“This seems hard upon Glyndon,” remarked Percy.
“Why so? He has long considered her dead. Let him content himself with seeing her happy, and, if he is a sensible man, he will do so. Oneotah, as the supposed daughter of the Great Prophet of the Snakes, will receive a consideration among the Nez Perces that would be denied to her as the daughter of a simple hunter. Besides, it makes a tribe, which has been inclined to be inimical, friendly toward me. I must do all I can to consolidate my power.”
“Then you will not return to your home?”
“Never. What is past is past. Discussion upon the subject would be idle. Guy Vere is dead, and Smoholler, the Prophet, lives, to found the greatest Indian nation that has ever existed in this country. I will give you gems that will enrich you and your mother for life; but when you leave me, forget me. It will be best. Oneotah shall go with you, and the survey can proceed, for I will no longer obstruct it. I have changed my views concerning the railroad. I think I was wrong in my calculation of the injury it might do me. I shall return to my village at Priest’s Rapids. Here are beds at your disposal. Oneotah has her own separate apartment. Let us sleep.”
Oneotah withdrew through one of the passages, and the Prophet and the boys disposed themselves upon the couches of skins and fragrant herbs. Sleep came to them speedily.
In the morning they were up with the sun. The Prophet gave Percy a little pouch of deer-skin that contained a fortune in precious stones, and after partaking of a breakfast, and exchanging an affectionate farewell with their strange host, the boys and Oneotah departed. But she no longer wore the boy’s dress and antelope’s head—she had discarded them for the rich costume of an Indian Princess, for was she not going to her betrothed lord?
I have not space to linger over a description of the surprise that their arrival at the camp created, or the numerous inquiries that were addressed to them.
Glyndon could not determine whether Oneotah was his daughter or not, and she showed no disposition to acknowledge him as a father. She had long considered herself the daughter of the great Smoholler, and, notwithstanding what he had said, she still clung to that belief. Percy saw enough in her face to convince him that she was Glyndon’s child, but, under the circumstances, he deemed it best not to interfere in the matter.
Multuomah preferred to receive her as Smoholler’s daughter, and conveyed her to his village, where their nuptials were celebrated with great pomp.
Percy Vere and Percy Cute remained with the expedition until the survey was completed, and then returned home.