coat of paint that still invested his features; and to
crown all, his words were delivered in the Shawnee tongue, correctly and
unhesitatingly pronounced; which was itself, or so Wenonga appeared to
hold it, a proof of his superhuman acquirements.

The old chief started, as the words fell upon his ear, and looked around
him in awe, as if the prisoner had already summoned a spirit to his
elbow.

"I have heard the voice of the dead!" he cried. "My brother is a great
Medicine! But I am a chief;--I am not afraid."

"The chief tells me lies," rejoined Nathan, who, having once unlocked his
lips, seemed but little disposed to resume his former silence;--"the
chief tells me lies: there is no white-devil hurts his people!"

"I am an old man, and a warrior,--I speak the truth!" said the chief,
with dignity; and then added, with sudden feeling,--"I am an old man: I
had sons and grandsons--young warriors, and boys that would soon have
blacked their faces for battle[12]--where are they? The Jibbenainosay has
been in my village, he has been in my wigwam--there are none left--the
Jibbenainosay killed them!"

[Footnote 12: The young warriors of many tribes are obliged to confine
themselves to black paint, during their probationary campaigns.]

"Ay!" exclaimed the prisoner, and his eyes shot fire as he spoke, "they
fell under his hand, man and boy--there was not one of them spared--they
were of the blood of Wenonga!"

"Wenonga is a great chief!" cried the Indian: "he is childless; but
childless he has made the Long-knife."

"The Long-knife, and the son of Onas!" said Nathan.

The chief staggered back, as if struck by a blow, and stared wildly upon
the prisoner.

"My brother is a medicine-man,--he knows all things!" he exclaimed. "He
speaks the truth: I am a great warrior; I took the scalp of the
Quakel[13]--"

[Footnote 13: _Quakels_--a corruption of Quakers, whom the Indians of
Pennsylvania originally designated as the sons of _Onos_, that being one
of the names they bestowed upon Penn.]

"And of his wife and children--you left not one alive!--Ay!" continued
Nathan, fastening his looks upon the amazed chief, "you slew them all!
And he that was the husband and father was the Shawnees' friend, the
friend even of Wenonga!"

"The white-men are dogs and robbers!" said the chief: "the Quakel was my
brother; but I killed him. I am an Indian--I love white-man's blood. My
people have soft hearts; they cried for the Quakel: but