"Well, once upon a time, a great while ago," he began, "there was a beautiful Injun maiden called the Red Rose. She was the belle of the Sac Nation, an’ lived in the Injun village overlookin’ the Rock an’ the Mississippi, where her people had been nigh on a hundred years. Her eyes were like a limpid spring in the dark woods, an’ all the young warriors were her lovers, for there was none like her for modesty an’ attractive ways. She was as purty as a wild-flower, an’ a great dancer, an’ fleet of foot as the coyote, an’ gentle as the cooin’ dove. Her father’s name was Standin’ Bear, an’ a fierce old warrior an’ hunter he was, but sometimes given to strong drink when greatly tempted. Well, at that time, along about 1800, the early French settlers livin’ on Cuvier River (which is French for Copper), bein’ friv’lous an’ fond of dancin’, as people are now, gave a great ball, an’ white women bein’ scarce, the Injuns were told to bring their squaws. So to please her, Standin’ Bear took Red Rose to the party. Whisky was plenty, as it always is at such places, an’ while Red Rose danced an’ was happy, thinkin’ no harm, Standin’ Bear drunk more’n he should, an’ while in that state a white man insulted his daughter in a way no one could overlook; but when Standin’ Bear sought to punish the brute, he was knocked down an’ dragged out by the scalp-lock, an’ given a kick besides. This no white man nor Injun could endure; but Standin’ Bear, not havin’ any redress, waited till the man come out after the ball was over, when he fell on him with a fierce cry an’ killed him. You’ll say it was murder, but it was the Injuns’ way, an’ without fuss or scarin’ of women. A white man would have gone swaggerin’ an’ cussin’ into the room an’ shot the feller, an’ everybody’d said it served him right. That’s the difference between the two, an’ one’s as bad as the other. After he’d killed the man, Standin’ Bear fled with Red Rose to their village, travelin’ day an’ night till they were safe." "Then what happened?"