“Doc, I thank you always for advice, whether I take it or not. But see how she faces the demons.”
“She’s grit, no doubt, but then she’s got to make the best of her situation. I don’t care much for her, though I’d like to know what they’ve done with Ahdeek.”
“Your curiosity and fear are no greater than mine, Doc,” answered the Tiger. “But we’ll soon hear.”
The last words were called forth by the return of a guard, who had evidently been sent to the crowd to learn something concerning the new captive and the fate of the half-breed.
Doc Cromer, whose knowledge of the Chippewa language was quite extensive, applied his ear to the crevice and listened.
“Where dark White Tiger?” asked one of the sentries.
“Dead,” was the reply. “He break from stake and run, but the young braves catch him, bring him back and burn him.”
“Who Oagla catch?”
“Silver Rifle. She hunt for ring in big wood near Gitche Gumee, when Chippewas slip up and catch her. Hawkeye wear ring gal lookin’ for, and she killed him for it.”
Doc Cromer waited to hear no more, but turned quickly upon the boy, who was waiting with painful anxiety and interest for him to speak.