"The man McKenzie thinks to make any trade by treating my warriors as if they were chiefs. They forget I can make black medicine."
"Do they go to find the boat?" asked Bridger anxiously.
"They go. My white brother's medicine must have eyes like the eagle to see so far. He shall give me the medicine that drives out the Water Spirit and I will not ask for gifts from the canoe-that-walks-on-the-water. When does the big spirit leave the Lance?"
Bridger glanced at the flushed face of the sufferer and recalled cases he had treated among his trappers. His answer must be a gamble at the best, as he did not know how long it would require for the men to find the boat and work it up to the chantier. But Gauche was waiting, his small eyes demanding an immediate answer.
"When your young men come back and say the boat is in its place the spirit will leave him," Bridger calmly assured.
"Wait here. I will see a tent is made ready for you," said the chief. This time he was gone but a few minutes. They followed him to a tent pitched within twoscore feet of the sick man's. Motioning them to enter, he left them.
