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 © Vianna Stibal, 2006, 2010
Copyright © reserved on the prior works of ‘Go Up and Seek God’ and ‘Go Up and Work With God.’
Illustrations and pictures © Rolling Thunder Publishing.
Compiled from the teachings of Vianna by Guy Stibal of ‘Rolling Thunder Publishing’
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any mechanical, photographic or electronic process,
or in the form of a phonographic recording; nor may it be stored in a retrieval system, transmitted or otherwise be
copied for public or private use, other than for ‘fair use’ as brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews,
without prior written permission of the publisher.
DISCLAIMER:
This book is not intended to prevent, diagnose, treat or cure disease. The book was written by a former cancer
patient, not a physician or doctor. The book describes a healing approach that is not approved by any qualified
health professional or any statutory recognised medical or health professional body. The author wrote this book to
share her personal research, experience, and opinion, not to provide medical advice. The author has no training in
medicine. Please consult a licensed physician before beginning any new alternative or complementary therapy
program.
Neither the author nor the publishers of this book make any representations or warranties of any kind regarding the
appropriateness of the advices contained herein for any individual. The information presented is not medical advice
and is not given as medical advice, and is not a substitute for consultation with a specialist medical practitioner.

The trademarks THETAHEALING® and ORIAN TECHNIQUE™ are owned by Nature’s Path, Inc., an Idaho
corporation owned by Vianna Stibal and Guy Stibal. Any unauthorized use of these marks is prohibited.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781848502437 in print
ISBN 9781848503991 in Mobipocket format
ISBN 9781848504004 in Epub format
 This book is dedicated:

To my God, the Creator of All That Is. It was under divine direction that the information
contained in this book was received.

To my mother, who taught me to pray and to believe that God always hears and answers our
prayers.

To my husband, who compiled the writing for this book, and who assisted me during my
travels as I taught these techniques to the world. He is appreciated so much more than I could
ever express.

To my children, who inspire me, who are my friends and who are all gifted intuitives.

To my precious grandchildren, who have brought blessings and joy into my life.

To all the ThetaHealing instructors and practitioners and the magnificent people throughout
the world who have brought it to life. These wonderful people have been a source of joy to
me. They are an inspiration to me on my journeys as I present these important techniques
and concepts to the world.

And to those I have yet to meet, may your paths lead you to the place of greatest peace and
abundant goodness.
 Believe nothing,
No matter where you read it,
Or who has said it,
Not even if I have said it,
Unless it agrees with your own reason,
And your common sense.

Buddha
 CONTENTS

Preface

Acknowledgements

1. The Formation of ThetaHealing®

2. The Formation of Classes
3. The Basics of Healings and Readings
4. The Road Map to All That Is
5. The Reading
6. Opening the Psychic Centres through the Chakras
7. ThetaHealing
8. Group Healing
9. Why People Do Not Heal
10. Belief Systems
11. How to Work on the Four Levels
12. The Creation of Feelings
13. Key Core Beliefs
14. Advanced Healing Processes Using the Belief Work
15. The Law of Truth
16. The Seven Planes of Existence
17. ‘Healer, Heal Thyself’
18. Death, Initiations and Death Doors
19. Guardian Angels
20. Waywards, the Fallen, Possession, Psychic Hooks, Curses and Implants
21. Healing and Communicating with Animals
22. Affairs of the Soul
23. Manifesting
24. The Future Reading
25. DNA
26. The DNA Activation Technique
27. Gene Replacement
28. Vianna’s Intuitive Anatomy
29. Secrets of the Intuitive Reading Session
30. Children of the Rainbow
31. How Children Develop
32. The First Spiritual Initiation: Jesus the Christ

Epilogue

Appendices:
Quick Reference ThetaHealing Guide
Testimonials

Further Information

Hay House Titles of Related Interest

Join the Hay House Family

 PREFACE

In this book I will reveal one of the most powerful energy-healing techniques that has
ever been written down: ThetaHealing.® ThetaHealing is a meditational process that
brings about physical, psychological and spiritual healing with focused prayer through
the Creator. The Creator has freely given us the fascinating knowledge you are about to
receive. It has changed my life and the lives of many others.
There is one requirement that is absolute with this technique: you must have a
central belief in the Creator of All That Is. I realize that the Creator has many different
names, and God, Buddha, Shiva, Goddess, Jesus, Yahweh and Allah are all currents
leading in a flow towards the Seventh Plane of Existence and the Creative Energy of All
That Is. ThetaHealing has no religious affiliation. Neither are its processes specific to
any age, sex, race, colour, creed or religion. Anyone with a pure belief in God or the
Creative Force can access and use the branches of the ThetaHealing tree.
This book is a fusion of the past works of Go Up and Seek God, Go Up and Work with
God and The DNA 2 Advanced Manual, with additional information developed since
these works were written.
Even though I am sharing this information with you, I do not accept any
responsibility for the changes that can occur from its use. The responsibility is yours, a
responsibility you assume when you realize that you have the power to change your
life as well as the lives of others through permission.
Please note, the remedies, approaches and techniques described herein are not
meant to supplement, or be a substitute for, professional medical care or treatment.
You should not treat a serious medical ailment without prior consultation from a
qualified healthcare professional.
 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A special thanks to Sky A’Hearn for her dedication in all the typing she has done in
ThetaHealing classes over the years.
 1
THE FORMATION OF THETAHEALING®

