“One minit,” said Will Revel. “You come here for more’n you say, Moorooine. I’ve heerd y’ur name afore. Thar’s a young hunter who ginrully goes with the Scarred Eagle. Have ye seen him called the White Fox, up to’ards the fort?” This was the name by which Brom Vail was known among the Indians.
The Indian maiden glanced curiously into the ranger’s face, and the rich blood mounted to her cheeks and brow.
“Yes; seen ’im,” she answered, dropping her eyes. “He not here, go in canoe with friend, s’pose. Me watch for his coming an’ you watch too. Be careful. Mebbe all of us cheat warriors an’ save him an’ friend.”
“We’ll do our best, sartin,” said Will. “But Moorooine is at fault. White Fox started for the fort yisterday, an’ we’re lookin’ for ’im back.”
The girl’s manner changed at once. A look of deep apprehension appeared in her face.
“White Fox got to fort in night an’ started back early in morning,” she said. “Me see ’im softly (secretly) outside the fort. Much ’fraid Injuns got ’im! Too bad, very!”
Her looks betrayed intense anxiety. And Revel’s was equally great. He saw all at a glance. As intimated, he had heard of the Miami girl, Moorooine, before. The strongest attachment had sprung up between her and Brom Vail. They had met a few months before, when Brom, with his foster-father and a man of the name of Thorpe, were seeking for information affecting the peace of the latter’s mind. Moorooine had afforded the party successful aid, and once saved their lives at the risk of her own.
“Mus’ go!” she said, suddenly. “Mus’ save White Fox if can, an’ rest too.”
“We’ll be on hand, brave girl,” said Will. “If we kin git with Scarred Eagle an’ Goodbrand we’ll find whar Brom is, or die for’t. D’ye s’pose ye could find the Evil Eye?”
“Me try to, an’ den git him help. Ha!” she exclaimed, as her keen glance shot through the bushes toward the rest of the company. “Who that man?”