“I have found out,” announced Elk Horn. “A Frenchman, Marchand, married her. He was killed, I believe, in the assault on the town.” “Yes, I like her. I will buy her of you. Let us make a bargain.” “And the little one?” inquiringly. “Oh, I do not want her. Yet she has some beauty, according to pale-face ideas. But no, I will take only the Indian girl.” They ate their supper of broiled fish, and then smoked in the gathering darkness. Elk Horn deliberated. He had not exactly thought of selling her, though it was often done with female captives. He had two wives now, and did not want to be burdened with a third who was a helpless young girl. Wives were for profit, in his estimation. Black Feather was as wary. He was not sure he wanted to marry her. She might prove turbulent and headstrong. Half breeds were not as tractable as Indian women. And they were not as strong. They might die on your hands, and what, then, would one have for the bargain? “You will take the child. I will not part them. You can spare a trifle more. She will soon grow up.” Black Feather shrugged his shoulders and was silent. “Then there is no bargain,” declared Elk Horn. “I will offer my wares to some other chief. I think of one farther up in the Illinois country. But our ways may be together a few days longer. It need not make ill friends.” Black Feather brought out some whiskey. He knew how to tempt his brother. To have a supply of this for days would be more satisfying than any future gain. For the present was the great thing to the Indian’s improvident nature. And so Black Feather made his bargain, including the child that he really did not care for. Yet perhaps it would be better not to separate them at present. Elk Horn had not slept off all his potion. His compeer was awake early, and had laid aside the promised treasures for his inspection. Then he called his men and stealthily manned his own boats. He judged rightly that Elk Horn would not leave the place until the last drop of firewater had been drained, and then it would take him a few days to get over his debauch. “Come,” he exclaimed roughly, at length. “Here is your portion—beads, wampum, skins and whiskey.” Elk Horn nodded and rubbed his bleared eyes. He looked at the goods and they seemed magnified to his sight, so adroitly were they spread about. “Ugh! It is early,” with a yawn. “I must be on my way. You can overtake me at night. We will share the same fire, and I will have everything prepared for my brother. But I wish you to rouse the two captives and have them ready also. You will lead them to the boat, so there need be no disturbance.” Elk Horn considered. Wawataysee might object to her new master. He felt his part had been rather underhand, but was she not his property? They were a little surprised at the summons, and to be hurried off without breakfast. The canoes were already out in the river. The larger boat had a few men in it. Elk Horn put in Renée first.