"All dose," said he, "w'at you call him?"
"Curve!" we cried.
"Áh hah," assented Buckshot, satisfied.
"Buckshot," we went on, "what does Tawabinisáy mean?"
"Man-who-travels-by-moonlight," he replied promptly.
The following morning Tawabinisáy departed, carrying a lunch and a hand-axe. At four o'clock he was back, sitting on a log and smoking a pipe. In the meantime we had made up our party.
Tawabinisáy himself had decided that the two half-breeds must stay at home. He wished to share his secret only with his own tribesmen. The fiat grieved Billy, for behold he had already put in much time on this very search, and naturally desired to be in at the finish. Dick, too, wanted to go, but him we decided too young and light for a fast march. Dinnis had to leave the River in a day or so; Johnnie was a little doubtful as to the tramp, although he concealed his doubt--at least to his own satisfaction--under a variety of excuses. Jim and Doc would go, of course. There remained Doug.
We found that individual erecting a rack of many projecting arms--like a Greek warrior's trophy--at the precise spot where the first rays of the morning sun would strike it. On the projecting arms he purposed hanging his wet clothes.
"Doug," said we, "do you want to go to Kawágama to-morrow?"
Doug turned on us a sardonic eye. He made no direct answer, but told the following story:--