The girl listened to the charge, as detailed by the head chief, with the greatest possible composure. When he had ended, she pointed at Wormley, with a glance of ineffable scorn.
“Let the chief believe the words of that man,” she said, “and Dove-eye is sure that he will never again be believed among the Arapahoes. Let him believe the words of a lying trader, and the words of a sneaking vagabond who was never believed before. Are these not better than Dove-eye, whom the chief has never known to lie? Let me carry the sand and the wood and elk-chips into the medicine-lodge, and let the warriors cut me in pieces as I pass among them. Come! If Dove-eye has spoken falsely, she is ready to die.”
Wormley shrunk back, and the countenance of the chief showed that he was moved by the undaunted demeanor of the girl.
“Why should Dove-eye deceive the people?” he asked. “What could she gain by lying to us?”
“Dove-eye is beautiful,” replied the trader. “Many of the young men of the Arapahoes have sought her in marriage; but she would not listen to them, as she thought herself too good to enter the lodge of a warrior. While the Big Medicine lived, she was allowed to do as she pleased. When he was dead, she wished to become a warrior, that she might still be independent.”
“The lying trader does not tell all,” said Dove-eye, with another of her scornful glances. “He should also say that he sought me in marriage. When I refused to listen to him, he invented this accusation to destroy me. But this is only talk. Words cost nothing, and it is easy to lie. If the Big Medicine is dead, let the Snake show his grave to the old men. When Dove-eye sees his body, she will be ready to die.”
Wormley looked at the girl in astonishment—she was so cool and self-possessed, in view of the fate that awaited her upon the discovery of her imposture. A suspicion entered his mind, for the first time, that his game might not be as certain as he had believed it to be. He knew her to be of a daring spirit and fertile in resources, and he began to fear that she had played him some trick that would confound his plans and render him, instead of her, the victim of the outraged dignity of the Arapahoes.
“Let the trader prove his words,” said Black Horse. “Let him lead us to the grave. If the Big Medicine is dead, we will know his body.”
There was nothing else for it. Sullenly and reluctantly Wormley led the way out of the council lodge, followed by the old men, and accompanied by Dove-eye and his vagabond accomplice.