"No. No, I didn't. That very next winter after I went away--and that
was the next day after we came here together--an Indian passed where I
was hunting with my master and told me she had died. He was one we had
known at Muck-otey-pokee--the White Pelican. He said a scourge of
smallpox had swept the Fort and this settlement and that my little
maid had passed out of the world forever. But you tell me--_she is
alive_? After all these years of sorrow for her, she is still alive?
I--it is hard to believe it."

Mercy laid her hand upon the strong shoulder that now trembled in
excitement.

"There, there, son; take it quiet. Yes, she's alive, and the most
beautiful woman the good Lord ever made. Never, even in the East,
where girls had time to grow good-looking, was there ever anybody like
her. I ain't used to it myself, yet. I can't realize it. She's that
well growed, and eddicated, and masterful. Why, child, the whole
community looks up to her as if she were a sort of queen. I've found
that out in just the few hours I've been here, and from just the few
I've met. Even Wahneeny--she's here, too; has been most all the time.
The Black Partridge, Indian chief, he that was her brother, that took
care of you two children when the massacre was, he didn't expect she'd
ever come again; but still, it appears, just on the chance of it, he
rode off up country somewhere, and he happened to strike her trail,
and that Osceolo's--the scamp--that had run off with Kitty's white
horse, and fetched 'em all back. The women in the Fort was tellin' me
the whole story just now. I hain't got a word out of Wahneeny, yet.
She's as close-mouthed as she ever was; but there's more to hear than
you could hark to in a day's ride, and--Where you going, Gaspar?"

"To find my Kitty."

"Well, you needn't. And I don't know as she's any more yours than she
is ours, seein' we really had the credit of raisin' her. For she's
took her life in her hand, and has gone alone, without ary man to
protect her, out across the prairie to face five hunderd Indians on
the war-path, and--Hold on! What you up to?"

The sailor, or hunter, whichever he might be, had started along the
footpath to the Fort, and halted, half angrily, at this interruption.

"Well? What? I'll see you by and by. I must find Kitty!"

"Right you are, lad. Find her, and fetch her back. And, say! Mercy
says your own old Tempest horse is in the stable at the Fort; that it
now belongs to the Sun Maid,