of winter. And cold. So cold
that even the wolves and foxes had buried themselves in. No fish that
autumn, no game in the deep snows, and the Indians were starving.
Pied-Bot, my heart went dead when I saw Yellow Bird. There didn't seem
to be anything left of her but her eyes and her hair--those two great,
shining braids, and eyes that were big and deep and dark, like beautiful
pools. Boy, you never saw an Indian--an Indian like Yellow Bird--cry.
They don't cry very much. But when that childhood fairy of mine first
saw me she just stood there, swaying in her weakness, and the tears
filled those big, wide-open eyes and ran down her thin cheeks. She
had married Slim Buck. Two of their three children had died within a
fortnight. Slim Buck was dying of hunger and exhaustion. And Yellow
Bird's heart was broken, and her soul was crying out for God to let her
lie down beside Slim Buck and die with him--when I happened along.

"Peter--" Jolly Roger leaned over in the thickening dusk, and his eyes
gleamed. "Peter, if there's a God, an' He thinks I did wrong then, let
Him strike me dead right here! I'm willin'. I found out what the trouble
was. There was a new Indian Agent, a cur. And near the tribe was a Free
Trader, another cur. The two got together. The Agent sent up the Treaty
Money, and along with it--underground, mind you--he sent a lot of
whiskey to the Free Trader. Inside of five days the whiskey got the
Treaty Money from the Indians. Then came winter. Everything went bad,
When I came--and found out what had happened--eighteen out of sixty
had died, and inside of another two weeks half the others would follow.
Pied-Bot, away back--somewhere--there must have been a pirate before
me--mebby a great-grandfather of mine. I set out, I came back in three
days, and I had a sledge-load of grub, and warm things to wear--plenty
of them. My God, how those starving things did eat! I went again, and
returned in another week, with a still bigger sledge-load. And Yellow
Bird was getting beautiful again, and Slim Buck was on his feet, growing
strong, and there was happiness--and I think God A'mighty was glad. I
kept it up for two months. Then the back-bone of the winter broke. Game
came into the country I left them well supplied--and skipped. That was
what made me an outlaw, Pied-Bot. That!"

He chuckled, and Peter heard the rubbing of his hands in the gloom.

"Want to know why?" he asked. "Well, you see, I went over to the Free
Trader's