"Ugh! Ugh!" the man was muttering. "It is a daughter of the Mandans.
A good prize!"

As he spoke he rose to his feet and Swift Fawn, shaking with fear, knew
that he was beckoning to others to draw near. A moment afterwards she
was surrounded by a party of warriors. They were taller than the men
of her own tribe, and were straight and noble in shape, but their faces
were very stern.

"They must belong to the 'Dahcotas,'" thought the child. "And they are
our enemies."

Many a tale had Swift Fawn heard of the fierce Dahcotas, lovers of war
and greatly to be feared. It was a terrible thought that she was alone
and in their power, with the night coming on.

"Ugh! What shall we do with her?" the brave who had discovered her
said to the others.

"She is fair to look upon," replied one.

"But she is a Mandan," was the quick answer of another. As he spoke he
looked proudly at the scalp lock hanging from his shoulder, for he and
his companions has just been out on the war path.

"Let our Chief decide," said the first speaker. "It is best that Bent
Horn should settle the question."

"Ugh! Ugh!" grunted the others, not quite pleased at the idea.
However, they said nothing more, and turned away, moving softly with