There was but one hope, one opportunity--to cross the stream before dawn came and hide among those shifting sand-dunes of the opposite shore.

Hamlin thoroughly understood the risk involved, the treacherous nature of the Arkansas, the possibility that both might be sucked down by engulfing quicksand, yet even such a lonely death was preferable to Indian torture.
The girl at his feet stirred and moaned.

In another moment he had filled his hat with water from the river, had lifted her head upon one arm, and using the handkerchief from about his throat, was washing away the blood that matted her hair.

Now that his fingers felt the wound, he realized the force of the blow stunning her, although its outward manifestation was slight.

Her figure trembled in his arms and her eyes opened, gazing up wonderingly at the black outlines of his shadow.
Then she made an effort as though to draw away.
"Lie still a while yet, Miss McDonald," he said soothingly, "until you regain your strength." He heard the quick gasp of her breath, and felt the sudden relaxing of her muscles.
"You!" she exclaimed in undisguised relief at recognition of the voice; "is it really you?
Where are we?
What has happened ?" He told her rapidly, his face bent close, realizing that she was clinging to him again as she had once before back in the stage.