Cogewea, the Half-Blood by Mourning Dove

You have stolen the maiden from me, / You have laid your hand upon her, / Hiawatha

Dust-flecked and foaming, the Bay Devil thundered across the bridge at Ronan, to be checked at the livery barn. Dropping the reins, Jim rushed into the office to emerge a few moments later with features more set than ever. Without a word or answer to the inquiries of the surprised bystanders, he remounted and hurried away through the "Lane," where Cogewea and Densmore had ridden a few hours previously. He did not notice the mocking twitter of the magpie as he crossed Crow Creek nor the sporting waterfowl on the various small lakes. The Bay Devil was becoming winded, and to the impatient rider, the road to Ravalli seemed to lengthen out interminably. It was there that he expected to come up with the runaways.