Sigmund broke off from his song to hurl oaths and firewood at the
animals. Then the light was parted by a fur-clad figure, and an Indian
girl slipped out of the webs, threw back the hood of her squirrel-skin
_parka_, and stood in their midst. Sigmund and the men on the bearskin
greeted her as "Sipsu," with the customary "Hello," but Hitchcock made
room on the sled that she might sit beside him.
"And how goes it, Sipsu?" he asked, talking, after her fashion, in broken
English and bastard Chinook. "Is the hunger still mighty in the camp?
and has the witch doctor yet found the cause wherefore game is scarce and
no moose in the land?"
"Yes; even so. There is little game, and we prepare to eat the dogs.
Also has the witch doctor found the cause of all this evil, and to-morrow
will he make sacrifice and cleanse the camp."
"And what does the sacrifice chance to be?--a new-born babe or some poor
devil of a squaw, old and shaky, who is a care to the tribe and better
out of the way?"
"It chanced not that wise; for the need was great, and he chose none
other than the chief's daughter; none other than I, Sipsu.
Pages:
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167