t of the cowardly Tutelu? Tutelu, still in great terror, arrived at
Wakatomica. He panted in with a big story. He showed his head. It
was laid open, four inches long, to the bone! He showed his feet.
They were filled with thorns. He said that his prisoner had been a
giant, with the strength of a buffalo. While they had been talking
together, the giant had pulled up a young tree and battered him first
on one side of the head and then on the other. They had tussled. He
had stabbed the giant twice, in the belly and in the back, and had left
him for dead. At least, the fellow would die soon, for he had not been
able to pursue.

But a white man was here in Wakatomica. He was John Slover; he spoke
three Indian languages--Miami, Shawnee and Huron; and when he heard
Tutelu's wonderful tale, he laughed. He told the other Indians the
truth: that the prisoner was a little doctor and not a warrior--only
five feet and a half tall and weighing no more than a boy! The Indians
laughed long and loud. They bombarded Tutelu with broad jokes, and the
best he could do was to go off to get his head dressed.

John Slover had been captured. He and James Paull and four others were
threading homeward from the battle trail when several Indians had
ambushed them; with one volley killed two, then had summoned the rest
to surrender.

He and young James were the only men with guns. John Slover leveled
his from behind a tree, to fight; but the leader of the Indians had
called: "No shoot, no hurt. Treat good." Therefore he and two others
had yielded. James Paull dived aside into the brush and ran. It
seemed as though he got away.

One of the Indians was an old Miami who had helped to make prisoner of
John Slover when a boy twenty-two years before. He knew him at
once--called him by his Indian name Man-nuch-cothe, and scolded him for
"bearing arms against his brothers." That was hard luck. Scout Slover
saw himself trapped, and could not reply. He figured that unless he
could explain matters he was in for a bad time.

The Indians took the three of them to Wakatomica; painted the oldest
man black and made them all run the gauntlet; killed the man who had
been painted for death, but let John and the other man reach the posts
of the council-house. Then the other man was led away, to another
town; he never appeared again, and John Slover was left alone in
Wakatomica.

He was rather blue when Tutelu had come in. He had found s