From the conception of the Orian Technique in 1994 to what ThetaHealing® has
become in the present day has been quite a journey. This journey has been shared with
the wonderful ThetaHealing practitioners and instructors who support the work.
ThetaHealing continues to grow as a beautiful tree in spring, watered by the interest of
people around the world.
*****
My name is Vianna. I am the founder of what has become ThetaHealing. I was born
with an inherent intuitive ability, although it was not my original plan to use this
ability for healing. I began an initial study of Taoism, nutrition and herbs because of
personal health problems. These interests eventually led me along the path to Nature’s
Path, which is the name of my business.
This path originally began in 1990, when I divorced my husband of 10 years and
had three young children to raise. I had heard that the government was required to hire
a certain number of women for the Department of Energy. There was a Department of
Energy facility relatively close to where I lived in Idaho Falls, Idaho. My plan was to
work at what was called the ‘Site’ in nuclear security and still pursue my true interest
in art. I knew that the bus ride to work would be long, but I thought the pay and
benefits would be worth the effort.
It was in 1991 that I began the year-long training for the job of nuclear security
guard. Competition was fierce and I had to learn skills that pushed me to the limit.
After completing my training I took a job at a nearby manufacturing plant while I
waited for my security clearance to work for the government.
During this time I never forgot my other interests. On breaks I would draw sketches
of the other employees and give them short intuitive readings. This was shift work and
I would often work from midnight to morning. As a single mother, I soon realized that
working as a security guard at a manufacturing plant did not offer the future that I
wanted for my family. I knew that something had to change.
 Health problems provided the incentive I needed to concentrate on the study of
naturopathic medicine. Once I had finished the course in naturopathic medicine, in
March 1994 I opened a business offering full-time massage, nutritional counselling and
a naturopathic practice.
I came to the realization that I was following my life’s path when doors began to
open. I met a psychic who suggested that I do readings for income. As if by magic I had
an office to work in, and from the very first day I always had clients to see. Within the
first week I had met the person who was to become my best friend and had established
repeat clients for readings. It was during these readings that I found that if I would
listen, the voice of the Creator would give me instructions. I became quite good at the
readings and was asked to do classes on the technique I was using. This was my
beginning as a medical intuitive. From this time forward my metaphysical experiences
increased exponentially to quantify who I was to become.
Meanwhile I had developed a severe problem with my right leg. It would
intermittently swell up to twice its normal size. Due to the inflammation and severe
pain, I decided it was wise to seek conventional medical help. In the August of 1995, I
was diagnosed with bone cancer. I was told that I had a tumour in my right femur.
Every test that was performed at this time confirmed it. The bone specialist told me
that he had seen only two other cases like mine. He also informed me that he felt
amputation might be my best option. This, he said, would give me a little more time to
live.
I felt as though darkness was gathering about me, and my ordeal was not over yet.
My doctor sent me to the University of Utah for a biopsy. I was told that the procedure
required my leg to be opened to allow the doctor to go in and take a bone sample by
scraping the inside of my femur. I had no choice but to travel for four hours, in
excruciating pain, for this biopsy. Blake, my husband at the time, drove me to Utah and
I was admitted to hospital. It was necessary for me to be awake for the procedure,
forced to listen to the sounds of the hammer and drill. I was advised to stay in hospital
overnight, but Blake told the hospital staff that we were leaving because we had no
insurance. I was too weak to argue with him. So, in incredible pain, I was bustled to
the car and taken to spend the night at Blake’s brother’s house before the long drive
home.
 As I was leaving hospital, I was told by the doctors that if I walked on my leg it
would break. If this happened there would be no alternative but to amputate it to
prevent the spread of the cancer. I was also informed that I might only have a couple of
months to live anyway.
This ordeal put me on crutches for six weeks. I was still in unbearable pain from the
tumour. My life seemed to be falling apart. I hobbled around on the crutches, living
with constant pain and doubt as to how much longer I could actually survive. Still I
went forward, continuing to see clients, not because of great courage or endurance, but
because I had financial obligations and my young children needed me. Even though I
was newly married to Blake, the relationship was anything but a true partnership and
was an added burden on my declining health. I couldn’t just give up and die, leaving
my children alone. The very thought of them being sent to relatives, even to their
father (who was paraplegic and ill), was unbearable. These thoughts gave me the will
to live.
Even though I was very ill, my intuitive abilities became even more accurate, as did
my connection to the Creator. All my life I had believed that I had a higher purpose
from a promise that I made when I was 17. Now I was uncertain if I would complete it.
In confusion and sadness I sent forth a cry to the Creator: ‘Why me? Why am I losing
my leg? God, am I going to die? I have so much left to do!’
In the middle of this plea I heard a voice, as loud and clear as if the speaker was
standing right next to me in the room: ‘Vianna, you are here with or without a leg, so
deal with it.’
I was astonished by this answer, but, although I didn’t know it at the time, it was
just what I needed. In that instant I became even more determined to find a way to
heal my body.
Healers from the area where I lived heard of my plight and people came from
seemingly everywhere to help me. Some were wonderful healers, which I am sure kept
me going through the dark times. The prayers that were made on my behalf kept me
alive. I still thank God for Alice and Barbara helping to take away the pain.
I was a pitiful sight, hobbling into my office, leaning on my massage table to do
massages and painfully struggling through readings. Adding to my problems, I had
developed a staph infection in my leg. I decided that enough was enough! I was going to
treat myself.
First, let me say that I have never been against conventional medicine. I believe that
we should respect the opinions of trained healthcare professionals and in most cases
they are likely to be correct. Even so, I felt that in my isolated case the doctors were
wrong in their diagnosis of bone cancer.
I trusted my intuition and the information I was receiving from the Creator and I
began putting my knowledge of naturopathy to good use. I realized that it was vital for
me to focus on aggressively cleaning out my body. I began a series of lemon cleanses as
well as sauna cleanses. I spent a great deal of time in the sauna – four hours a day for
over two and a half weeks. I took vitamins and minerals and I prayed constantly.
Through it all, I still believed the medical diagnosis that the doctors had given me was
wrong, but in spite of everything I was doing to help myself, I remained very sick.
My biopsy result finally came back and the result was negative for bone cancer,
which confused the doctors, since every test performed earlier had shown a tumour.
The biopsy had, however, revealed dead cells along with normal bone cells. The test
result was sent to the Mayo Clinic, where they determined that I had lymphatic cancer
that had killed the cells in my femur. I knew this to be the truth and I believed mercury
poisoning had caused it. How? I knew this because I had gone up and asked God (or
the Creator) and had received the message that I had been poisoned by mercury.
I began to search for answers as to how to get the mercury out of my system. I
continued with cleanses, always trusting in the information that I received from the
Creator. By this time my leg had physically shrunk and I was told by the doctors that in
the event that I did survive, I would need physical therapy to enable me to walk
correctly again.
I believed to the core of my being that God could heal in an instant and in spite of
everything that was happening, I continued to trust my intuition. Somehow I felt that I
already knew how to heal myself. There was just something I was missing. I had used
conventional medicine, cleanses, nutrition, oils, vitamins, affirmations and
visualizations, and still I was sick. Every time I asked the Creator, I was told that I
already knew the answer and that I just had to remember how to call upon God.
The answer to my prayers came while I was in the mountains. I held a gathering
with some friends where we camped out and shared a pot luck dinner. Each person that
came brought a dish for the gathering. My aunt from Oregon showed up unexpectedly,
but had a bad stomachache. She lay down in a tent and I went inside to help her. She
knew that I was a naturopath, but I had no herbs with me. The intense pain that she
was in led me to believe that it might be her appendix. I began to do a body scan, as I
had done with others hundreds of times before. I went out of the top of my head,
through my crown chakra, as I would do when giving a reading, and when I was in my
aunt’s space I asked the Creator what was the matter with her and I was shown that it
was giardia. I told it to go away and witnessed the Creator releasing the pain in her
stomach. Within seconds, it had gone. She was able to get up and felt much better. This
incident gave me food for thought and encouraged me to use it again.
The next day a man came into my practice with severe backache. Reflecting on what
had happened with my aunt, I did the same procedure on him. Instantly, his back pain
was gone.
That night, I pondered over the events of the past days. I decided it was time to do
the same thing to myself.
The following day I hobbled into my office, excited at the prospect of carrying out
the same procedure on my leg. I thought to myself, ‘It can’t be this easy!’
I stopped just before the door to my office and went out of my space from my crown
chakra and prayed to the Creator. I then commanded a healing on myself, and it
worked! My right leg, which had shrunk to three inches shorter than my left leg,
returned instantly to its normal size. The pain was removed and my leg was healed.
I was so incredibly excited about my healing that throughout the day I compulsively
tested the strength in my newly healed leg, curious to see if the pain would return.
Today my femur continues to be healthy, all test reports are normal and I am free of
lymphatic cancer. In my gratitude I made a vow to the Creator to give this technique to
all those who wanted to learn it. This was the foundation of the ThetaHealing that we
know and love today.
Interestingly, I still have the X-rays of my leg. A few years ago, they were taken to a
bone specialist for a second opinion and he pronounced that the owner of the leg must
surely be dead!
The next person that I used the technique on was a little girl. A woman named
Audrey Miller had a great-granddaughter with health difficulties and brought the child
to me to be healed. She knew nothing about the instantaneous healing to my leg.
I asked her, ‘Why did you bring her to me?’
Audrey looked at me with her soulful eyes and said, ‘God told me to bring her to
you.’
I remember how she walked up to me and placed the child in my arms. The child’s
own arms were tiny; she had gained no weight at all in the past two years. She had
been born with her legs out of their sockets and she had a heart murmur. She also had
what I can only term ‘a bad attitude’.
I knew that I had been healed, so I told Audrey that it would take six days to heal
the child, thinking that this would be plenty of time. I was excited about this new
technique, but also very anxious. I remember crying to the Creator, ‘Oh, dear Lord,
please help me heal this child. Please, God, please, heal this child.’ Then I went up to
use the procedure I had been shown.
Each day for six days, Audrey’s daughter drove for two hours to bring the child to
me to be worked on for half an hour. I put her under coloured lights and used the new
healing technique.
The little girl was using crutches to walk, the kind that attached to her arms. On the
third day, she stood up and told me that she could walk and that she was going to walk
to her grandmother without crutches. I said to her, ‘Oh no, honey, you can’t do that
yet. You aren’t strong enough.’ But, stubbornly, she told me that she was going to do it.
She stood up and walked about three or four feet to her grandmother. That was the
first time she had ever walked on her own. I was totally amazed!
After that I watched her back straighten out and she expelled several tapeworms.
Her heart murmur had now gone and she started, with physical therapy, to learn how
to walk properly. Now that she had the strength, she could teach her body to walk
without assistance. The most amazing part of this healing was that she gained two
pounds in just three days, and in six days, she had gained four pounds.
Something was working! Excited, I began to use the technique on everyone. I treated
all kinds of different diseases and infirmities and started working with people who
were terminally ill. People from all walks of life found me by word of mouth. I found
that the healings were extremely successful with clients that I already had and soon
new clients were coming from all over the world. Many of them were healed instantly,
while others took a few sessions, and others simply did not heal.
After using the procedure with varying degrees of success I came to a conclusion
about why this technique was working so well. I came to believe that we were doing
these healings from a ‘Theta state’ of mind. I had some knowledge of Theta because my
by then former husband Blake was a hypnotist. He had many books about the
subconscious mind and I had occasionally read these books. My theory was that we
were going into the Theta state to bring about these healings. If my theory was correct,
then I had a breakthrough in healing and an explanation of faith healing that could be
scientifically measured.
 2
THE FORMATION OF CLASSES

