CHAPTER II. THE GREAT FIGHTING MAN OF THE CROWS.
Although the stranger was apparently indifferent to all that passed around him and seemed half asleep, yet his quick eye had noticed the two guides in conversation, noticed the glances they had cast toward him, and had rightly concluded that they were speaking of him; then, when he saw Dave walk toward him, he quietly turned his head in the direction of the river as if seeking an avenue of escape in case of danger. As if satisfied, he turned his attention again to the crowd near the fort. Dave came up to him.
“How are you, stranger?” said the guide.
“Well,” answered the unknown, in a deep, guttural voice that instantly proclaimed its owner to be a red-skin.
“Is the chief a Mandan?” questioned the guide.
“No,” was the laconic answer of the stranger.
“Sioux?”
“Yes.”
“What tribe?”
“Yancton!” responded the stranger, who, Indian fashion, was sparing of his words.