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"Fay Larkin?" whispered Shefford. "Yes, Bi Nai." "My God! HOW do you know? Oh, I could have seen. I've been blind. ... Tell me, Indian. Which one?" "Fay Larkin is the Sago Lily." Shefford strode away into a secluded corner of the Square, where in the shade and quiet of the trees he suffered a storm of heart and mind.
But, Bi Nai, the half-breed has a strange step on your trail." "What do you mean?" demanded Shefford. "Nas Ta Bega cannot tell what he does not know," replied the Navajo. "Let that be. We shall know some day. Bi Nai, there is sorrow to tell that is not the Indian's.... Sorrow for my brother!" Shefford lifted his eyes to the Indian's, and if he did not see sadness there he was much deceived.
There it was; I could read for myself! I tried to read it to oblige him, and as I blundered over the words he took it into his head that I was still incredulous. "Nai! nai!" said he, "you shall see the money! You shall count it for yourself!" In vain I strove to convince him that I was entirely satisfied on the subject that he must not go to so much trouble on my account.
"Nai! nai!" cried the enthusiastic dealer in horse-flesh, "it is no trouble. You shall see the money WITH YOUR OWN EYES!" And forthwith he untied the string of the bag, and poured out the shining dollars in a pile on the middle of the table. His good wife stood by, professing to smile, but I suspected, from the watchful expression of her eye, that she did not feel quite at ease.
His mother, a Christian by profession, but not without some remainders of paganism in her heart, seeing that all natural remedies were of no effect, had recourse to certain enchantments frequently practised amongst the heathens, and sent for an old sorceress, who was called Nai. The witch made her magical operations on a lace braided of many threads, and tied it about the arm of the patient.
Then followed a time that was hell worse than fire, for fire would have given merciful death agony under which his physical being began spasmodically to jerk and retch and his eyeballs turned and his breast caved in. A cry rang through the roar in his ears. "Bi Nai! Bi Nai!" His fading sight seemed to shade round the dark face of Nas Ta Bega.
The Indian and the trader and the Mormon all meant more to him this morning. He had grown a little overnight. Nas Ta Bega's deep "Bi Nai" rang in his ears, and the smiles of Withers and Joe were greetings. He had friends; he had work; and there was rich, strange, and helpful life to live. There was even a difference in the mustang Nack-yal.
Eleven horsemen riding into the village! He was amazed, and suddenly keenly anxious. This visit might be one of Shadd's raids. "Shadd's gang!" he whispered. "No, Bi Nai," replied Nas Ta Bega, and he drew Shefford farther into the shade of the cedars. His voice, his action, the way he kept a hand on Shefford's shoulder, all this told much to the young man. Mormons come on a night visit!
"Fay Larkin!" gasped Shefford, shaking his head. "But she's dead." "It would be less sorrow for Bi Nai if she were dead." Shefford clutched at the Indian. There was something terrible to be revealed. Like an aspen-leaf in the wind he shook all over. He divined the revelation divined the coming blow but that was as far as his mind got. "She's in there," said the Indian, pointing toward hall.
But the white man sells him rum and seduces his daughters.... He will not leave the Indian in peace with his own God!... Bi Nai, the Indian is dying!" That night Shefford lay in his blankets out under the open sky and the stars. The earth had never meant much to him, and now it was a bed. He had preached of the heavens, but until now had never studied them. An Indian slept beside him.
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