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danced with David. Trottie' s mother smiled upon the young American, he had travelled, he had read, he could sing, his dress was faultless, his manners Parisian. In the jig, the reel, and the Highland fling he outstepped them all, and his contagious laughter was a tonic. People said, "David the heir will marry the captain's daughter."

Just then the Whitman massacre upheaved the Oregon world. All the men were hurrying away to the war. But David stayed and stood with Trottie before the captain.

"Good God, Trottie! What are you thinking of, to tie yourself up in this unheard-of corner of the world, where Indians come in and massacre settlers without warning! I 'd rather bury you at sea. And is n't that Frenchman waiting for you up there at the Islands? What will he say when I get back to Honolulu? "Trottie turned white.

David was thunderstruck, but Trottie clung to his arm, and the bluff captain dared not send him from the ship. The cargo was not complete; David could hold him a little. He must go to the Champoeg warehouse that day; he felt sure the captain would relent on his return. So David went tearing up the Willamette, revolving a thousand plans for winning his Queen of the Sea.

How impatient the young man was! How snail-like the Indian packers carried the wheat on their backs from the storehouse to the bateau! How slow the swift-glancing paddles beat the foam! "Faster, faster," he cried.

"He is mad," said the Indians, as they tore back down the Willamette. All was hushed save the rapping rowlocks and the rough breathing of the heavy working rowers. Some one hailed him at the Falls. He heard not. His father watched him with regret.