ile broke over his face.

"My white brothers in the tent of Thunder-maker? They are very welcome,"
he said.

But Holden did not respond to the greeting, as he demanded--

"Does Thunder-maker think that we are fools? Do you think we did not
hear you piping to those vile serpents of yours?"

The Indian looked puzzled.

"My white brothers speak strange words, or it may be that the mind of
Thunder-maker still sleeps----"

"Rot!" interrupted Arnold brusquely. "The Thunder-maker's mind is wide
enough awake. What is the use of lying to us? We know that you put those
snakes into our teepee, and we heard you call them back when you found
that your purposes had failed."

For answer, the Indian raised one of the blankets and disclosed a basket
against which he had been leaning during his pretended sleep. He raised
the lid, looked in, and signed the Englishmen to do likewise.

"See? On their bed of grass my little papooses also sleep," he said,
lifting the basket so as to show the tangle of green bodies that it
contained.

"We can gain nothing by further talking," remarked Arnold to his
companion in an undertone. "The fellow has done us this time, and we
have nothing to support us if we accuse him before Mighty Hand."

"That's true enough," returned Holden. "He is best man this time."

The Indian quietly closed the lid and again covered the basket with a
blanket, after which he looked up with a cunning and triumphant leer.

"White men will eat; then--Mighty Hand take trail for Pleasant Valley!"

How he seemed to gloat over the thought of the terrible fate that
awaited his enemies! Brave men though they were, they could not but feel
a sense of shrinking at the picture that this man's attitude and tone
conjured up. There are times when anticipations of pleasure seem to be
rendered more alluring by reason of description. It is also so with
expectancy of pain. Words may paint that picture in crimson colours so
that our revulsion is intensified before we see it.

"We will gain nothing by remaining here," said Arnold abruptly, as he
turned from the tent, whence he was followed by his companion. And as
the Englishmen departed they heard the Indian saying aloud, purposely to
be overheard--

"The pale-face no' think that he see Pleasant Valley, but fiery totem
call. Fiery totem must be obeyed."

Thunder-maker grinned evilly to himself as he watched the departure of
his visitors. Then he rose up, folded around him a robe o