He was determined to be revenged, cost what it might, upon the negro, as well as upon Dove-eye and the white man whom he believed to be her confederate. There was but one way of accomplishing this—to expose completely the deception that had been practiced. He was afraid to prosecute his search while Old Blaze was in the neighborhood; but the hunter was to go away at an early hour in the morning, and then the coast would be clear.
He did not stir from his lodge until Old Blaze had left the village, and then he waited until evening before he ventured up into the mountains. He went armed, to defend himself against Jose, intending that the negro should not again take him at a disadvantage.
He carefully reconnoitered the lodge of Dove-eye before he ventured to approach it, but saw nothing to indicate that it was inhabited. He went nearer, and the same quiet and absence of incident prevailed. At length he went to the hut, and looked in at the door, when he saw that the tenement was deserted. He entered it, and the sight that met his eyes convinced him that his suspicions had been well founded.
Among other evidences of a hasty departure, he saw a quantity of long white hair on the stone floor of the cavern in the rear, and a robe of deerskin, covered with strange devices. A closer search revealed a spur lying in one corner—a large and handsome spur, of solid silver, with a steel rowel. This had been, without doubt, the property of Dove-eye’s white confederate.
Leaving things as he had found them, Wormley hastened back to the village, and told the head chief what he had discovered. Black Horse listened to him with the greatest incredulity, and it was not until he had repeated his story, with the strongest possible asservations of its truth, that the chief could be induced to call together the old men.
The trader argued his cause before them with great earnestness, feeling that his money and his revenge, if not his life, were now depending on his success, and at last they reluctantly consented to pay a visit to the lodge of the Big Medicine.
When they reached the lodge, however, and saw the proofs that Wormley had to show them, they were not as easily convinced as he had expected them to be. The cherished belief of many years was not to be demolished at one blow. Even the spur of silver, which he triumphantly exhibited to them, did not shake their confidence in Dove-eye.
“I know the white man who wore this,” said Black Horse as he held up the spur. “He is named Silverspur. He is a great warrior, and is a friend of the Crows. He may have been here. He may have captured Dove-eye and carried her away. If he has been here, that does not prove that the Big Medicine is dead, or that Dove-eye has deceived the people.”
“If the Big Medicine is alive,” replied the trader, “where is he? He was so weak that he could not move, and no one was to be allowed to touch him for six suns; but he is not here.”