CHAPTER VIII.
A LOVER’S MEETING.
Dove-eye was not as slow of sight as Silas Wormley appeared to be. She noticed the signals of Old Blaze, and came to him as the trader left him.
“Did the white hunter beckon to Dove-eye?” she asked. “I am here. What does he want?”
“Dove-eye is as beautiful as she is brave,” replied the hunter, in her own language. “Being beautiful and brave, she must have a heart, and she can feel for those who are in distress. I have been hunted down and captured by the Arapahoes, although I have done them no harm. I did not come here to harm them.”
“Dove-eye has seen Burnt Face in battle, and she knows that he is a great brave. He has killed many Arapahoes, and the warriors would be angry if they should lose him. Why was he spying about the village of the Arapahoes?”
“For no harm, I tell you. Has Dove-eye forgotten Silverspur?”
The girl started at this name. The blood mounted to her face in an instant, lighting up the olive of her complexion with a rich glow, and a fierce light came into her large eyes. Then her long eyelashes fell, and a mournful expression overspread her countenance.
“Dove-eye has not forgotten Silverspur,” she replied. “Ask the Crows, and let them tell you whether he is forgotten. Their women are still mourning for the warriors who have fallen to avenge the death of Silverspur. Was Burnt Face his friend?”
“I was his friend, and still am. What bird has been whispering lies to Dove-eye? If Silverspur is dead, the Crows know nothing of it.”