"No. He never told his name."
For some minutes they smoked in silence. Then rising slowly the old chief went to the back of the lodge and returned with a pouch made of deerskin in his hand. From it he drew a small red morocco-covered book, which he held out to Eagle Eye.
"He lose. Me find. Me keep."
Eagle Eye took the book and turned it over and over in his hands. As he turned its pages he could make out a lot of queer-looking marks and signs, which meant nothing to him. After scrutinizing it carefully but uselessly for a while he handed it back to the chief. The chief waved his hand.
"You keep," he said laconically, "give white man some day."
After another silence he burst forth: "He no red snake, he black snake. Heap bad man. Some day he make heap trouble for Sioux. Bring white soldier—shoot my young men. Wish he killed—wish he come back to my people no more."
Eagle Eye sat smoking silently for a time, then rose and left the lodge.
He heard the sound of voices, and following it came to a great camp-fire, about which a number of young men of the tribe were sitting cross-legged on the ground. He greeted, then joined them, listening idly to the talk that went on among them.
He learned after a time that they were talking about a great hunt that was to take place the next day, and that Red Snake, who had been suffering from a wound in the knee and had gone to Bellevue to see a white man's doctor, had returned the day before and was to accompany them. There was much joking about the presents he had brought them and the fire-water that was to be taken with them on the hunt, and which was to enliven their night camps.
"And where is the hunt to be?" asked Eagle Eye, a quick alarming thought running through his head.