a big encampment, alive with figures of Indians. My companion and I
both noted, and spoke together of the fact, that they all seemed
braves; squaws there may have been, but of children there were none
visible.

Populous as this camp appeared, the plain stretching between it and us
was literally swarming with savages. A few were mounted upon horses,
riding here and there with upraised spears, their hair flying wildly
behind them, their war-bonnets gorgeous in the sunshine. By far the
greater number, however, were idling about on foot, stalwart, swarthy
fellows, with long black locks, and half-naked painted forms. One
group was listening to the words of a chief; others were playing at la
crosse; but most of them were merely moving restlessly here and there,
not unlike caged wild animals, eager to be free.

I heard Captain Wells draw in his breath sharply.

"As I live!" he ejaculated, "there can be scarce less than a thousand
warriors in that band,--and no trading-party either, if I know aught of
Indian signs."

Before I could answer him, even had I any word to say, a chief broke
away from the gathering mass in our immediate front, and rode headlong
down upon us, bringing his horse to its haunches barely a yard away.

He was a large, sinewy man, his face rendered hideous by streaks of
yellow and red, wearing a high crown of eagle feathers, with a scalp of
long light-colored hair, still bloody, dangling at his belt. For a
moment he and Captain Wells looked sternly into each other's eyes
without speaking. Then the savage broke silence.

"Wau-mee-nuk great brave," he said, sullenly, in broken English, using
Wells's Indian name, "but him big fool come here now. Why not stay
with Big Turtle? He tell him Pottawattomie not want him here."

"Big Turtle did tell me," was the quiet answer, "that the
Pottawattomies had made bad medicine and were dancing the war-dance in
their villages; but I have met Pottawattomies before, and am not
afraid. They have been my friends, and I have done them no wrong."

He looked intently at the disguised face before him, seeking to trace
the features. "You are Topenebe," he said at last.

"True," returned the chief, with proud gravity. "You serve me well
once; for that I come now, and tell you go back,--there is trouble
here."

Wells's face darkened.

"Have I ever been a coward," he asked indignantly, "that I should turn
and run for a threat? Think you, Topenebe, that I fear to