There are no two shields alike in one village; and by uttering the name Cayamo and describing the white escutcheon with a green crescent and four red crosses--a thing easy for Indian sign-language--she could not fail to identify him.

That Cayamo would recognize her and acknowledge her acquaintance she did not doubt for a moment.

She even hoped to meet him half way on the trail to the village of his tribe, provided the Navajos did not kill the hero.
While she sincerely hoped that he would return safe and in possession of many scalps, there was still a possibility of his own scalp being taken by the enemy.

The Navajos were very cunning, and their arrows were tipped with very sharp flint.

With all her feelings for her knight, and the reliance she placed on his broad shoulders, heavy neck, strong arms, and well-turned legs, accidents remained possible.