"You must go back to your people," said Solomon.
Again she shook her head, and, pointing up the trail, whispered:
"They will burn the Little White Birch. No more will I go in the trail of the red man. It is like climbing a thorn tree."
He touched her brow tenderly and she seized his hand and held it against her cheek.
"I follow the beautiful pale face," she whispered.
Solomon observed that her lips were shapely and her teeth white.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"They call me the Little White Birch."
Solomon told her to sit still and that he would bring food to her.
"It's jest only a little squaw," he said to Jack when he returned to the camp-fire. "Follered us from that 'ere Injun village. I guess she were skeered o' them drunken braves. I'm goin' to take some meat an' bread an' tea to her. No, you better stay here. She's as skeery as a wild deer."