"Ugh! Good! All Apaches say Send Warning is wise. Know what he likes best. Buy young squaw. Braves get killed in fight. Plenty young squaw have no father. All glad to come into good lodge. Have plenty meat. Plenty nice blanket. Old warrior make 'em behave, too. Good for squaw."
The notion of Many Bears was one that fitted him very well, for as chief of the band it was his duty to keep an eye upon the fortunes of its "orphans." There could be no better "asylum" for one of them than the lodge of a wise old brave like Send Warning.
"No," said Murray, after a moment of silence. "Only one young squaw in camp for me. The great chief must let me have Rita."
Many Bears was as nearly startled as an Indian chief could be by the sudden and daring proposal, although it was not at all the same as if Murray had spoken of Ni-ha-be. He pondered a moment, and then shook his head.
"Rita will be the squaw of a great chief. He will bring me many ponies. Heap give."
Any chief in want of a wife would expect to bring rich presents, all the richer if he were to come for the daughter of a great man like Many Bears. Something far beyond the power of a seemingly poor warrior like Send Warning.
"Good," said Murray, calmly. "Heap give. Suppose you say what you think? How big heap?"
There was a grim smile on the face of Many Bears as he turned and looked in the face of his friend. "How much? Ugh! Suppose big chief bring fifty ponies?"
"Good," said Murray. "Go on."
"Fifty new blanket?"