they desired to explore our land they would have asked our
consent," the croaking voice of Kanoona resumed the antiphonal reproach.
"They would not have brought upon us the hordes of British colonists,
who would fain drive us from our habitations for their greed of the
yellow stone."

"Oh, no! never would they make so base a recompense!--to bring upon us
the destruction of our men and women and children, the wresting from us
of our land, the casting of us forth from our homes,--because the poor,
unsuspecting Indians gave them food and shelter and a haven of rest
while waiting for the pettiaugres that are coming up from New Orleans."

"_The pettiaugres from New Orleans_!" Kanoona repeated with a burst of
raucous laughter. "Hala! Hala!"

But Oo-koo-koo preserved his gravity. "They would not lie! Surely the
white men would not lie!"

Then turning to O'Kimmon he asked point-blank, "Chee-a-koh-ga?" (Do you
lie?)

The direct address was a relief to O'Kimmon. He had often wondered to
see the young braves reduced almost to tears by this seemingly gentle
discipline; he felt its poignancy when the keen blade of satire was
turned against himself.

"I did lie!" he admitted, as unreservedly as it he were at confession.
"But Oo-koo-koo, we will pay for what we've got. This is all of ut! An'
faix, yez have thrated us well,--an' begorra, we would have axed yer
consint, if we had dramed we could have got ut!" he concluded
ingenuously.

The two Indians gazed at him with a surprise so evident that a chill ran
through his every nerve.

"We will never reveal the secret,--the place of the gold," declared
L'Epine. Then perceiving in his turn something uncomprehended in their
expression he reinforced his promise with argument. "We will want to
come back--alone--to get more of it--all for ourselves. We will not be
willing to share our discovery with others."

The cheera-taghe still silently gazed at the two young men; then turned
toward each other with that patent astonishment yet on their faces. At
last they burst forth into sarcastic laughter.

L'Epine and O'Kimmon, albeit half bewildered, exchanged appalled
glances. There was no need of speech. Each understood at last.

Return! There was no chance of departure. They were to pay the penalty
of the dangerous knowledge they had acquired. Already some vague report,
some suspicion of the hidden gold of the locality had been bruited
abroad,--thus the Indians must reason,--or these wh