I knew that Theta was not a new theory of healing. Many hypnotists had actually
worked with people in the Theta state. They had brought the client and also the health
practitioner to a Theta state and achieved amazing results. I was also convinced that
when you called upon God in this state, you could plug in, as if to an electrical socket,
and actually heal a person instantly. I was already getting extremely good results, but I
knew that it could be perfected if I had a better understanding of what I were doing, so
I commenced investigating.
The human mind has five different brainwaves: Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta and
Theta. These are constantly in motion; the brain is consistently producing waves in all
of these frequencies. Everything that you do and everything you say is regulated by the
frequency of your brainwaves.
A Theta state is a very deep state of relaxation, the state used in hypnosis. In Theta,
the brainwaves are slowed to a frequency of four to seven cycles per second. Sages
meditate for hours to reach this state, as in it they are able to access absolute calm.
Theta brainwaves can be thought of as the subconscious; they govern the part of our
mind that is layered between the conscious and the unconscious. They hold memories
and sensations. They also govern our attitudes, beliefs and behaviour. They are always
creative and inspirational and are characterized by very spiritual sensations. We believe
this state allows us to act below the level of the conscious mind.
Theta is a very powerful state. It can be likened to the trance-like state that children
attain when they are playing video games and are completely oblivious to what is
going on around them. Another example of the use of Theta state is that of the Tibetan
priests. In winter, these priests place wet owels over their shoulders. Within minutes
the towels are completely dry. In ancient times the Kahunas of Hawaii accessed the
Theta state to walk on hot lava.
I began to teach this technique in the classes that I held locally. During my first
class, a student stood up and told me that it was absolutely impossible to ‘hold’ a
conscious Theta state. He said that he had been working with biofeedback for many
years and unless a person was in a deep sleep hypnotic state, they just could not hold a
Theta state. He claimed that the other brainwaves would interfere. He said that it was a
great theory, but it was impossible. I was amused by his response and felt more
determined than ever to prove my theory.
Validation for the Theta state came when a friend and student became interested in
the work. He was a physicist who worked at the nuclear site outside town. He made us
an electroencephalograph, and that’s when things became interesting. In my classes, we
hooked up people from all healing modalities to the machine. We found that people
who were Reiki practitioners utilized the high Alpha brainwave. The Alpha brainwave
is a wonderful healing wave. In fact, some Japanese scientists believe strongly in it
because Alpha waves ‘remove’ pain and relax the body.
We confirmed that the technique we were using to do the healings was taking us to
a Theta state. Every single person was going into Theta, even those just learning the
technique. And we found that not only were the practitioners going into Theta, but the
people they were working on were also going into Theta. We believed that the healings
were taking place in a state of what I call ‘God-consciousness’.
We continued to teach people as fast as we could. The classes were filled with
wonderful people all eager to learn the technique. More and more people were learning
and having a great time.
With continued practice, I found the healings became even more detailed and
impressive. The results improved and my clientèle increased daily, but I still
encountered a few people who would not heal.
One of those was a woman who had diabetes. Although her pain disappeared, her
legs got better and so many other things improved for her, I could not keep her
diabetes under control. Her blood sugar level still fluctuated dangerously. I knew that
this type of diabetes was caused by a chromosome and I tried everything, even
commanding the body to have its perfect blueprint. I was told that this did not work
because the body thought it was perfect the way it was.
It was while working with this woman that I made a very interesting discovery.
When I went ‘up’ and asked to see the chromosome that was causing her diabetes, in
the rapture of Theta I was shown another chromosome that I was told was the
chromosome of youth and vitality. Then I heard the voice of the Creator guiding me in
a story of human DNA. I was told that this particular chromosome had been changed
during the history of humankind’s evolution. In a time and consciousness that is now
lost to us, we were able to rejuvenate our body. We lost this ability over thousands of
years, and because of this, this chromosome is now incomplete. However, in this time
of enlightenment we are once again ready to receive regenerated youth.
I was told that the lost keys of youth and vitality in the DNA code were going to be
vital to human survival in the years to come. This was, in part, because of the poisons
and toxins that we would be subjected to in the modern industrial age. I was told that
as a larger degree of the population became intuitive, they would become more
sensitive to the physical world, but the completion of the youth and vitality
chromosome would help them survive.
I was so excited about the new discovery that I forgot all about the chromosome for
diabetes. I gave the woman with diabetes a hug, told her that I would work with her
the next day and sent her home.
At the time, I was sharing my office with my friends Kevin and Chrissie. With
glowing enthusiasm I told them all about what I had seen. I also told them that I had
been given instruction on how to work on the chromosome and how to complete it.
They were fascinated by the concepts and listened intently as I told them the process. I
activated myself first and then Kevin and Chrissie. That evening I was given more
information and guidance. In the coming days I was repeatedly shown how to change
the youth and vitality chromosome until the Creator was sure that I had understood the
information. This was the beginning of the DNA activation (see Chapter 26).
The Creator told me to begin with the DNA activation, activating the phantom DNA
strands in a person’s body. Understand that in this process we are not actually adding
strands to anyone, we are only awakening what is already there. I was told that
through this activation a person’s intuition is improved, their ability to heal is
improved, their body detoxifies and they are able to access the different planes of
existence effortlessly. When I activated myself, I found that my ‘laughter lines’ began to
fade away and my body started rejuvenating. I felt younger.
It was at this time that I hosted a radio talk show. I scheduled myself to speak about
the Theta technique. When the radio staff asked me what it was called, I told them that
I had always called it ThetaHealing. They advised me to choose another name because
they felt that the name sounded like Scientology.
I told Kevin and Chrissie about this and we all sat down to brainstorm an alternate
name. I remember us sitting on the floor of the office, laughing in our bare feet. I can
still see Kevin with his long red hair and infectious laughter and Chrissie with her
serious metaphysical demeanour. We remembered that the technique had been called
many names. The first name I remembered was the Wilson technique, which was used
for remote viewing in 1928. But we went even further back in time and Kevin and I
agreed upon the name ‘Orian’ (with an ‘a’). This was the name that we used: the Orian
technique.
For the first few years I continued with this name, but ThetaHealing was more to my
liking. Today we use the name ‘ThetaHealing’ for the brainwave Theta, originating
from the Egyptian and Greek letter theta, meaning, among other things, ‘soul’. The
Orian technique was originally associated with the DNA activation, but ThetaHealing
represents the complete healing modality, which stems from the thousands of readings,
not to mention hundreds of classes and seminars, that I have done. Today both the
names – ‘Orian technique’ and ‘ThetaHealing’ – are used, but ThetaHealing has become
mainstream.
From the time of the talk show ThetaHealing began to take on a living essence of its
own. Then I received a message from the Creator. In spite of all that was happening in
my personal life, the Creator told me to take this information to the world and to share
it with others. I told the Creator that I was the wrong person to do this. In fact, I spent
several hours discussing it with the Creator. I had actually already given my word to
take it to the world, but now the true ramifications of this responsibility were hitting
home.
I remember reasoning with the Creator. I said, ‘OK, if you want me to take this to
the world, then send me a doctor, one who can tell me that this is the way a
chromosome actually works, a doctor that will actually listen to me, a doctor who is
