Silas Wormley had come among the Arapahoes shortly after Dove-eye had joined the warriors. The warfare in which they were engaged was very distasteful to him, as it interfered seriously with his anticipated profits. While the Indians were fighting, death was depriving him of the opportunity of collecting some of his debts, and those who lived were not engaged in such pursuits as would enable them to pay what they owed.
When he heard the story of the visits of the Big Medicine to the spirit-land, he laughed inwardly at the credulity of the Indians, although he knew better than to offend them by ridiculing their pet belief. The second communication of Dove-eye made him highly indignant. He knew that she was an impostor, but could not guess whether she was aided in her imposture by the old medicine-man, who might still be living and deceiving the Indians for some purpose of his own. However that might be, Dove-eye was an impostor, and ought to be exposed and punished.
But Silas Wormley had no thought of exposing and punishing her. A better, or worse, feeling had been stirred up in his breast, and he had become, after his fashion, violently enamored of Dove-eye. He was determined to possess her, by some means and in some manner. He had asked her of Black Horse for a wife, but had been informed that she was a warrior, by command of the Big Medicine, and as such could not be given in marriage. He had, also, been well laughed at by the young braves who had in vain endeavored to induce Dove-eye to enter their lodges.
When Dove-eye, by her second revelation from the spirit-land, had extended her privilege as a warrior, Wormley was decidedly of the opinion that she was going entirely too far, and that a stop should be put to the imposture. Knowing that she must have been imposing upon the Indians, he thought that it would not be difficult for him to obtain proof of the fact. Then he could threaten her with exposure, and thus compel her to accede to his wishes.
With this view he waylaid her, for the purpose of speaking privately with her, and met her as she was walking alone in the forest.
It may as well be mentioned here, that the Arapahoes, recognizing the craft and duplicity of Wormley, had named him the Snake. It was really, in their estimation, a title of honor, and the trader did not care by what name he was called, as long as it did not interfere with his plans of profit.
“How long,” he asked, after a little preliminary conversation, “does Dove-eye suppose that she can deceive her people?”
The girl, who had been meditating upon her imposture, was startled by this abrupt inquiry, and turned upon him with a look of surprise, mingled with alarm.
“The words of the Snake are strange words,” she said, recovering her composure. “What does he mean?”
“You know well enough what I mean. You know that you have been deceiving the Arapahoes for a long time, by representing to them that the Big Medicine has gone to the spirit-land. These Indians don’t know any better than to believe such nonsense; but I have known, all the time, that you have been deceiving them.”