Silence fell on the tepee. The Indians looked at one another. Little Bear finally spoke with bowed head.
“We do the Snow-Burner’s will.”
Nawa, the youngest and strongest of the hunters, turned to Reivers respectfully.
“Oh, Snow-Burner, Nawa serves you with the strength of his leg and the keenness of his eyes. Nawa knows that the Snow-Burner sees things that are hidden to us. Our oldest men say there is no gold here. Other white men say there is no gold here. The Snow-Burner says there is gold near here.
“The Snow-Burner sees what is hidden to others. Nawa does not doubt. Nawa waits only the Snow-Burner’s commands. But Nawa has been to the settlements at Fifty Mile and Dumont’s Camp. He has heard the white men talk. They talk there of a man who carries gold like gunpowder and gold like bullets, instead of the white man’s money.
“Nawa has talked with Indians who have seen this man. They call him ‘Iron Hair,’ because his hair is black and stiff like the quills of a porcupine. Oh, Snow-Burner, Nawa knows nothing. He merely tells what he has heard. Is this the man the Snow-Burner, too, has heard of!”
Reivers looked around the circle of smoke-blackened faces about the fire. No expression betrayed what was going on behind those wood-like masks, but Reivers knew Indians and sensed that they were all waiting excitedly for his answer.
“That is the man,” he said, and by the complete silence that followed he knew that his reply had caused a sensation that would have made white men swear. “What know you of Iron Hair, Nawa?”
“Oh, Snow-Burner,” said Nawa dolefully, “our tribe knows of Iron Hair to its sorrow. Two moons ago the big man with the hair like a porcupine was at Fifty Mile for whisky and food. He hired Small Eyes and Broken Wing of our tribe to haul the food to his camp, a day’s travelling each way, so he said. The pay was to be big. Small Eyes and Broken Wing went. So much people know. Nothing more. The sledges did not come back. Small Eyes and Broken Wing did not come back. So much do we know of Iron Hair. Nawa has spoken.”
“Once there were men in these tepees,” said Reivers, looking high above Nawa’s head. “Once there were men who would have gone from their tepees to follow to the end the trail of their brothers who go and do not come back. Now there are no men. They sit in the tepees with the women and keep warm. Perhaps Small Eyes and Broken Wing were men and did not care to come back to people who sit by their fires and do not seek to find their brothers who disappear.”