"My white sister is no captive," said he, calmly. "White Buffalo sat in woods, smoking his pipe, when she came running up, shrieking as if filled with the great Evil Spirit. White Buffalo sorry for her, and as she is like dead he will take her to the Morris home. That is all."
"Did you have a hand in burning down the Digly cabin?" asked another, sharply.
"White Buffalo is at peace with his white brothers—he burns no cabins and hurts no person."
At that moment Grace Chowith recovered from her swoon, and struggled to her feet.
"Let me go!" she screamed. "Let me go. Do not slay me as you did my sister! Let me go!"
"Did this Injun slay your sister?" asked another of the crowd.
"Yes! yes! And her husband too!" was the answer of the poor woman, who did not realize what she was saying. "Moses was shot, and Nellie tomahawked—close to the well. Oh, save me! Do not let him tomahawk me!" And she fled to the arms of one of the soldiers.
Black looks were cast at White Buffalo, and more than one rifle was pointed at his head. He did not quail, but faced the crowd calmly.
"You hear what she says," said one old settler. "She says you killed her sister and her brother-in-law."
"It is false. White Buffalo knows nothing of such a crime."