putting his multiplication sign to the treaty, claiming that land
was like water and air and could n't be bought and sold.
But the white men with true missionary courtesy held his head under
water till he burbled `Nuff,' and signed up with a piece of charcoal.
Then he went down the river to this smooth-faced whirlpool,
and laid a curse on the sons of men who had taken his own from him."

The twilight had deepened. The sun was lost in the cloudbank
out of which a hot wind was sweeping eastward. Vic was telling
the story well, and the magnetism of his voice was compelling.
Elinor drew nearer to him.

"What was the curse? I would n't want to go near that place,
unless you were with me."

The very innocence of the words put a thrill in Vic Burleigh's
every pulse beat.

"Don't ever do it, if you can help it." Vic could not keep back the words.
"Old Lagonda decreed a tribute to the river for the wrong done to him,
a life a year in that pool. And the Walnut has been exacting in its rights.
Life after life has gone out down there until sometimes it seems like the old
chief's curse would never be lifted."

"I hope it may be, while I am at Sunrise, anyhow," Elinor said.
"I don't like real tragedies about me. I like an easy, comfortable life,
and everybody good and happy. I hope the curse will be staid until I
go back home."

Vic hadn't thought of this. Of course, she would leave Sunrise some time.