“A man must do battle for his own people, Sagamore.”

“A white maid may do what pleases her, too, for aught I know,” he said indifferently.

“Why does it please her to roam abroad alone?”

“How should I know?”

“You do know!”

“Loskiel,” he said, “if I know why, perhaps I know of other matters, too. Ask me some day — before they send you into battle.”

“What matters do you know of?”

“Ask me no more, Loskiel — until your conch-horns blowing in the forest summon Morgan’s men to battle. Then ask; and a Sagamore will answer —