Bill, and would have returned
him to the river, but Jeanne prevented. For Wa-ha-ta-na-ta, knowing of
the fatherless breeds of the rivers, hated all white men, and a great
fear was in her heart for the girl, who is her daughter, and the
daughter of Lacombie whom, she says, was the one good white man; but
Lacombie is dead.

"So always in the days of the summer, when these two would leave the
lodge to visit the deserted camp of Moncrossen, Wa-ha-ta-na-ta followed
them. Stealthily and unknown she crept upon their trail, and always her
sharp eyes were upon them, and in the fold of her blanket was concealed
a long, keen blade, and behind the unfailing gaze of the black eyes was
the mind to kill.

"Thus passed the days of the summer, and the hand of Wa-ha-ta-na-ta was
stayed, but her vigilance remained unrelenting. For deep in her heart
is seared the memory of two winters ago, when Moncrossen gazed upon the
beauty of Jeanne, and came to the tepee in the night, knowing I was
away, and Wa-ha-ta-na-ta fought him in the darkness until he fled,
cursing and swearing vengeance.

"Never since that night has the girl been safe, for Moncrossen, with
the cunning of the wolf, is waiting his time--and some day he will
strike!

"But I shared not the fear of my mother that harm would come to Jeanne
at the hand of the great _chechako_, for I have looked into his eyes,
and I know that his heart is good.

"Upon the day before his departure for the land of the white man he
gave to the girl the skin of Diablesse, and then she told him she loved
him, and begged him to remain with her in the country of the Indians.

"But he would not, for he does not love Jeanne, but another--a woman of
his own people, who lives in the great city of the white man. And even
though this woman sent him from her, he loves her, and will marry no
other.

"Listening, Wa-ha-ta-na-ta heard him tell this to Jeanne; but of this
woman the girl knew, for he talked incessantly of her, and cried out
that she would marry another--in the voice of the fever-spirit, in the
time of his great sickness.

"The following day he departed in a canoe, and as he pushed from the
shore, Jeanne handed him his mackinaw, and words passed between them
that Wa-ha-ta-na-ta could not hear from her position behind a log.

"But, as the canoe passed from sight around a bend in the river, the
girl plunged into the woods, and Wa-ha-ta-na-ta returned to the tepee
and made up a light pack and sli