These words made a powerful impression upon Percy’s mind.

“Ha!” he cried, thoughtfully. “I remember Multuomah called you the ‘White Lily’—then your face is white?”

“Yes.”

“And Smoholler’s also?”

“Yes.”

Percy became excited.

“Why, then, he is a white man!” he cried.

“I do not know—but he is whiter than any Indian I ever saw.”

“He is a white man!” affirmed Percy, with conviction. “Good heavens! his evident interest in me—can it be? Your father, girl? No, no—we believe that you are Glyndon’s daughter; and for the Prophet, he is—”

It was now Oneotah’s turn to become amazed.