The light again came into the girl’s eyes; the color again mounted to her cheeks, and wild joy and hope showed themselves in every feature.
“The Big Medicine of the Arapahoes told me that he was dead,” she replied. “He said that Silverspur was killed by the Crows, and that he saw him slain.”
“The Big Medicine lied, or his eyes were blinded. If Silverspur is dead, he was not killed by the Crows. If he is dead, he must have died within two suns, as the sun has not risen twice since I saw him.”
“Does Burnt Face speak truly, or does he wish to make the heart of Dove-eye soft, that she may take pity on him?”
“Burnt Face has spoken truly. Does Dove-eye remember, when she fought with her warriors against the Crows on the Sweetwater, when the Crows at last charged upon their enemies, and the Arapahoes were compelled to fly for their lives?”
“Dove-eye has not forgotten. Burnt Face was there.”
“Does she remember, when the fighting was over, and she was riding away alone, that she met a white man, and threw her battle-ax at him as she rode past him?”
“I killed him. My battle-ax struck him on the head, and knocked him from his horse.”
“You did not kill him. He had been very sick, and he was so weak that he fell from his horse. That white man was Silverspur.”