"Then why on earth raise them? We did not bid you truss us up with these rawhide thongs?"
The Indian shook his head.
"The ears of Swift Arrow are old. They understand not as when he was a brave."
"Your idiom is too much for him, old man," said Holden quietly. "Try him with something easier. Better not let him know that we can speak Indian, though. It might be to our advantage later to know without being known."
"Quite right," answered the elder man. Then he addressed the Indian again.
"We would ask, O Swift Arrow, for what good purpose your braves have bound us. We have been in peril from the waters; we seek the friendship of your land. Is this the way the Dacotahs treat their white brothers when they seek the friendship of your shores?"
The Indian felt the reproach, and his eyes fell for a moment with shame.
"The pale-face speaks words that go right into the heart like burning arrows. But Swift Arrow knows well that all things must be fulfilled. The sun must come and the darkness follow. Then darkness come, and after—the sun again. All things must be as Manito[1] will."
The Englishmen looked at one another with puzzled expressions.
"I wonder what he means by that?" questioned Holden. "'All things must be fulfilled.' What can that have to do with us?"