Fount: Flying Squirrel, I am glad you are here. I want to speak with you alone.

(Daisy and Squaws exit hastily)

Squir: I am at your service.

Fount: Are you a Medicine Man?

Squir: I am.

Fount: And do you perform spells?

Squir: I do.

Fount: Do you remember a spell you cast for me many years ago, at a time
       when I still respected you?

Squir: Quite well. I cast a spell that guaranteed to supply you with a
       husband. But this was no ordinary love spell. You wanted a man
       whose love would be real. You wanted my magic to find the perfect
       man for you and bring the two of you together. 
       I explained to you that such a complicated spell would take time. 
       It would need to create chain reactions and change worldy events in
       order to succeed. I told you a spell that complex could take up to
       twenty years to complete its causation of improbabilities! 
       You doubted my word and insisted that we write out a contract on
       Sacred Indian Tapesty. It stated if my spell did not provide the
       perfect man for you in a score of years, I would marry you, myself.

Fount: And those twenty years end tomorrow.

Squir: Quite so.

Fount: Ah, poor fool, why did you make the agreement? Did you think you
       were safely distanced from the moment of truth? Twenty years is
       a long time, you thought - but here we are, just the same. No matter
       how far you set an event into the future, twenty, thirty, a hundred
       years, it still invariably becomes the present, just as real as the
       past from which you started.
       But you did not take this into consideration, did you? Confide in me.
       Were you not drinking fire water at the time?

Squir: I never! (aside) I never should have. (aloud) I have no need to be
       concerned. (sarcasticsally) As much as I'd take great pride in 
       becoming your husband, I can see my spell in action now. My powers are
       sending you a fine husband from the American Army. 

Fount: Don't become too hopeful. None will volunteer and you will
       be my husband. I will mould you into an honest man. After all, you're
       a tribal official. You're better than a commoner. You're better than
       a white man. You're better than nothing.

Squir: I'm not worried. Your husband will be a Cavalry soldier. 
       I'm quite encouraged!

Fount: Encouraged? You'll soon become enlightened. Then you'll
       become engaged. 

(exits)

Squir: And then I'd become enraged. Oh, twenty years! The words
       themselves give so much hope that the future catastrophes will 
       become resolved. But all the future catastrophes ever become are 
       the present catastrophes, if you wait long enough.

(enter Daisy)

Daisy: Flying Squirrel, has Gushing Fountain been trying to disturb our
       perfectly blissful symbiotic relationship again?

Squir: Indeed she has. You corroborate that I am the wisest of magicians
       instead of a supernaturnal sham living the life of ease among our
       gullible associates - and I pretent to be training you in those same
       arts that allow you to also live an irresponsible existance. Now why
       would anyone insist on being mean-spirited enough to want to destroy
       such a wonderful relationship that is making two people so very happy?

Daisy: I couldn't tell you. But it don't seem right. I would have confessed
       the truth years ago if you hadn't warned me about the wrath of the 
       tribe that would befall you. Still...

Squir: Daisy, have you forgotten the tremendous debt you owe me?

Daisy: The debt?

Squir: Have you forgotten that years ago I found you as a babe, lost in the 
       woods, and saved your life by rescuing you from a ravenous hoard of 
       rabid tit-mice?

Daisy: Oh, dear! I had forgotten all about that. Perhaps it's because
       of the terrible pain I feel today.

Squir: Now, what's this? Love-lonely already? It's only been a few days since
       you've seen your Private David Davenport, through no fault of his own. 

Daisy: Through Chief Barking Buffalo's fault. He's the one who's always making
       up laws and rules and decided, just to flaunt his power, that no white
       man would be allowed to enter Indian Grounds until a volunteer has
       married his elderly daughter. 

(enter Tipping Canoe)

Canoe: Take heart, Daisy, I'm sure David is as lonely for you as you are 
       for him.

Squir: And if Tipping Canoe says so, it must be true. She's a nosey little
       gossip who finds out things that no one else can.

Daisy: I wish I could believe you.

Canoe: In truth, I have been all over except for Fort Gouting. Perhaps if I
       tell you some of the interesting pieces of information I've
       accumulated, it will cheer you up.

Daisy: I never said I was interested in you gossip.

Canoe: No one ever does - but they listen all the same.