two, boy and man, gazed intently at each
other. Then the chief turned away with a slight laugh. He made no sound,
but the prisoner knew from the motion of his lips that he laughed.

Henry looked again at the group of warriors, and now it was an examining
glance. They were not Shawnees or Miamis, but certain features of paint
and dress showed him that they were Wyandots, a small tribe, but the
bravest that white men ever faced on the North American Continent. It
became an axiom in the Ohio Valley that a Wyandot might be killed in
battle, but he could not be taken prisoner. Thirteen Wyandot chiefs were
in the allied Indian army that was beaten by Wayne at the Fallen
Timbers; the bodies of twelve were found on the field.

Henry fully understood the character of the Wyandots, their great
enterprise and desperate courage, and he knew that their presence here,
west of their own country, portended some great movement. His eyes came
back to the chief, who repeated his statement or rather command:

"You go with us!"

"I have no other choice," replied the youth with a tinge of irony. Then
he added, with some curiosity: "You are a chief, I see that. Will you
tell me your name?"

"I am called White Lightning in your tongue," replied the young man,
making at the same time a movement of his head, very slight, but full of
indescribable pride.

Henry's gaze showed an increase of interest. He had heard that name,
White Lightning. Before he went south to New Orleans it was beginning to
have ominous significance on the border. White Lightning had fought in
the great battle when the emigrant train was saved at the crossing of
the river, but it was only since then that he had become a head chief,
with the opportunity to display his terrible talents. An intensity of
purpose and action like the fire that burns white had caused men to give
to him the name, White Lightning, in English, but in his own Wyandot
tongue he was Timmendiquas, which means The Lightning.

Henry had risen to his feet, and as they stood eye to eye each felt that
the other was a worthy opponent. The chief marked the great proportions
and lofty bearing of the captive youth, and a glint of approval appeared
in his eyes.

"The Wyandots are happy to have taken such a prisoner," he said, "and
now we will go."

He made a gesture, and instantly the group fell into single file, as he
led the way through the forest. Henry was the fourth man in the file.
All his strength