othing moved but the round, restless, berry-like eyes of Wachita, his
child-wife, the former heroine of the incident with the captive packers,
who sat near her lord, armed with a willow wand, watchful of intruding
wasps, sand-flies, and even the more ostentatious advances of a rotund
and clerical-looking humble-bee, with his monotonous homily. Content,
dumb, submissive, vacant, at such times, Wachita, debarred her
husband's confidences through the native customs and his own indifferent
taciturnity, satisfied herself by gazing at him with the wondering but
ineffectual sympathy of a faithful dog. Unfortunately for Elijah her
purely mechanical ministration could not prevent a more dangerous
intrusion upon his security.

He awoke with a light start, and eyes that gradually fixed upon the
woman a look of returning consciousness. Wachita pointed timidly to the
village below.

"The Messenger of the Great White Father has come to-day, with his
wagons and horses; he would see the chief of the Minyos, but I would not
disturb my lord."

Elijah's brow contracted. Relieved of its characteristic metaphor,
he knew that this meant that the new Indian agent had made his usual
official visit, and had exhibited the usual anxiety to see the famous
chieftain.

"Good!" he said. "White Rabbit [his lieutenant] will see the Messenger
and exchange gifts. It is enough."

"The white messenger has brought his wangee [white] woman with him.
They would look upon the face of him who hides it," continued Wachita,
dubiously. "They would that Wachita should bring them nearer to where my
lord is, that they might see him when he knew it not."

Elijah glanced moodily at his wife, with the half suspicion with which
he still regarded her alien character. "Then let Wachita go back to
the squaws and old women, and let her hide herself with them until the
wangee strangers are gone," he said curtly. "I have spoken. Go!"

Accustomed to these abrupt dismissals, which did not necessarily
indicate displeasure, Wachita disappeared without a word. Elijah, who
had risen, remained for a few moments leaning against the tent-poles,
gazing abstractedly toward the sea. The bees droned uninterruptedly in
his ears, the far-off roll of the breakers came to him distinctly; but
suddenly, with greater distinctness, came the murmur of a woman's voice.

"He don't look savage a bit! Why, he's real handsome."

"Hush! you--" said a second voice, in a frightened whisper.

"B