“It’s true as gospel!” said Bell, “an’ more, her tongue has been freshly cut out.”
For a moment the two men gazed with pity upon the tongueless creature that confronted them, and Blount was the first to speak.
“What motive could have prompted such a hellish deed?” he cried. “It surpasses all the cruelty I ever heard of. Doc, can’t you tell what tribe she belongs to?”
At this the giant again approached the girl, and taking her hand gazed scrutinizingly into her face. Then he examined her hand, and when he dropped it, he said:
“She’s a Delaware.”
“And she’s far from home, too,” returned the trader. “She must have fallen in with some fugitive Peorias. Oh, God, I wish she could tell her story.”
The hunter did not reply. He leaned upon his rifle and covered his eyes with his tawny hands. The trader knew that he was thinking deeply, for when he gave himself up wholly to reflection and study, he invariably assumed his present attitude. For several minutes the giant remained silent and when he raised his head it was to fasten his eyes upon the speechless Indian girl.
“Where’s Swamp Oak?” he asked.
At the mention of the name the girl started forward, and griped his arm, while an expression of anxiety and fear overspread her face.
“Ha!” he said, glancing at Blount. “I have hit the right trail. I just happened to think of the girl Swamp Oak sneaked from the greasy Delawares a long time ago, an’ I knew, too, thet thet very gal had enemies who would tear her tongue out, ef they got half a chance, an’ so I thought: might not this gal be the one? If you don’t b’lieve it now, Oll, you will d’rectly.”