“He came to tell Mahaska news which he heard only now.”
“News?” she repeated. “What news has Gi-en-gwa-tah which the queen does not know? Did the birds of the air bring it?”
He did not appear to notice the taunt; his determined composure only served to irritate her the more.
“Speak,” she cried, “and have done; Mahaska has no time to waste in talk such as pleases old squaws.”
“Mahaska thought the French chief a bad man,” he said.
“He is,” she interrupted, “a base coward.”
“She wished to break off the treaty on account of it—”
“And it shall be done; Mahaska’s will is the prophet’s; it shall be done. Woe to those who stand in her path!”
“It is not needed now,” he said; “Mahaska has no more to fear from him; the French chief has left the great city.”
“Left? Where is he gone—is he dead?”