The old chief came heavily up on the platform with a troubled face and stood beside her.

“Play the beautiful air.”  She played the Traumerei again.

The chief arose, as the last strain died away, and said: 

“My people, listen.”

The plateau was silent.  The Columbia could be heard flowing.  The trees seemed listening.  Benjamin came upon the platform, reeling, and seemed about to speak to his father, but the old chief did not heed.

“My people, listen,” repeated the chief.

A wild shriek of pain rent the air, and Benjamin dropped at the feet of his father.  It was his voice that uttered the cry of agony and despair as he fell.

What had happened?

The boy lay on the platform as one dead.  The old chief bent over him and laid his hand on his face.  He started back as he did so, for the face was cold.  But the boy’s eyes pitifully followed every movement of his father.  Gretchen sunk down beside the body, and drew her hand across his forehead and asked for water.  Benjamin knew her.

Soon his voice came again.  He looked wistfully toward Gretchen and said: 

“I shall never go to find the Black Eagle’s nest again.  It is the plague.  My poor father!—­my poor father!”

“Send for the medicine-man,” said the chief.  “Quick!”

Hopping-Bear, the old medicine-man, came, a dreadful figure in eagle’s plumes and bear-skins.  To affect the imagination of the people when he was going to visit the sick, he had been accustomed to walk upon his two hands and one foot, with the other foot moving up and down in the air.  He believed that sickness was caused by obsession, or the influence of some evil spirit, and he endeavored, by howlings, jumpings, and rattling of snake-skins, to drive this imaginary spirit away.  But he did not begin his incantations here; he looked upon Benjamin with staring eyes, and cried out: 

“It is the plague!”

The old chief of the Cascades lifted his helpless face to the sky.

“The stars are gone out!” he said.  “I care for nothing more.”

The boy at times was convulsed, then lay for a time unconscious after the convulsions, then consciousness would return.  In one of these moments of consciousness he asked of Gretchen: 

“Where is Boston tilicum?”

“He is not here—­he does not know that you are sick.”

“Run for him; tell him I can’t go to the Missouri with him.  I can’t find the Black Eagle’s nest.  Run!”

His mind was dreaming and wandering.

Gretchen sent a runner to bring the schoolmaster to the dreadful scene.

A convulsion passed over the boy, but he revived again.

“Have faith in Heaven,” said Gretchen.  “There is One above that will save you.”

“One above that will save me!  Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Gretchen.

She added: 

“Mother is sorry for what she said to you.”