"For that," replied the other, still standing before the assembled crowd, "I owe him curses more than blessings; for it was in this pale face woman's house--a house now almost destroyed by me and my followers--that, many moons ago, my father was succoured and healed of the wounds he had received, and so brought back to life and to his tribe. And for that I have raised my hand to destroy her dwelling and to slay those who serve her! Shall I, therefore, not rather curse than bless him?" There was a murmur among the crowd--a murmur almost of dismay and horror. For to the Indian, no matter of what tribe or race, and no matter what other wicked or evil passions may abide in his heart, one evil sin stands out as ever to be abhorred by them--the sin of ingratitude; and he who boasts that he never forgives a wrong boasts also that he never forgets a kindness. So it was not strange that those assembled should be much stirred by the words of the Bear. The villain heard the muttering of the rest, as he could not help but hear it; but, assuming still a defiant and overbearing air, he addressed them, saying: "Granted that you speak truth, what is that to me? How should I know that many moons ago this woman's people were good to your father?" and his horrid sneering face looked more evil than before. "How should you know--you who call yourself the Child of the Sun?" said Anuza, advancing some paces nearer to him and with his arm outstretched. "How should you know? Have you not then told us often, us 'the poor dogs of the Shawnee tribe,' that you know all that has ever passed or happened, and that there is nought on the land, nor in the skies, nor in the waters that you know not of? 'Tis strange that this you should not know." "'Fore Gad!" whispered Buck, "the Injin's hit him fair." So, indeed, it appeared the others around thought; and even Senamee, who hated Anuza for being so near him in power, turned towards Roderick with a glance that seemed to bid him answer this question. But ere he could do so the Bear went on again, while the villain writhed at his words. "Yet, oh! my kinsmen and brother warriors, if I have done this thing unwittingly, and with no knowledge of goodness shown to my father by those of her race in far-off days, what shall be thought of one who, also having dwelt under the white woman's roof, has yet turned and rent her? What be thought of one who, coming as a slave to her father's house, was yet well tended; who sat at meat in that house, ay, ate of their food and was clothed with their garments, and, in repayment, assailed first the woman's honour and next, after nursing warm his hate for many moons, sought to destroy her and hers, even to taking from her her house, and her life, and the life of those she loved?"