The Doctor was of course absent, and the outcry was no more than the wild yells, which were raised in the first burst of savage disappointment.
But the authority of Mahtoree was prompt to aid the ingenuity of the trapper, in suppressing these dangerous sounds.

When order was restored, and the former was made acquainted with the reason why his young men had betrayed so strong a mark of indiscretion, the old man, who had taken a post at his elbow, saw, with alarm, the gleam of keen distrust that flashed in his swarthy visage.
"Where is your conjuror ?" demanded the chief, turning suddenly to the trapper, as if he meant to make him responsible for the re-appearance of Obed.
"Can I tell my brother the number of the stars?
The ways of a great medicine are not like the ways of other men." "Listen to me, grey-head, and count my words," continued the other, bending on his rude saddle-bow, like some chevalier of a more civilised race, and speaking in the haughty tones of absolute power; "the Dahcotahs have not chosen a woman for their chief; when Mahtoree feels the power of a great medicine, he will tremble; until then he will look with his own eyes, without borrowing sight from a Pale-face.

If your conjuror is not with his friends in the morning, my young men shall look for him.

Your ears are open.

Enough." The trapper was not sorry to find that so long a respite was granted.