“Wacora must follow me further,” signified the Indian.
“Go on, I will do so.”
Maracota led the way, and only paused in his walk when he had got some distance from the dwelling.
“Has Wacora faith in Maracota?”
The young chief started at the question which his guide had put to him in a tone of strange earnestness.
“Yes. I have faith in you.”
“And he would serve Oluski, our chief?”
“With my life!”
“Sansuta is dear to Oluski.”
Again Wacora started. Maracota’s words were enigmatical.