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You see, I have always known them. But you seem to have taken exception only to Little Black Fox and Wanaha as far as I am concerned. You let me teach the Mission children, you even teach them yourself, yet, while admitting Wanaha's goodness, you get angry with me for seeing her. As for Little Black Fox, he is the chief.
Wanaha's love for her was great, but well she knew that blood is thicker than water, and a savage's blood more particularly so than anybody's else. Once inside the hut Wanaha was the first to speak. "You come? On this night?" she questioned, choosing her English words with her usual care. The girl permitted no unnecessary delay in plunging into the object of her visit.
She heard the rumbling of the wheels of Joe Smith's wagons, but gave no heed to them. Instead, she rode straight on to the south, purposely avoiding the newcomers she was ostensibly going to meet. In a few minutes she drew rein at Wanaha's log hut. She was not without some doubts when she saw that the place was in darkness. But her apprehensions were quickly dissipated.
But now he has gone far enough too far. It must be stopped. The man is getting out of hand. He means to have her." Wanaha's eyes dilated. Here indeed was a terrible prospect. She knew her brother as only a woman can know a man. She had not noted the melodramatic manner in which her husband had broken off. "You say well. It must be stop. Tell your Wana your thought.
For her this was quite as it should be. He would speak presently. She was satisfied. Presently the man flung his papers aside, and the woman's deep eyes met his as he looked across at her. "Well, Wana," he said, "I've sold the wood and got orders for six more cords. Business is booming." The man spoke in English. Yet he spoke Wanaha's tongue as fluently as she did herself.
His delay may have been intentional, yet he had the appearance of deep preoccupation. He quite understood that Wanaha's presence during his story had been deliberate. She had left her own class on some trifling excuse and come out to warn him, knowing that he would be alone with his children.
He says so. He takes Rosebud. Is it for him to marry her? Your brother does not think so." Wanaha's face was troubled. "It was in war. You said yourself. My brother could not hold her from the white man. Then his right is gone. Besides " "Besides ?" "A chief may not marry a white girl." "You married a white man." "It is different."
He even seemed to put more force into it, for the hoe cut into the earth with a vicious ring. But he avoided her direct challenge. "Guess I haven't a heap of regard for no Injuns nor squaws. I've no call to. But I allow Wanaha's a good woman." Just for a moment the girl's face became very serious. "I'm glad you say that, Seth. I knew you wouldn't say anything else; you're too generous.
He had looked for her return when Joe Smith's party came in, only to be confounded by the fact that she had not even been seen by them. That night he had risked everything for her. He scouted till dawn, visiting Wanaha's hut, but only to find it deserted. Finally he returned to the farm, a broken-hearted man, bitter with the reflection that he alone was to blame for what had happened.
"I know," Seth nodded. "You know?" "Yes." "Wanaha is glad. The white brave will watch over the young squaw." The woman smiled again. Seth thought he detected a sigh of relief. He understood this woman as well as it is given to man to understand any woman even an Indian woman. "This wolf won't bother about the gran'ma," said Seth, looking straight into Wanaha's eyes. "He's after the young squaw."
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