r ponies floated, belly up, down the river moons ago," said
Matthews.

Twenty pairs of eyes sparkled with hate. That was news indeed!

Lame Foot spoke again. There was a mathematical phase of the terms which
troubled him. "Why should four die for two?" he demanded. "Among the
whites, has a squaw the value of two soldiers?"

Matthews answered gravely that it was so. The brave snorted
contemptuously.

Canada John shook his head. "Thus comes much evil because we shot the
pinto buffalo."

At that point, the hoof-sheaths that trimmed a rope near the entrance
rattled. The semicircle craned their necks. A plump hand was pulling
aside the flap of the lodge. Then, through the low aperture and into the
light of the fire stepped an Indian woman. She flung back a head-shawl
and faced red man and white. A murmur came from the braves. It was Brown
Mink.

As with the men of the band, plentiful food and no exercise had worked
wonders with her. She was less slender and more solid than formerly. Her
full cheeks shone like the bulging sides of a copper kettle. But her
spirit was little changed. She waited no invitation to speak. She paused
for no words. In her earnestness, she leaned forward a little.

"Brown Mink is young," she said. "She is but an unfledged crane walking
in strange waters. But she speaks with the voice of her father, your
mighty chief that was. Canada John talks straight. One of a double
tongue must go. The white chief is very angry, so that he plucks the
hairs from his hands. The squaws must be brought back, or four braves
will be choked by ropes. But who can make things smooth? Only The
Double-Tongue. Promise him much--promise to help him drive the thief
from his land."

Matthews straightened up.

She put out one arm and measured a small length upon it. "When our
warriors come, thus short a space will it take to rid the land," she
said. And was gone before any could answer.

There was a long "Ho-o-o!" of assent.

"What's this all about?" asked Colonel Cummings.

"She wants me t' go," said Matthews.

"Well, so do I."

The Indians conferred among themselves. Suddenly, as if they had reached
a decision, they fell silent and settled back. Lame Foot spoke.

"In the Moon of Wild Strawberries," he said, "the sun is warm and the
grass is growing." He turned to the interpreter. "Ask our brothers to
send the women then, _and follow them_. We shall go free; and as we go,
we shall free the land."

"But if yo