Both, Mangas," she replied. She refused to lower her eyes, but stared bravely back at him, knowing that to show weakness would only gain his contempt.
"I will speak to this white man, but you shall act as an interpreter.''
"But you speak English very well," she said, puzzled by his request.
He smiled slightly. "I can observe him and assess his sincerity better if he does not know that I understand him. Bring him to my teepee."
Maleaha watched
"From here on you shall be blindfolded, major."
"And if I refuse?"
"I shall ride away and leave you. I do not have the patience to indulge you in this."
Kane nodded his head in grim acceptance, knowing she would do just what she threatened if he did not consent to the blindfold.
"Does Mangas know we are here, Miss Deveraux?"
"We have been observed since we broke camp this morning. We are being followed even now," she told him.
Kane felt a prickle of fear, but soon pushed it aside. He was no coward, but somehow the elusive Mangas spelled danger to anyone with white skin. The only one who stood between him and disaster was the beautiful Indian girl, and he knew she did not feel too charitable toward him at the moment. "I am completely at your mercy, Miss Deveraux," he told her.
"Yes, major. You are at my mercy." She gathered up the reins of his horse and led him forward.
It seemed to Kane that they had been riding for over an hour, but in truth it had been only a few short minutes.
Suddenly, he could hear the sound of many horses, and he knew they had been joined by other riders. He could tell when they entered the village by the sound of children's laughter and the barking of a dog.
Maleaha reached across and removed his blindfold from his eyes. He blinked at the bright sunlight and saw that he had been surrounded by many fierce-looking warriors. Some of them wore long leather breeches, and others wore only a breechcloth. The many dark eyes were hostile, and Kane could feel the tension in the very air he breathed.
"Do not dismount, major," Maleaha warned, as she slid gracefully from her horse. Kane watched as she spoke rapidly to one of the Indians, who quickly disappeared into one of the teepees. Kane and Maleaha both watched the teepee, and the camp became silent.
Suddenly the tent flap was thrown open and a tall Indian emerged. Kane needed no one to tell him the man was Mangas, chief of the mighty Jojoba tribe.
Maleaha stood silently, hardly daring to breathe. Would Mangas remember her? He had changed but little, she thought. His bronze chest rippled with muscles, his whole body seemed to speak of undeniable strength. As she looked into his handsome face, his black eyes fastened on her. Moments passed and the silence lay heavy across the camp. At last Mangas gave Maleaha just the slightest smile as he walked toward her with wild animal grace. His black hair was encircled by a plain leather band and glistened in the afternoon sunlight. He wore long buckskin trousers, but his chest was bare. He stopped inches from Maleaha and his smile broadened.
"So, Little Flower, you have blossomed into womanhood."
She returned his smile. "I was not sure you would remember me, my chief," she answered him in the Indian language in which he had spoken to her.
He reached out and picked up the turquoise stone that hung about her neck, the stone he had given her that day so long ago. "I would recognize you always, Little Flower," he said softly. His eyes switched to the white man in the soldier's uniform, and Kane saw the distrust, or was it hate that was registered there?
"Why have you brought this soldier to my village, Maleaha? I am not pleased with you for doing this."
Maleaha swallowed hard, then she looked into Man-gas's eyes. "This is Major Kanen Benedict, my chief. I beg you to grant him an audience. He has something of great importance to say to you."
"Who asks this of me, the white side of you, Maleaha, or the Indian side?"
"Both, Mangas," she replied. She refused to lower her eyes, but stared bravely back at him, knowing that to show weakness would only gain his contempt.
"I will speak to this white man, but you shall act as an interpreter.''
"But you speak English very well," she said, puzzled by his request.
He smiled slightly. "I can observe him and assess his sincerity better if he does not know that I understand him. Bring him to my teepee."
Maleaha watched
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