"Senamee loves much the blood of his enemies," Anuza repeated; "I know not if that exposure will save you. It is more to be feared that he will sacrifice both him and you." "And can he, this chief, Senamee, do this even when you, a chief, and your father a chief also, desire to save us?" "He can do it in one way only," the Bear replied. "He can only do it if I refuse my sanction, since I of all the tribe stand next to him, by slaying me in fight." "And can he slay you?" exclaimed Mary, as her eyes fell on his splendid proportions. "Is there any of your tribe who can overthrow you?" The Indian is but human after all, and on Anuza's usually calm and impassive face there came, it seemed to me, a look of gratification at the praise of his great form from a handsome woman. "I know not," he replied, "whether he can slay me, but this I know, that he must do so ere harm comes to those who are of the tribe of her who succoured him," pointing to his father. "That must he do, for already I am accursed of the god of my tribe in that I have lifted my hand against one who draws her life through another who pitied and cared for my father. To remove that curse, I must hold you and yours free from further harm." The old Anuza, sitting there in the sun, nodded his head and whispered some words to himself in Indian, which we thought to mean agreement with his son, wherefore I said: "But why, Anuza, why, if this is so, did you take part in and encourage this attack upon our village, upon our houses and our lives; why, if thus you felt towards us?" "My father knew not our war trail," replied the chief, "he knew not which way we took our course; he knew not where that false priest, the medicine man, led us. And, oh! white woman," he said casting himself at my feet, "oh! you, who rule over your tribe and these your kin and servants, give your pardon to me who sinned unknowing what I did, and believe--believe, I say, that while I can shelter you harm shall not come near to you. I, the Bear, who has never lied, promise that." I bade him rise, telling him that we would believe in him and trust to him for safety, when in our ears there arose the most horrid din, the clanging of spears on shields, the firing of matchlocks--with which the Indians were well armed, and which they had been taught to use in the days when they dwelt at peace with us--the howling of the swarms of dogs that were in the encampment, and many other noises. "Hark," exclaimed Anuza, "'tis Senamee who goes to take his seat and to commence the tortures"--we started--"but fear not. To you harm shall not come. But you must go before him now. It is best so. Come, and fear not."