open enough spiritually to listen to what I have to say. You also need to send me
someone to write a book, because I am just too busy.’
I had many reasons for asking for all this. At that particular time in my life, my son’s
wife was pregnant and so was my daughter, and they were all living in my home. I was
in the middle of a nasty divorce and I was taking care of all of these people by myself. I
felt that my whole world was falling apart right before my eyes, and in the midst of all
of this, I was being told by the Creator to take ThetaHealing to the world! I just
couldn’t understand how I could do any more than I was already doing.
So I was perplexed when the Creator said, ‘You will write the book, Vianna.’
But I also knew that God never asks you to do anything without providing a way for
you to do it.
Shortly thereafter, Audrey Miller came into my office quite unexpectedly and told
me that I was going to the Universal Light Workers’ Conference. I had seen the flyer for
this and wanted to go, but I couldn’t afford it. But now this wonderful woman was
willing to pay my fare and all of my expenses, including my food and everything else
that I needed. She told me that I needed to meet a doctor that was speaking there.
Apparently he was speaking about DNA. Audrey knew about the DNA activation that I
was doing and thought that the two of us should meet. This was validation enough for
me.
When it came near the time to go, however, I baulked, because I didn’t want to
leave my children at such a difficult time in their lives. The more I thought about it, the
worse I felt. I made myself sick with anxiety. I was torn between staying and going.
Needless to say, by the time I got to the conference, I was feeling pretty wrung out.
The first person that I met at the conference was the doctor I had asked God to show
me. At the time he was doing extensive work with lasers and DNA. He seemed to be
open-minded, so I tentatively began to tell him about what I was visualizing in the
DNA activation. As we talked, he told me the names and functions of everything that I
was seeing in the chromosomes – the shadow chromosomes, the telomeres – and he not
only validated what I was seeing but said it was unlikely that I could have known some
of this without having been instructed in some way. I told him that this was what God
had shown me, and that inside the brain was the ‘central cell’ (so called by my friend
Kevin) that was located in the pineal gland. This ‘master cell’ (as the doctor called it) is
the creation point for sending messages to the rest of the body
I apparently piqued the doctor’s curiosity. After our meeting he called on me to
remote view clients as he visited them. He tested me with these people and asked me
questions about what I could ‘see’ in their bodies. Then he not only confirmed what I
had seen but his curiosity in my ability to ‘see’ what was going on in the body allowed
me to know that I was viewing something real.
At the same conference I met Robert, who was a publisher. He had been involved
with metaphysics before and as we talked he became interested in the DNA knowledge.
We agreed that he should come to Idaho to transcribe the channelled material. I
recorded the DNA activation technique for him and he and I agreed to co-author a
small book. But when he took the recordings home to California, he wrote it and
published it in pamphlet form, listing himself as the main author with my name in
small print at the bottom. Much to my dismay, he changed the material so much and
added so much filler that it had little to do with the original knowledge that I had
given him. This book came out in 1997. This was a great disappointment to me and a
betrayal of my trust; however, it encouraged me to rewrite the book and publish it
myself.
By this time I felt that I could not trust anyone to compile a book on ThetaHealing,
not even my closest friends. I decided to write the information down myself, in the
form that it came to me from Creator, so that the vital points were not lost. God had
once again worked in a strange way and I was guided by a divine plan. My first
transcribed ThetaHealing book was called Go Up and Seek God.
True to my promise to the Creator, I began to teach classes throughout the United
States in 1998. These were the first of the DNA 1 classes, where I taught the DNA
activation and the early Orian Technique. In 1999, I created the first Teacher’s Course
to certify teachers in the Orian Technique. This was held at a place called Triple Creek
in La Bell, Idaho. The course is now taught several times a year and I have been
certifying teachers ever since. A DNA 2 Teacher’s Manual was developed for it and is
now updated constantly. The Creator was right; I would take the technique to the
world.
I continued to see clients, and by the end of 1999 I had done over 20,000 readings
and healings. As time went on I received more information and transcribed the book Go
Up and Work with God in the year 2000. In this book, the belief work that came to me
was put on paper for the first time. About this time, the DNA 1 Class (in what was then
a two-day class) grew into what became known as DNA 2, a three-day class, in order to
encompass the belief work. By the year 2000 I was teaching internationally.
One of the greatest things I have discovered while working on clients is that we hold
the keys to our own health, our body and our vitality. The information I was given
allows us to change our beliefs, and the systems that guide our decisions, in an instant.
These are the beliefs and programmes we learned from childhood and from other
aspects of our being. Some of them have been passed on from generation to generation.
In the following pages you will learn how to work on all four levels of all that you
are: the core belief level, the genetic level, the history level and the soul level. It is through
the removal and replacement of programmes on these four levels that the body is
enabled to conquer physical illness and remove emotional blockage. This belief work
will enable you to create the life that you want for yourself, for it is a truth that we
create our own reality and that we are all connected to God. I am going to share with
you the tools to change what you formerly believed, reverse the negative effect these
beliefs have had on you and create the life you desire.
In the year 2000, a new class was shown to me called ‘Psychic Anatomy’. I have
since changed the name of this class to ‘Intuitive Anatomy’. The first class was held at
my old Channing Way, Idaho Falls, offices. It was designed to assist people to ‘see’ the
inside of the body for healing, as an aid to the Theta technique. The body of knowledge
of this class is held in the Intuitive Anatomy Manual, published in 2003, and I now
certify teachers for this class as well.
By the end of 2002, I had given almost 35,000 readings. The techniques that I
learned in these sessions and classes are the foundations for this book.
In 2003, feeling work was added to the belief work. This was because I was told that
certain people had never experienced particular feelings in their whole lives, nor did
they understand how to create them. I was told that these feelings could be
‘downloaded’ into them from the Creator with their permission.
A considerable amount of knowledge was then collected and presented in the form
of The Advanced DNA 2 Class Manual. In 2003, the first Advanced Class was held in
Santa Rosa, California, and the first Advanced Teacher’s Course was in 2004. This class
was designed to get people ready for DNA 3 and to clarify the planes of existence, as
will be explained further in this book. We will all be closer to DNA 3 when we have
removed enough programmes and downloaded enough feelings to bring us to
enlightenment.
The ThetaHealing ‘tree’ continues to grow as new information brings it into bloom.
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The minutes rolled on, each one seeming like an hour of ordinary
time, and still no signs of Fred's return. Then came a rifle-shot from
some point not far distant—a wild yell, followed by the loud crashing
of what seemed horses' hoofs, passing through the forest at
headlong speed. Tremblingly the three fugitives awaited the result,
fearing to move from their covert.
The glowing beacons upon either hand of them, grew more faint as
the moments passed on, and then were entirely shut out from view
by the gathering clouds, and the thickly clustering tree-tops.
And still no sign of Fred's return. Stevens could stand the suspense
no longer, but arose to his feet, saying:
"I will wait no longer. Something must have happened, or he would
have been back long ago. It is throwing away our only chance by
stopping here. Come, let us go."
"But Fred said"—uttered Jennie, falteringly.
"I know that, but something must have happened to hinder his
coming back. If we stay here, we will only be smelled out and killed
by these murdering red-skins. Come on," decisively added Stevens,
as he moved away from the spot.
The women well knew that all resistance would be in vain, and arose
to obey.
Stevens did not think it prudent to travel in the beaten Trace, lest he
