the bay-tree, on the ground at his feet, scarcely changed its pattern.
Nothing 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.