"Among the Siwanois only." "That is strange," I muttered. "I have never before seen a Siwanois. Where could I have seen a Siwanois? Where?"
But he only shook his head.
Boyd and Mount had pricked forward; I still lingered by the Mohican. And presently I said:
"That was a brave little maid who bore our message to you."
He made no answer.
"I have been wondering," I continued carelessly, "whether she has no friends—so poor she seems—so sad and friendless, Have you any knowledge of her?"
The Indian glanced at me warily, "My brother Loskiel should ask these questions of the maid herself."
"But I shall never see her again, Sagamore. How can I ask her, then?"
The Indian remained silent. And, perhaps because I vaguely entertained some future hope of loosening his tongue in her regard, I now said nothing more concerning her, deeming that best. But I was still thinking of her as I rode northward through the deepening dusk.
A great weariness possessed me, no doubt fatigue from the day's excitement and anxiety. Also, for some hours, that curious battle-hunger had been gnawing at my belly so that I had liked to starve there in my saddle ere Boyd gave the signal to off-saddle for the night.