should meet some of the enemy, and so kept along through the
forest, using such skill as he was possessed of, to proceed silently.
But the danger foreseen by Fred, proved well founded. In the very
outset the borderer went astray. He had lost his bearings, and
instead of proceeding toward the lower settlements, he was pursuing
an almost directly opposite direction, or nearly toward his own cabin
—or where that had previously stood.
In evading the tree-trunks and clumps of bushes, he deviated from a
direct course, now bearing to the right, now left, until he almost
struck the beaten trail they had lately traversed, when led by Fred
Wilson. And then Stevens ran headlong into the very danger he was
most anxious to avoid.
The settler came first, then his wife, and after her, Jennie. The dress
of the latter caught upon a root, and she paused to loosen it; a fact
that probably saved her life.
For just then a wild yell rung out from close before Stevens,
accompanied by a sharp crack and broad glare that lighted up the
scene for a moment, with startling vividness. By it the settler saw the
dusky figures of some half-score savages, and with impulse of the
moment, he threw up his rifle, firing at the foremost one.
A thrilling death-yell that followed told that his shot had not been
spent in vain, but then a return volley rung out, and he staggered
back, wounded unto death. He stumbled over the prostrate form of
his wife, whom the first shot had stricken down, but recovered
himself as the enemy sprung forward with exultant whoops and yells.
For a brief moment the settler battled with frantic fury, but all was in
vain. The bullet that first struck him had reached the seat of life, and
then a knife pierced his side. Still defiant, he sunk down, with a
hoarse cry, upon the body of his murdered wife. And over them
raged the red-skins, fighting for the coveted scalps like demons
incarnate.
Jennie was sheltered by the intervening tree-trunk, and although
more than one bullet shattered the rough bark, she was unharmed.
Terror held her enchained to the spot, despite herself.
Then she heard the dying cry of her father, and knew that all was
lost. With a low cry of agony she turned and fled through the forest,
half dead with horror.
The red-skins scrambling for the coveted trophies, heard her not, but
one other ear did; that of Sloan Young, and divining the truth, he
sprung forward after the fleeing girl, and knew that the coveted prize
he feared was lost, was now just within his grasp. He gave vent to a
long, loud yell of diabolical exultation.
But Jennie's feet seemed gifted with more than mortal speed, and
she fled over the rough ground, through the bushes and tangled
shrubbery, fully holding her vantage-ground, hard as the half-breed
strove to overtake her. Uttering furious curses, he dashed madly on
—to his death!
Jennie sped on, blindly, half unconsciously. A horrible sound filled
her ears—the death-cry of her father—the gasping groan of her
murdered mother. She knew not her own danger; she only felt some
frightful danger was driving her on, she knew not whither.
She sped on past a dark, crouching form, and then felt, rather than
saw, another figure rise up before her. With a low gasping moan she
sunk unresistingly into the outstretched arms; her senses fled and
she fainted.
The half-breed also heard the cry and answered it with one of
exultant triumph, for he believed that the fugitive must soon drop
from exhaustion, when she would become an easy prey to him. But
he was doomed to a bitter disappointment.
He noted the abrupt cessation of Jennie's footsteps, and tricky
himself, he suspected some ruse upon her part; most probably an
attempt at doubling upon him. To defeat this he paused and listened
intently.
He saw a dark figure rise up almost within arm's length of him, and
believing it to be his intended victim, he sprung forward with
outstretched hands, crying:
"You may as well gi' up, my dear—"
Thus far he spoke, and no further. For a strong hand clutched his
throat, and as the tall form towered above him, the gleam of a
descending knife-blade filled his eyes. The half-breed made one
desperate effort to free himself; he was not given time for more.
But he was held like a child, and then the keen knife hissed down—
then with a horrible thud, the hilt fairly struck against his chest. The
long blade had cloven his heart in twain.
Still he made a desperate effort—his death-throe, it was—and freed
his throat from the vise-like grip fastened upon it. A single wild yell
broke from his lips, and then he sunk a lifeless weight in the arms of
his conqueror, a corpse.
Still the alarm was given, and that last cry bade fair to avenge its
author's death. For it had reached the ears of the still scuffling
savages, and awoke them to their folly.
They recognized the voice of their leader, and one of them had
placed the sound; and he quickly communicated it to his comrades.
Then with shrill yells of anger they sprung forward, eager to assist or
avenge their chief, as the case might be.
"Put the gal down, Jack," muttered Tobe Castor—for it was indeed
him—speaking in a quick tone. "The imps is a comin' hot fut. Let the
women hunker down cluss ahind the log. It's fight now, an' we'll hev
our hands full 'thout them!"
The trio—Castor, Wilson and Stevens—drew together, the better to
meet the shock they knew must soon come. They could not avoid it
by flight; that course would be certain destruction, as they well knew.
The three women had been placed in a clump of bushes bordering
and overhanging a large fallen tree and against this, on the opposite
side, the men backed, as by it they secured themselves from being
assailed upon all sides at the same time. Tobe again spoke:
"Fire as I do, an' then drap down on yer faces. Ef they shoot at the
bleeze, thet'll mebbe save us. Then do the best you know how, with
cold steel an' clubbed rifles, ef so be they make a rush."
There was no time for further instructions, if such had been needed.
But the others knew what lay before them well enough. They knew it
would probably result in a hand-to-hand combat, that could scarcely
end otherwise than in their destruction. And yet they did not flinch.
They had dear and helpless ones to fight for, as well as their own
lives.
The yelling red-skins came on at full speed, until within a short
distance of the borderers, when they abruptly paused; the ominous
stillness awed them. They could not comprehend it.
One Eye did not answer; then he must be dead. Nothing could be
heard of his slayer or slayers. Therefore they could not have fled, or
the sound of their footsteps would have been heard. And would they
have remained here, unless in strong force, sufficient to successfully
resist the braves of the dead half-breed?
But then the more impatient of the Sioux, excited by the slight taste
of blood they had in the death of the two fugitives, gave a cry and
sprung forward. The rest followed, in a compact mass; a fatal move
upon their part.
The three men standing beside the fallen tree could now faintly
distinguish the enemy, as they surmounted a slight knoll. Knowing
the advantage of a first blow, Castor leveled his rifle, the action being
closely imitated by his comrades, and then fired.
The three reports sounded almost as one, and carried death and
dismay into the ranks of the Sioux. The horrible death-yells and
groans of agony told how fatal had been the discharge, and, as with
one impulse, the survivors broke and fled, without firing one shot.
But this panic was only momentary. Then they rallied, and
proceeded to concert some plan for the revenge the blood of their
fallen comrades demanded at their hands.
The three borderers dropped to the ground, as agreed upon, but this
precaution was needless, as we have already seen. Then they
began hurriedly re-charging their weapons, full well knowing there
would be further need of them, ere the affair was over.
"They are driven back—why not take the women and slip away?"
whispered Wilson, cautiously, he being nearest to Tobe.
"Don't be a fool, Ed—don't, fer marcy's sake. They'd hear us, an'
then we'd be in a nice fix—I guess not. Thet's jest what they want the
most. They don't know how we're fixed now, and 'll fight shy fer a
time. No, we must stick it out here—fer a time, anyhow."
Their weapons recharged, the three men crouched down in anxious
waiting. Especially was John Stevens troubled.
He feared the worst. He had found Jennie, his sister, fleeing from a
spot where had been going on a desperate fight for life. But where
were the others? his father and mother? Were they dead, or also
fugitives in the forest?
That was a query he feared to answer, but something down in his
heart told him that a great calamity had occurred: that he was now
parentless. Still, there was a faint hope. Jennie had escaped with
life; then might not the others have fared equally as well?
Fortunately he had something to distract his thoughts, in a measure.
Otherwise he would have gone mad. But now he must bear up for
the sake of his sister—his loved one and her friends. They were in
imminent peril, and upon his arms partly depended their hopes of
preservation.
