"We go where white men and Indians live in peace." "No white man or Indian lives in peace where he goes." Little Black Fox pointed scornfully at the cowering white man. The squaw had no answer ready. But the renegade himself found his tongue and answered. "We go until the white man's anger is passed," he said. "Then we return to the great chief's camp." For a while the young chieftain's eyes seemed to burn into those of the man before him, so intense was the angry fire of his gaze. "You go," he said at last, "because you fear to stay. It is not the white man you fear, but the Indian you have betrayed. Your tongue lies, your heart lies. You are neither brave nor squaw-man. Your heart is the heart of a snake that is filled with venom. Your brain is like the mire of the muskeg which sucks, sucks its victims down to destruction. Your blood is like the water of a mosquito swamp, poisonous even to the air. I have eyes; I have ears. I learn all these things, and I say nothing. The hunter uses a poisoned weapon. It matters not so that he brings down his quarry. But his weapon is for his quarry, and not for himself. He destroys it when there is danger that he shall get hurt by it. You are a poisoned weapon, and you have sought to hurt me. So." Wanaha suddenly stepped forward. Her great eyes blazed up into her brother's. "The great chief wrongs my man. All he has done he was forced to do. His has been the heart to help you. His has been the hand to help you. His has been the brain to plan for you. So. The others come. They take him prisoner. He must fight for them or die." "Then if he fights he is traitor. So he must die." Nevil had no word for himself. He was beyond words. Even in his extremity he remembered what Seth had said to him. And he knew now that Seth's knowledge of the Indians was greater, far deeper, than his. This was his "dog's chance," but he had not even the privilege of a run. The irony of his lot did not strike him. Crimes which he had been guilty of had nothing to do with his present position. Instead, he stood arraigned for a treachery which had not been his, toward the one man to whom he had ever been faithful. But while his craven heart wilted before his savage judge; while his mind was racked with tortures of suspense, and his scheming brain had lost its power of concentration; while his limbs shook at the presentiment of his doom, his woman stood fearless at his side, ready to serve him to the bitter end, ready to sacrifice herself if need be that his wretched life might be saved. Now she replied to her brother's charge, with her beautiful head erect and her bosom heaving. "No man is coward who serves you as he has served you," she cried, her eyes confronting her brother's with all the fearless pride of her race. "The coward is the other. The one who turns upon his friend and helper when misfortune drives."