orrified
eyes missed nothing. She saw that Little One Man and Med'cine Charlie
were amongst the crowd. It was all she needed.

In a moment she had flung herself in front of her Indian's bleeding
body, and whether by design or chance the muzzle of her rifle was
pointing and covering her step-father.

Her eyes were on his inflamed face. They were confronting him without a
sign of fear or any other emotion.

"Don't let that quirt fall on me!" she cried. "I want Snake Foot right
now, and I'm going to have him. Little One Man," she went on, without
removing her eyes from the furious face of the man still flourishing his
quirt aloft, "just cut him adrift right away, and hustle down to the
landing. We're going to pull out--sharp."

But Nicol had recovered from his surprise, and his mad fury suddenly
leapt into full flood again.

"Stand aside, girl!" he roared violently. "This swine refused to obey my
orders and I'm going to teach him--and anyone else--who's master here.
Get out of my way," he bellowed with an ominous threat of the quirt.

Keeko stood her ground. Her two boys had closed in towards her. They
were on either side of her, and a wicked gleam lit the eyes of Little
One Man as he watched the man with his upraised weapon. Keeko knew her
step-father had been drinking. The signs were plain enough to her. They
were all too familiar. But there was no yielding in her, whatever the
consequences of her act.

"Cut him adrift," she cried sharply, to the men beside her. Then to
Nicol her tone was only a shade less commanding. "Let that quirt touch
me, and I won't answer for the consequences. Guess you've no right to
thrash my boy, and I'm right here to see you quit. Think it over," she
added, and, with her last word, there was a movement of her rifle which
added to its aggression.

Just for a moment it looked as though a clash was inevitable. Just for a
moment it seemed as if the man's half-drunken madness was about to drive
him to extremes. But the girl's cool nerve, or more probably, perhaps,
the presence of her rifle, seemed to have a sobering effect. There was
the snick of Little One Man's razor-like knife as he released his bound
comrade from the flogging post, then Nicol, with a filthy oath, flung
his quirt on the ground, and, turning, thrust his way through the crowd,
and strode back to the fort.

Five minutes later Keeko was down at the landing. She was standing
looking on while her Indians cast off the moorin