Natsatt had much to think over after he left the Ranger. He could not get the story he had just heard out of his mind. His thoughts reverted to Owindia, and what Klitonda had told him about her mother. She had white blood in her veins, and he had the dim impression that the chief had said her name was Klota. Of this, however, he was not certain. Formerly it was no more than of ordinary interest, as east of the mountains it was nothing unusual for Indians to marry half-breed women. But since he had heard Dan's story he was anxious to know more. He would make careful inquiries, however, before saying anything to the Ranger about the matter. It would be better to find out definitely before filling his old leader's mind with any false hopes.
He noticed that now his companions treated him with marked coolness. They would converse together, but whenever he approached they would either disperse or maintain a frigid silence. Larry, especially, favoured him with surly looks. Revenge was plainly written in his eyes, making Natsatt realise that here was a man who needed careful watching. Such action on the part of these men only caused the young half-breed to be more on his guard than ever. For himself he cared but little. He was accustomed to the brutal tactics of rough, heartless men. He did not fear the entire gang, as in his heart he believed they were too cowardly to offer him any bodily harm. But with regard to Owindia it was different, and he became fearful as he thought of what they might attempt to do to her.
After supper, which was eaten in unusual silence, Natsatt left the building and strolled over to Klitonda's lodge. Here he found Owindia alone, for her father was away visiting several Indian camps. She was sitting on a large bear-skin, gazing intently upon several objects before her, and did not hear Natsatt's soft footsteps. But when she at length turned her head and beheld her lover standing near, she gave a slight cry of joy, and rose quickly to her feet.
"And what is my little one doing to-night?" Natsatt asked, as he enfolded her in his arms, and imprinted a kiss upon her lips.
"Counting the tokens," was the reply. "See, they are all here, the blood-stained arrows the Ayana hunters brought. Owindia keeps them safe."
"Do you think they will ever be needed?" Natsatt questioned, at the same time stooping and picking up the arrows. "My! they are well made, and sharp too."
"But none too sharp for the Chilcats," was the low response. "Oh, that there were ten times the number! then Owindia's heart would be lighter."
"Do not worry, little one. All those Coast dogs cannot harm you now when I am here to protect you. You are not afraid, are you?"
"Not now," and Owindia turned her love-lit eyes up to the young man's face. "But sometimes I have a strange feeling of dread here," and she placed her hand to her heart as she spoke. "It is the same to-night. It tells Owindia that the Chilcats are coming, and will try to steal her away, and kill her people."
"Come, little one," Natsatt commanded, "and let us walk down by the river. You have been brooding too much about the Chilcats. The night is fine, and we will listen to the music of the water, and forget all troubles."