“‘No,’ said McLeod. ‘I will never consent to his murder.’
“‘Let us take him.’
“‘I said I wouldn’t,’ said McLeod, ‘and I won’t.’
“It seemed to me that the end had come. Buffalo Horn looked steadily into McLeod’s eyes. McLeod gave him glance for glance. He was ready to die for the word he had passed. The Indian hesitated. It may be that he did not want to precipitate the slaughter. Then he turned, as if to give the signal. Before his hand was raised, however, the daughter of the Indian interpreter of the post pushed her way through the band of braves and stood before their chief.
“‘Listen,’ said she. ‘Have you come to rob the great company of its goods?’
“‘No,’ said Buffalo Horn. ‘We have no quarrel with the great company.’ 127
“She was a slip of a girl, to whom, in sickness and in health, McLeod had been unfailingly kind. She knew no fear, and in intelligence she was superior to all the other women of her race I have known.
“‘Have you come to take the life of this man?’ she went on, moving closer to Buffalo Horn, and looking deep into his eyes.
“‘No,’ said the chief, ‘we have no quarrel with this man. He is a good man, but he will not deliver the murderer of my child.’
“‘Will you take his life because of that?’