She would know.
“What was Ahdeek to Clearwater?”
“Her sunlight.”
“He slew her people.”
“But he loved Clearwater. He would kiss her in the aisles of the forest, and they have sat by the shores of Gitche Gumee, when Hondurah hunted for the White Tiger.”
“Did Clearwater know that there were two White Tigers?” asked Silver Rifle.
“Ahdeek could keep nothing from Clearwater, he loved her so. He told her that the ring was given him by an old man whose beard was white with the snows of many winters, and that he was to take it to a white girl, who lived beyond the big waters, when he had killed an Indian for every drop of blood which they had spilled from the old pale face’s veins.”
“Is that all he told Clearwater?”
“Yes—no. Old white-beard have much yellow money, which he give to trapper Snowbeard to keep, and papers with writing on, too, he said. Indians kill Snowbeard, and burn down house; so yellow money and talking-papers all gone!”
Silver Rifle sighed.