r passed through her as she felt his touch, and she trembled
from head to foot; then she controlled herself by a strong effort.
Snoqualmie's fierce black eyes searched her face, as if looking
through and through her, and she flushed faintly under their
penetrating gaze.

"She is yours," said the war-chief. "Be kind to her, for though she is
your wife she is the daughter of Multnomah." So much did the Indian
say for love of his child, wondering at her strange, sad look, and
feeling vaguely that she was unhappy. She tried to withdraw her
fingers from Snoqualmie's clasp the moment her father was done
speaking. He held them tightly, however, and bending over her, spoke
in a low tone.

"My band starts for home at mid-day. Be ready to go when I send for
you."

She looked up with startled, piteous eyes.

"To-day?" she asked in a choked voice.

"To-day," came the abrupt reply; too low for the others to hear, yet
harsh enough to sting her through and through. "Do you think
Snoqualmie goes back to his _illahee_ and leaves his woman behind?"

Her spirit kindled in resentment. Never had the chief's daughter been
spoken to so harshly; then all at once it came to her that he
_knew_,--that he must have followed Cecil and witnessed one of their
last interviews. Jealous, revengeful, the Indian was her master now.
She grew pale to the lips. He released her hand, and she shrank away
from him, and left the council with her maidens. No one had heard the
few half-whispered words that passed between them but those who stood
nearest noticed the deadly pallor that came over her face while
Snoqualmie was speaking. Multnomah saw it, and Snoqualmie caught from
him a glance that chilled even his haughty nature--a glance that said,
"Beware; she is the war-chief's daughter."

But even if he had known all, Multnomah would have sacrificed her. His
plans must be carried out even though her heart be crushed.

Now followed the _potlatch_,--the giving of gifts. At a signal from
the war-chief, his slaves appeared, laden with presents. Large heaps
of rich furs and skins were laid on the ground near the chiefs. The
finest of bows and arrows, with gaily decorated quivers and store of
bow-strings, were brought. Untold treasure of _hiagua_ shells, money
as well as ornament to the Oregon Indians, was poured out upon the
ground, and lay glistening in the sun in bright-colored masses. To the
Indians they represented vast and splendid wealth. Multnomah was