Annie-Many-Ponies, sitting beside the doorway of the primitive little
log cabin where the night-journeys with Luis had ended, looked up into
Ramon's flushed face with her slow smile. But her eyes were two deep,
black wells whose depths he could not fathom.

"Where them priest you promise?" she asked, her voice lowered to its
softest Indian tone. "Now I think we make plenty marriage; then we go
for live in your house."

Ramon turned and caught her unexpectedly in his arms. "Ah, now you spik
foolish talk. Yoh not trus' Ramon! Why yoh talk pries', pries' all time?
Lov', she's plenty pries' for us. Pries' she don' make us more lov'
each other--pries' don' make us happy--we like birds that make nes'
in tree-tops. Yoh think they mus' have pries' for help them be happy?
Lov'--that's plenty for me."

Annie-Many-Ponies drew herself away from his embrace, but she did it
gently. Bill Holmes, coming up from the spring, furnished excuse enough,
and Ramon let her go.

"You promise me priest for making us marriage," she persisted in her
soft voice.

Ramon twisted the points of his black mustache and regarded her askance,
smiling crookedly. "Yoh 'fraid for trus' me, that's why I promise,"
he said at last. "Me, I don' need padre to mumble-mumble foolish
words before I can be happy. Yoh 'fraid of Luck Leen'sey, that's why I
promise. Now yoh come way up here, so luck don' matter no more. Yoh be
happy weeth me."

"You promise," Annie-Many-Ponies repeated, a sullen note creeping into
her voice.

Bill Holmes, lounging up to the doorway, glanced from one to the other
and laughed. "What's the matter, Ramon?" he bantered. "Can't you square
it with your squaw? Go after her with a club, why don't you? That's what
they're used to."

Ramon did not make any reply whatever, and Bill gave another chuckling
laugh and joined Luis, who was going to take the gaunt horses to a tiny
meadow beyond the hill. As he went he said something that made Luis look
back over his shoulder and laugh.

Annie-Many-Ponies lifted her head and stared straight at Ramon. He
did not meet her eyes, nor did he show any resentment of Bill Holmes'
speech; yet he had sworn that he loved her, that he would be proud to
have her for his wife. She, the daughter of a chief, had been insulted
in his presence, and he had made no protest, shown no indignation.

"You promise priest for making us marriage," she reiterated coldly, as
if she meant to force his real self into the