see so many foot, follow him. Leave so many" holding up three fingers
"in bushes--so many" holding up two fingers "come here. Foot tell
_which_ come here--Wyandotte chief--he follow chief."

"When did you first strike, or see our trail, Tuscarora?"

"Up here--down yonder--over dere." Captain Willoughby understood this
to mean, that the Indian had crossed the trail, or seen it in several
places. "Plenty trail; plenty foot to tell all about it. Wyandotte see
foot of friend--why he don't follow, eh?"

"I hope this is all so, old warrior, and that you will prove yourself a
friend indeed. We are out in the hope of liberating my son, and we came
here to see what our enemies are about."

The Tuscarora's eyes were like two inquisitors, as he listened; but he
seemed satisfied that the truth was told him. Assuming an air of
interest, he inquired if the captain knew where the major was confined.
A few words explained everything, and the parties soon understood each
other.

"Cap'in right," observed Nick. "Son in cupboard still; but plenty
warrior hear, to keep eye on him."

"You know his position, Wyandotte, and can aid us materially, if you
will. What say you, chief; will you take service, once more, under your
old commander?"

"Who _he_ sarve--King George--Congress--eh?"

"Neither. I am neutral, Tuscarora, in the present quarrel. I only
defend myself, and the rights which the laws assure to me, let
whichever party govern, that may."

"Dat bad. Nebber neutral in hot war. Get rob from bot' side. Alway be
one or t'oder, cap'in."

"You may be right, Nicholas, but a conscientious man may think neither
wholly right, nor wholly wrong. I wish never to lift the hatchet,
unless my quarrel be just."

"Injin no understand _dat_. Throw hatchet at _enemy_--what
matter what he say--good t'ing, bad t'ing. He _enemy_--dat enough.
Take scalp from _enemy_--don't touch _friend_"

"That may do for _your_ mode of warfare, Tuscarora, but It will
hardly do for _mine_. I must feel that I have right of my side,
before I am willing to take life."

"Cap'in always talk so, eh? When he soldier, and general say shoot ten,
forty, t'ousand Frenchmen, den he say; stop, general--no hurry--let
cap'in t'ink.' Bye'm-by he'll go and take scalp; eh!"

It exceeded our old soldier's self-command not to permit the blood to
rush into his face, at this home-thrust; for he felt the cunning of the
Indian had involved him in a seeming contradiction.

"That