"Great Chief Ogâ the Pickerel," she said impressively. "Once Little Eyes do him bad turn never forgive. Him know that. All time Ogâ finish Little Eyes. Police no matter at all then."
It was true. Nell knew that the Red men never forgive an injury and never forget a friend. If Stenson had killed the girl, no length of time, no number of years or miles of distance would save him in the end from the vengeance of Ogâ.
That made a great deal of difference. She could not have agreed to the plan if she had believed it would endanger the girl's life.
So she and David accepted the generous offer and one curious thing happened in connection with this.
When it was settled, she said:
"You are very good to us, Shines-in-the-Night. Your heart is very warm and kind. We have not thanks enough to give you."
"The tall white sister has given me a great gift," answered the Indian; "it lies on my heart and keeps it warm towards her. So that no deed is too much for me."
She put her hand within the leather shirt that she wore under her blanket, and drew out, almost reverently, the Christmas card that Nell had sent her. A hole had been made at one corner, and a deer's tendon, such as Indian women sew with, was passed through the hole, thus hanging the card round her neck. As she brought it out, the faint, delicate scent from the sachet pervaded the air and made Robin lift his muzzle from his paws and wrinkle his nose with little tentative sniffs.
To Shines-in-the-Night this card was the most wonderful and beautiful thing she had ever seen. She believed it to be a miracle, too, a charm of great power, and she knew that the possession of it would give her a sort of status of honour above the other girls and women of the Chippewas.
Nell knew the Indians, but even she was surprised at the immense satisfaction this card had given. Just at a critical moment she bound this girl to her service with a bond almost unbreakable. It was a strange thing.