“She thought I was dead. But when she had left the child in the hills by the trail and slipped back to see if she had been followed, and then saw me, with you, she felt that she couldn’t go on again, unless I went with her. That’s what she has told me. And so she planned to get me out of the camp, and I’ve told you how she did it.
“And,” he licked his dry lips nervously, “that’s how it happened; and I reckon that’s about all.”
“The child is to be kept here?” said Buffalo Bill.
“Yes, and be trained up for the high priest of the Toltecs; Itzlan there will see to that. It’s laid on her as a part of her religion to do that, and she’ll do it. The Toltecs felt grieved when she came back with the child, for it was the first they had heard that she didn’t think she would live long. But she says now, has said to me, that since I’ve come back she doesn’t feel that way. It’s queer, ain’t it?”
He stared nervously at Buffalo Bill.
“So I want you to understand it, so you’ll know how it was, and won’t think too hard about me. That Niobrara matter was bad, and likely you’ll think this one worse.”
In spite of all, Buffalo Bill felt sorry for Conover; he could read the mental suffering in his face, which Conover had endured, and he understood the strength of the temptation to which the man had been subjected.
“I suppose we are not to be released?” said the scout.
“She says not,” Conover answered, turning his gaze away. “I’ve tried to get her to change that, but I can’t; it’s one thing she is set on.”
He turned again to the scout.