like the flaring mouth of a bugle opened into the wider
valley of the Thames. Setting the butt of his rifle on the ground and
resting his hand upon the muzzle, the young Kentuckian now addressed the
chieftain, not only speaking to him in his own language, but adopting
the poetical and figurative style of expression peculiar to his people:

"This day many hands strong and cruel opened the doors of death to push
us burning through; but one hand stronger than them all shut the doors
and drew us back into the paths of the living. He has led us forth in
safety from the midst of our deadly foes, and now bids us return in
peace to our own people. We are glad; we are thankful. Who our deliverer
is we know; our eyes, our ears, our hearts have told us already. Who
should it be but Kumshakah, the savior of the boy Shekee-thepatee, the
friend of the Big Black Brave, Mish-mugwa?"

"Your eyes and your ears and your hearts have told you untruly," replied
the chief. "Nor yet have they wholly deceived you. I am not Kumshakah,
but Kumshakah's twin brother. More than twenty times has spring made
green the forest since Kumshakah started out on his first war-path. But
they who went with him returned without him, saying, 'Kumshakah has
fallen in the land of the Dark and Bloody Ground under the hand of the
Big Black Brave with a Bushy Head.' Then went I out into the forest,
wandering in lonely places, and mourning my much-loved brother. But
before another moon had turned her face full and broad upon the earth,
Kumshakah returned, and there was a light in his eye brighter than that
of the warrior's triumph. The story he told us you know; what we felt in
our hearts you can guess. Who Mish-mugwa was I knew full well. I had
seen him in battle; had heard his war-cry. Afterward I saw him from
where I lay in ambush, his life at my mercy, but I lifted not my hand
against him, for he was the friend of my brother, and they had smoked
the peace-pipe together."

"Then, where is Kumshakah," inquired Reynolds, "since our deliverer be
not he whom we loved as a brother?"

"Twenty times has autumn made yellow the forest," replied the chieftain,
"since the Great Spirit called and Kumshakah answered and went his way.
And before the going down of another sun the Great Spirit shall call
again, when Kumshakah's brother shall answer and go his way likewise."
Then, with a look of grateful interest, the chief inquired: "But tell
me, is the mother of Shekee-thepate