into his former impassiveness, "that your father was a great chief,
and your mother a pale face, or white woman. She was captured with an
Englishman, but she became the wife of the chief while in captivity. She
was only released before the birth of her children, but a year or two
afterwards she brought them as infants to see their father,--the Great
Chief,--and to get the mark of their tribe. He says you and your sister
are each marked on the left arm."

Then Gray Eagle opened his mouth and uttered his first English sentence.
"His father, big Injin, take common white squaw! Papoose no good,--too
much white squaw mother, not enough big Injin father! Look! He big man,
but no can bear pain! Ugh!"

The interpreter turned in time to catch Peter. He had fainted.


CHAPTER III


A hot afternoon on the plains. A dusty cavalcade of United States
cavalry and commissary wagons, which from a distance preserved a certain
military precision of movement, but on nearer view resolved itself into
straggling troopers in twos and fours interspersed between the wagons,
two noncommissioned officers and a guide riding ahead, who had already
fallen into the cavalry slouch, but off to the right, smartly erect and
cadet-like, the young lieutenant in command. A wide road that had the
appearance of being at once well traveled and yet deserted, and that,
although well defined under foot, still seemed to disappear and lose
itself a hundred feet ahead in the monotonous level. A horizon that
in that clear, dry, hazeless atmosphere never mocked you, yet never