Elijah, momentarily raised from his blanket, saw and recognized her. The
feebleness of a weak nature, that dared not measure itself directly with
the real cause, vented its rage on a secondary object. He darted a quick
glance of indignation and hatred at the young girl. She ran back in
startled terror to her companions, a hurried consultation followed, and
in another moment the whole bevy of girls, old women, and children were
on the wing, shrieking and crying, to their wigwams.

"You see," said one of the prisoners coolly to the other, in English,
"I was right. They never intended to do anything to us. It was only a
bluff. These Minyos are a different sort from the other tribes. They
never kill anybody if they can help it."

"You're wrong," said the other, excitedly. "It was that big chief there,
with his head in a blanket, that sent those dogs to the right about.
Hell! did you see them run at just a look from him? He's a high and
mighty feller, you bet. Look at his dignity!"

"That's so--he ain't no slouch," said the other, gazing at Elijah's
muffled head, critically. "D----d if he ain't a born king."

The sudden conflict and utter revulsion of emotion that those simple
words caused in Elijah's breast was almost incredible. He had been at
first astounded by the revelation of the peaceful reputation of
the unknown tribe he had been called upon to govern; but even this
comforting assurance was as nothing compared to the greater revelations
implied in the speaker's praise of himself. He, Elijah Martin!
the despised, the rejected, the worthless outcast of Redwood Camp,
recognized as a "born king," a leader; his power felt by the very men
who had scorned him! And he had done nothing--stop! had he actually done