The groans of the dying wretches had ceased, and all was once
more still in the forest. Even the insects had seemed to cease their
humming, and the faint breeze to die utterly away. The stillness was
awful—depressing in the extreme.
For despite this seeming peacefulness, they well knew that
bloodthirsty and unscrupulous foes were busily compassing their
destruction. They knew that some subtle plot was being concocted
by the savages, who would be fairly wild with rage and thirst for
revenge. This suspense was harder to bear than the deadliest strife
would have been, for while they knew their peril was imminent, they
knew not in which direction it would first appear, nor the shape it
would assume.
But they had not long to wait for the knowledge. A faint rustling
sound at some little distance first met their vigilant ears, although no
human form could be seen. This for a time puzzled them, as the
sound appeared confined to a circumscribed space, near the little
knoll upon which the Indians had stood when the fatal volley was
discharged at them.
Then this rustling ceased, and another sound took its place. Castor
uttered a grunt of dismay, as though he comprehended the meaning
of this. Wilson whispered:
"What is it, Tobe?"
"Wait an' you'll see soon a plenty. Cuss the pesky imps!" and the old
scout fairly ground his teeth with intense ire.
And in the course of a few moments they did see, sure enough. A
faint, flickering glow—not a blaze, at least visible to them—shone
forth upon the knoll, only a few yards distant from its crest. At this
moment, Stevens and Wilson divined the truth, as Castor had
already done.
The Indians were building a fire!
Their object in thus doing was plain. They felt assured their enemy
had not fled, and by this light they counted upon discovering their
covert, without serious risk to themselves.
"Cuss the imp!" hissed Castor, wrathfully. "He's hid behind a rock or
log or somethin' else, or I'd soon sicken the dog, fer good. But we
must git out o' here, jest the quickest!"
"But how? Surely they wouldn't leave a path open for us? They must
have surrounded us, to guard against any move like that," muttered
Wilson.
"I know thet—I ain't sech a pesky fool as to make a run fer it, yit. But
ef we stay here tell thet light bleezes up—as 'twill shortly—we're
gone suckers, fer shore! But we must git over the log, here. Thar's a
big fork in it, whar we kin hunker down, an' hev the bushes fer kiver,
too. Then they cain't rout us out 'thout makin' a rush fer it; which they
won't be apt to do afore day, anyhow. So up with ye, one at a time,
an' git the wimmen onder kiver."
"You go first—if you know where the fork is."
"I'd orter know—seein's as how I durned nigh broke my neck over
the pesky thing a-tumblin' down whar we run up, a bit ago. But when
you come, don't make no n'ise, 'less you'll hev a load o' lead in your
karkidge as 'll be mighty onhandy to kerry about."
So speaking, the old scout cautiously rose up and crawled upon the
log. The fire was now blazing up quite briskly, and already casting
out a circle of light that nearly reached the tree-trunk. There was no
time to be lost.
Jennie was still half-senseless, and, stooping, the old scout gently
raised her in his arms, and, in a low, guarded whisper, bade the
other two women follow him. Though trembling with apprehension,
they obeyed, without a word.
Castor glided through the bushes, along the log for a few paces, and
then pausing, lowered Jennie to the ground. It was a narrow space
between two forks of the tree, that were here some two feet in
thickness, while over and around them, grew a dense fringe of
bushes and vines.
There was ample room for the entire party, and while hidden from
the enemies' view, by lying down, they were protected in a great
measure from any bullets that might be discharged into their covert.
Upon this fact Tobe had counted when he determined to remove
from the spot rendered untenable by the rapidly-increasing light of
the fire.
The women safe placed, Castor turned and whispered to his
comrades. Wilson was already over the log, and Stevens speedily
followed his example. Then they sought the new refuge, where they
knelt down with senses upon the keen alert, and rifles ready for use.
"You wimmen keep cluss," continued Castor. "Them pesky reds is
mighty keerless, sometimes, an' one o' thar bullits mought chaince to
hit ye. Hurt, too, they would; bet yer life they do!"
"What do you think they will do now?" anxiously queried Wilson.
"Don't know. Tell you better a'ter a bit. But then you'll know jest as
soon's I will, come to think o' it. Hist! jes' lis'en to thet!"
This exclamation was drawn forth by a series of sounds that
suddenly broke the stillness of the forest. They seemed to come
from every point of the compass, forming a terribly-significant
concert, when the listeners so well knew the true performers.
The faint howling as of wolves; the whistle of the night-hawk; the
chirp of the tree-toad or ground squirrel; the mournful cry of the rain-
crow—with still other sounds, came from the forest depths, telling the
fugitives that their foes were upon the alert—that they were
surrounded by a cordon of bloodthirsty and cunning enemies, whose
every power would be strenuously exerted to wreak a fearful
vengeance upon the slayers of their fallen comrades.
The fire blazed higher and more brightly, casting a flood of light over
all surrounding objects, plainly revealing the long log, behind which
crouched the fugitives. But still, not a trace of the savages could be
seen, though keen and practiced eyes swept every foot of the
ground revealed.
Then the signals abruptly ceased, and even the fire appeared to
burn without noise. A stillness as of death swept over the forest. The
moment of action was evidently nigh at hand.
"Keep your eyes peeled, boys," muttered Tobe Castor, as his teeth
clenched and his eyes glittered with a strange glow. "They know jest
about whar we be, an' 'll show thar hands 'fore long. Plug the fust
varmint as you kin draw a bead on, but don't waste 'ary shot."
It was evident that the savages had determined upon the position of
the fugitives, but then a wide stretch was given them, for the log was
some fifty or sixty feet in length, the entire body of it fringed with
bushes, any point along it sufficiently dense for the fugitives to hide
in. This fact alone kept the Indians from making a desperate onset at
once.
Then a rifle-shot rung out from the gloom beyond the broad circle of
light. The bullet sunk with a dull thud into the decayed log, some feet
from the fugitives.
Another and another rung forth, from different points of the compass,
but still not a cry or a sound came to tell the Indians of the exact spot
occupied by their intended victims. One of the bullets tore its way
through the cheek of Tobe Castor, but he did not flinch or move, save
to brush the hot blood from his eyes.
Then a series of cries ran along the cordon of dusky warriors. Its
meaning was comprehended by the old scout, who muttered:
"It's comin' in airnest, now, boys! Pick yer game an' drap it. Then
load up, ef you hev time."
The words still hissed upon his lips, when a wild whoop resounded
from every side of their position; and then a number of dusky figures
appeared in view. But they did not advance boldly; instead, they
sprung from side to side, yelling frightfully and brandishing their
weapons in the air above their heads.
Castor was too wise a veteran to be fooled in the manner they
evidently counted upon. His hands checked the less experienced
men, whose eyes were already glancing along their rifle-barrels.
"Don't shoot—fer yer lives don't shoot yit!" he hissed, warningly.
"They on'y want to find out whar we be. Don't ye see? Wait ontil they
make a gineral rush."
His prudence was soon confirmed, for like magic the yelling crowd
and the dim, phantom-like figures disappeared as though they had
sunk into the ground. Evidently the red-skins were puzzled, knowing
now that either their prey had fled, or else were far more cunning
then they had given them credit for.
Thus another half-hour expired, and still no direct assault was made,
although an occasional shot was discharged into the bush-screened
log. An overruling Providence seemed to shield the fugitives, for as
yet, the crease upon Tobe Castor's cheek was the only wound the
party had received, though more than once the hissing missiles had
passed so close that their venomous whistle could be distinguished
by the besieged.
Then Tobe gave a faint hiss. His comrades gazed in the direction his
finger pointed, and they beheld a faint, shadowy figure upon the
ground, at only a few yards' distance. Under other circumstances
this would hardly have been noticed, or if so, would have been
thought a mere shadow; but now, with his senses sharpened by
peril, Castor knew that it was the form of an Indian, who was
crawling up toward them, evidently with the intention of learning their
exact position; a sort of forlorn hope, in which he risked his life to
benefit his comrades and work the ruin of his foes.
"Leave the imp to me," muttered Tobe; "keep a good look-out on
your side fer more o' the same sort. Don't let 'em fool ye!"

