Rosebud?"

The man laughed.

"My Wana does not like Little Black Fox to think of Rosebud, eh?"

Wanaha was silent for a while. Then she spoke in a low tone.

"Little Black Fox is not wise. He is very fierce. No, I love my brother,
but Rosebud must not be his squaw. I love Rosebud, too."

The blue eyes of the man suddenly became very hard.

"Big Wolf captured Rosebud, and would have kept her for your brother.
Therefore she is his by right of war. Indian war. This Seth kills your
father. 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."

There was silence for some time while Wanaha cleared away the plates.
Presently, as she was bending over the cook-stove, she spoke again. And
she kept her face turned from her husband while she spoke.

"You want Rosebud for my brother. Why?"

"I?" Nevil laughed uneasily. Wanaha had a way of putting things very
directly. "I don't care either way."

"Yet you pow-wow with him? You say 'yes' when he talks of Rosebud?"

It was the man's turn to look away, and by doing so he hid a deep cunning
in his eyes.

"Oh, that's because Little Black Fox is not an easy man. He is
unreasonable. It is no use arguing with him. Besides, they will see he
never gets Rosebud." He nodded in the direction of White River Farm.

"I have said he is very fierce. He has many braves. One never knows. My
brother longs for the war-path. He would kill Seth. For Seth killed our
father. One never knows. It is better you say to him, 'Rosebud is white.
The braves want no white squaw.'"

But the man had had enough of the discussion, and began to whistle. It was
hard to understand how he had captured the loyal heart of this dusky
princess. He was neither good-looking nor of a taking manner. His
appearance was dirty, unkempt. His fair hair, very thin and getting gray
at the crown, was long and uncombed, and his moustache was ragged and
grossly stained. Yet she loved him with a devotion which had made her
willing to renounce her people for him if necessary, and this means far
more in a savage than it does amongst the white races.

Steyne put on his greasy slouch hat and swung out of the house. Wanaha
knew that what