ar, an' gettin' ready. They made 'braves' nigh every
week, an' their Sun Dances was the greatest ever known. They danced
Ghost Dances, too, to keep away Evil Spirits, I guess, an' things was
goin' real good. Then sudden comes the white folk, an' after a bit they
was all herded on to a Reserve an' kep' there. But that White Squaw
never left her home in the forest, 'cause no one but the headman knew
where she was. She was on'y a young girl then; I guess she's grown now.
Wal, fer years them pore critturs reckoned on her comin' along an'
leadin' them out on the war-path. But she didn't come; she jest stayed
right along with her mother in that forest, an' didn't budge.

"That's the yarn as it stan's," Victor went on, after another pause,
"but this is how I come to see her. It was winter, an' I was tradin' on
the Reserve there. It was a fine, cold day, an' the snow was good an'
hard, an' I set out to hunt an old bull moose that was runnin' with its
mates in the location. I took two neches with me, an' we had a slap-up
time fer nigh on to a week. We hunted them moose hard the whole time,
but never came up wi' 'em. Then it came on to storm, an' we pitched camp
in a thick pine forest. We was there fer nigh on three days while it
stormed a'mighty hard. Then it cleared an' we set out, an', wi'in fifty
yards o' our camp, we struck the trail o' the moose. We went red-hot
after them beasts, I'm figgerin', an' they took us into the thick o' the
forest. Then we got a couple o' shots in; my slugs got home, but, fer
awhiles, we lost them critturs. Next day we set out again, an' at noon
we was startled by hearin' a shot fired by som'un else. We kep' right
on, an' bimeby we came to a clearin'. There we saw four teepees an' a
shack o' pine logs all smeared wi' colour; but what came nigh to
par'lyzin' me was the sight o' my moose lyin' all o' a heap on the
ground, an', standin' beside its carcass, leanin' on a long
muzzle-loader, was a white woman. She was wearin' the blanket right
enough, but she was as white as you are. Say, she had six great huskies
wi' her, an' four women. An' when they see us they put hard into the
woods. I was fer goin' to have a look at the teepees, but my neches
wouldn't let me. They told me the lodge was sacred to the White Squaw,
who we'd jest seen. An' I 'lows, they neches wa'n't jest easy till we
cleared them woods."

"An' she was beautiful, an'--an' fine?" asked Nick, as the trader ceased
speaking. "Was she tha