CHAPTER VIII.
A STROKE FOR VENGEANCE.
With painfully throbbing heart, Fred Wilson left his companions and
hastened along the narrow Trace toward the blazing cabin, to learn
the fate of his family. He dreaded the worst, for a strange sensation
of coming evil weighed heavily upon his mind.
He was not given to superstition or a belief in omens, but now it
seemed as though the spirit of some loved one was hovering around
him. A firm belief assailed him that he was doomed to suffer some
deep and bitter loss.
And in vain he strove to cast this thought aside; it would return
despite himself. And from a fancy, it became a settled conviction.
Still it did not prevent him from displaying his usual caution and skill,
and he glided along the path, dark and gloomy though the woods
were, with almost the certainty and ease he would have displayed in
broad daylight. Only at times could he distinguish the reddish glow of
the blazing cabin; at others the densely clustering boughs concealed
it from his vision.
In this manner he had proceeded over half a mile, when he fancied
he heard the faint sound of cautious footfalls before him. Instantly
pausing, he bent his ear to the ground. He was not deceived; some
person or persons were coming toward him.
With a wild hope in his heart, the young scout softly drew to one side
of the Trace, and crouched down beside the trunk of a large tree, in
such a position that the passers-by, whoever they might chance to
be, would be momently outlined against a rift in the tree-tops
beyond.
The catlike footfalls came nearer, and then the travelers passed
before him. In the first one he recognized an Indian. He could just
distinguish the nodding plumes upon his head.
And then the next one he noticed was the same. But he had,
unfortunately, looked one moment too long upon the first passer. By
so doing, he only caught a faint glimpse of the second. The last he
saw more closely.
There were only three in number, and he believed them all Indians.
Had he known the truth, the entire course of the after events of that
memorable night would have been changed; perhaps for the better.
For had he known that his friend, John Stevens, was of the number,
he would have dared all to rescue him, and thus learn definitely how
the young settler's mission had terminated. But he was not aware of
this, and so suffered them to pass by, unchallenged.
Fred then arose and pressed rapidly on, his mind filled with
conflicting emotions. This party were coming direct from the burning
building; then what was he fated to find there? All was still in that
direction. Was the tragedy over?
And then the young man paused upon the edge of the clearing. With
wildly-beating heart, he gazed out upon the scene of destruction that
lay before him.
The cabin was one mass of glowing coals, though as yet the walls
were standing. And though his eyes roved keenly around upon the
smooth ground before the building, the dreaded sight met not his
gaze. He had feared he would behold the dead and mangled corses
of his family lying there, weltering in their blood.
But, as we know, this sight did not greet his eyes, and he derived
some faint consolation from it. All might not yet be lost.
And with these thoughts, he began cautiously circling around the
clearing, too wise to venture within the broad circle of light, while
ignorant whether there might not be a score of his enemies lurking
near, watching for some other unwary victim.
He had gained a position nearly opposite the point where he had first
stood, when he received an evidence of the prudence of his caution.
A tall, dark form emerged from the shadows near the mouth of the
Trace, and then strode rapidly toward the building.
Just then the walls fell in with a loud jar, and as the sparks ascended
skyward in a dense cloud, the blaze burst out afresh, and cast a still
more brilliant light over the scene. By its aid, Fred could see that the
new-comer was an Indian, and an angry glow filled his heart, as he
reflected that this same savage might have been an active agent in
the death of his family. For the young man still believed that he
would find them dead. In no other way could he account for the
strange depression that weighed upon his spirits.
And he resolved that this one, at least, should never live to boast of
his bloody deeds. He should die, and by his hand. And then he set
about compassing this end.
In this point again Fortune seemed favoring him. The red-skin stood
motionless for a moment, his eyes roving keenly around the clearing;
then his tall form stooped, and he glided to and fro, evidently
searching for some sign.
Fred waited in eager anticipation for a moment more favorable than
this, although the range was short, and he could easily have picked
off the savage with his rifle. But this was a move he did not fancy, as
he did not know how many red-skins might be within hearing, and
with the lives of others partly depending upon him, Fred dared not
run the risk of a shot. The blow must be dealt with cold steel, if at all.
The red-skin ceased his zig-zag movements, and now proceeded in
a direct line. Fred knew that he was following some trail, and to his
stern delight, found that trail led the Indian toward the Lower Trace.
With sternly-compressed lips and eyes glowing with a strange light,
the young scout glided rapidly toward the point where the Trace
began, a long, keen knife firmly clenched in his hand. He was none
too soon, for scarcely had he crouched behind a tree-trunk, than the
Indian entered the bushes, his head still bowed toward the ground.
Then he paused, with a slight grunt, as of disappointment. It was
none other than the petty chief who had been with One Eye, or
Sloan Young, and who had started off to put Dusky Dick upon the
watch when it was found the Stevens family had fled.
Fred Wilson collected his energies and sprung upon the unprepared
red-skin, knife in hand. Ere the assailed could lift a finger in self-
defense, the keen weapon hissed through the air and then buried
itself, with a peculiar thud, deep in his broad chest.
A low, gurgling cry arose to his lips, but then died away with the gush
of blood that filled his throat. Then, as the knife was withdrawn, the
tall form, so lately full of life and strength, tottered and sunk to the
ground, a lump of lifeless clay.
"You are the first one—but will not be the last, by many more!"
muttered the young scout, with a terrible depth of hatred and
revenge in his tones, as he stooped over the dead man and adroitly
removed his scalp.
Then he suddenly sprung erect. A significant sound met his ear. A
rifle-shot—an Indian yell, at no very great distance.
It apparently proceeded from near the spot where he had left the
Stevens family, and Fred feared they had been discovered by the
Sioux. He could do no good by remaining here, as there were no
traces of his family, and he resolved to return at once, though fearing
it would be too late.
The young scout was not one to hesitate, when once his mind was
made up, and securing the gory scalp to his waist, he entered the
forest once more, gliding with speedy footsteps toward the point
where he had left his friends in hiding. Still, despite his rapid
progress, he was too late.
As he neared the covert, he uttered the signal agreed upon, but
without an answer. Then he crept forward to the clump of bushes. He
parted them and peered inside. They were untenanted by those
whom he sought.
Fred stood in angry disappointment, not unmingled with
apprehension. He did not know whether Stevens had disobeyed his
strict injunctions, and ventured forth in an attempt to escape
unaided, or whether he had been surprised and taken prisoner, and
he dared not strike a light to discover, lest it should prove a beacon
to guide a treacherous bullet or arrow to his life.
Then, as he stood there, another sound met his ear; one similar to
that which had drawn him from the clearing, only louder and more
protracted. Two single rifle-shots and then what seemed a united
volley, accompanied by wild yells and whoops.
There could be no mistaking this. He knew that one party, at least, of
his friends had been attacked by the Indians; most likely those whom
he had taken under his own charge.
He did not hesitate, only long enough to determine the direction and
probable distance of the strife from where he stood, and then
pressed forward toward it, with as much speed as was consistent
with safety. And now he displayed in an astonishing degree, the skill
he had attained, thanks to the instructions of Tobe Castor.
He glided through the forest at a half-run, with apparently as much
ease and celerity as though the intense gloom was replaced by
broad daylight, seeming to avoid the tree-trunks and other obstacles
by intuition. And his footfalls made scarcely more noise than those of
the deer, traversing its course with unhasted steps.
Fred could still distinguish the faint sound of yells and cries, as
though the strife still continued, though there were no more rifle-
shots. This fact puzzled him not a little, though he did not slacken his
pace.
Then the yells seemed to shift places, continuing only for a few
moments; then dying entirely away. Then again came the loud
reports of firearms, with shrill howls of anguish and terror. The plot
was becoming somewhat tangled and complicated, and Fred's
wonder increased.
Still he proceeded, though more deliberately, for under the
circumstances he thought prudence was the wisest course for him to
follow. Then he uttered a little exclamation as his foot struck against
something yielding. There could be no mistaking this peculiar touch;
he knew that he was standing over a corpse!
A convulsive shudder ran through his frame as he leaped back
apace; but then he conquered this involuntary repugnance, and
advancing, stooped over the form. Eyesight could avail him nothing
here; the sense of feeling alone must be depended upon.
His hand touched the body, and a thrill pervaded his form as his
fingers rested upon a soft, slimy substance. He knew it was blood,
fast coagulating. Then a glad hope filled his heart as his hand
encountered the smooth-shaven crown, with the long scalp-lock of
an Indian. Perhaps his friends had not perished, after all!
He slowly moved away from the corpse, feeling along the ground
with his feet, but for some moments, felt in vain. Then he again
touched something that he knew was another victim.
Stooping, his hand rested upon the unmistakable dress of a white
man. Gliding up the body, he then felt of the face. The long heavy
beard there confirmed his suspicions. He felt assured that the dead
body of Wesley Stevens lay before him.
And then a low cry of agonizing horror broke from his lips, as he
touched a woman's dress. He staggered back and sunk to the
ground, trembling and unnerved. He feared the worst. He dreaded to
move, lest he should find the dead and mangled corse of his loved
one—of sweet Jennie Stevens.
But then with an effort he aroused himself, and without a thought for
the danger he might thus incur, he struck a match and bent over the
forms of the ill-fated fugitives. By its faint flickering rays, he
recognized the father and mother; the light also showed him the bare
and gory skulls where the scalps had been ruthlessly torn away.
He only saw this much, when the match burned to his finger tips and
then expired. Tremblingly he essayed to light another, but he was too
greatly unnerved. He sunk down upon the blood-stained ground and
covered his eyes as though he would shut out the horrible vision that
filled his brain.
It was a moment of frightful torture, and it seemed as though he
would go mad. He believed that the dear one, whom he loved better
than his own life, was lying near at hand, dead—murdered like her
parents.
But then with an effort he aroused up. Though sick at heart, his
hands were steady as he struck another match. He had nerved
himself to bear the worst, now.
The light cast a faint glow around, but the dreaded sight did not meet
his staring eyes. As he strode around the spot hope sprung up in his
heart, once more.
A whip-like report broke the stillness of the air, so close that Fred
started back and dropped the match, believing that he had been the
target. But then he beheld his mistake, as another and yet another
shot rung out at some little distance to his left. He also heard shrill
yells, that he knew could only proceed from the throats of red-skins.
His eyes flashed instinctively and he clutched his rifle with a firm
grip. He remembered now the second series of shots and yells he
had heard; these were probably a continuation of those. If so, then
the savages who had slain his friends were yet at hand, and if Jennie
was taken a prisoner, she must be there also.
If so, perhaps he could effect her rescue now. But then who could be
the ones at whom the shots were fired? His family? Fred uttered a
low cry of eager hope as this idea flashed across his mind.
The young scout listened for a moment, and then glided forward in
the direction from whence came the sounds. Scarcely had he made
the first step, when the cries died away. But still advancing, Fred
soon caught a glimpse of a bright light before him.
More cautiously he crept on, every sense upon the keen alert, until
he paused beside a huge tree whose butt was surrounded by a
dense growth of bushes, and then gazed out upon the scene. He
beheld a huge bonfire, blazing upon a slight knoll. But not a living
figure was in sight.
Then as he gazed, a dark figure glided between him and the fire; the
light shining brightly, revealed the features of an Indian. Then, like, a
shadow, this melted away. The stillness began to be oppressive, and
Fred could scarcely comprehend the drama that was being enacted
before him.
Leaving the tree, he glided stealthily along through the gloom,
intending to incircle the bonfire, and discover, if possible, who were
attacked by the Indians. He knew there were enemies close about
him, and he brought his keenest powers into play, making scarcely
more noise than would have done a serpent.
He had gone but a few yards, when he heard a slight rustling a little
to one side, and, pausing, he speedily distinguished the form of a
man, evidently a red-skin. It seemed as though he must be
discovered, and Fred drew his limbs together for the emergency; but
the savage brushed past him, almost close enough for their
extended arms to have met. If he saw the dusky figure of the young
scout, he evidently mistook it for one of his own comrades.
With a long-drawn breath of relief, Fred passed on, his eyes roving
keenly in every direction. Keeping at a certain distance from the fire,
he had covered nearly one-fourth of the distance necessary for a
complete circuit, when a new peril threatened him; one that he did
not see in time to avoid.
He noted the form of an Indian coming toward him, just without the
circle of light. Anxiously he watched the movements of this foe. He
could not retreat, as that would only subject him to suspicion, and
the red-man was so close that the slightest movement would be
heard.
And yet the savage was coming directly toward him. Fred crouched
lower and drew his knife partly from its sheath. He had not time for
more, when the savage paused directly beside him, his eyes bent
upon a long line of bushes at but a few paces distance. Then he
spoke in a low tone, using the Sioux dialect.
"Gray Bull is creeping up to find the pale-faces. Let my brother keep
his rifle ready to shoot them as they spring up."
Fred did not reply, lest his voice should betray him, but he stealthily
drew his knife from its sheath. Then the savage turned toward him,
in evident surprise at not being answered.
The fire blazed up afresh, as the topmost sticks broke and fell down.
A ray of light penetrated the bushes, and fell fairly athwart the pale
features of the scout and those of his copper-tinted companion.
Fred beheld the wondering look—the quick change that told of
recognition, and knew that only the promptest action could preserve
his life. His left hand shot out and clutched the throat of the red-skin,
and then the keen knife hissed through the air.
But with a sudden start back, the Indian freed his throat in time to
utter a wild yell of alarm, ere the weapon drank his life's blood. Then
for a brief moment all was still.
Then a single rifle-shot rung out, and Fred felt the bullet crease his
neck. He knew that he was discovered and leaping to his feet he
leveled his rifle at an advancing Indian and fired. Then with a hoarse,
defiant shout, mingled with a death-yell from the stricken savage, he
turned and fled from the spot.
A frightful tumult arose, and the woods echoed with the swift, heavy
tramp of the Sioux as they dashed in hot pursuit after their daring
foe.

CHAPTER IX.
OUT OF THE TRAP.
Tobe Castor keenly watched the slowly approaching red-skin. He
could long since have disposed of him by a rifle-shot, had he felt so
inclined; but that he did not choose to do. If he did, then the main
object of the savages would be accomplished. Once given the exact
position of the pale-faces, such a storm of bullets would be poured in
upon them that death would be inevitable.
The old scout had decided upon a plan of action that he believed
might work, though the chances were greatly against it. He saw that
the red-skin would strike the bushes, if he maintained the course he
had begun, at only a few feet from where crouched the fugitives.
The bushes, interlaced with vines and creepers, were very dense,
and a person standing close upon the outside could not perceive
those within, by night, unless he first parted the screen. This was
what the savage would have to do, in case he accomplished his
object.
Castor hoped to be able to quiet this dangerous customer with the
knife, and so quietly that those who were watching his progress,
would still be at a loss as to their exact whereabouts. It would be
difficult, though he believed it could be done.
Warning his comrades by a gesture to remain perfectly quiet, the old
scout moved along by slow degrees so as to intercept the savage.
When the point was gained directly in front of the creeping figure,
Castor paused and prepared his knife for use.
But the trial was not yet to come. A strange and unexpected
interruption came and afforded the besieged a respite, none the less
welcome, because unlooked for.
There resounded a hoarse, gurgling yell—a rifle-shot—another; and
then the defiant shout in the unmistakable voice of a white man.
Following, came wild cries and whoops from the red-skins.
It was indeed the discovery of the young scout, Fred Wilson,
although his friends did not know it. And a most fortunate occurrence
it proved to be, at least for them.
The savages were bewildered and knew not what to make of the
affair. But then all seemed clear.
The strange silence of the pale-faces was now explained. They no
longer wondered that no reply had come from the bush-screened
log, when they had so plentifully bestowed their leaden favors upon
it. They had been upon a false scent, all the time. The hated pale-
faces were not there, but had given them the slip, and but for a
fortunate discovery would have crept entirely away and left them in
the lurch.