"First then, why did Lone-Elk come back here in the night?"

The Delaware did not know and said so.

"I can guess that, anyhow," Kingdom went on. "But here's a more important question, Fishing Bird. Who, or what, do you think, killed Big Buffalo?"

The Indian shook his head. Kingdom scarcely knew whether he meant that he did not know or that he did not wish to tell. But he tried another question.

"Was it Lone-Elk?"

For a second or two there was no reply. "Yes, maybe Lone-Elk killed Big Buffalo," came the answer, but the tone even more than the words expressed doubt.

"Well, can you tell me this, Fishing Bird: What is the secret of the Seneca's power among the Delawares and why is he a wanderer and an outcast from his own nation and his own tribe? We all know that he is a sort of a fugitive, yet even Captain Pipe allows him the greatest liberty."

"Listen," said the Indian slowly and solemnly, "Paleface brothers must see always that no hurt comes to Lone-Elk, the Seneca. Yes, Lone-Elk is hated and Lone-Elk is hunted by his own people; but listen, White Fox, listen to this: Lone-Elk and no other knows where much lead for bullets is hidden in the ground. To Captain Pipe and to all the Delawares Lone-Elk brings lead-sometimes bullets, too-always lead. No, no! Lone-Elk will never show where lead comes from, so must no hurt come to him. Anything Paleface brother asks will Fishing Bird do, but if Lone-Elk dies who will know where lead is found! Lead placed in the ground by the Great Spirit for his children, the Delawares; for that is as Lone-Elk tells them."

Kingdom could not help smiling slightly at the simple earnestness of the Indian, but he was interested, too, greatly interested. Once or twice before he had heard Delawares make secret references to the finding of lead in the earth somewhere in the locality of the Cuyahoga river. Now he was convinced that a mine existed, the location of which was known only to the scheming Seneca.

"So that is why Captain Pipe harbors the fellow though he knows that his history is so bad," spoke Kingdom, partly to the Indian, partly to himself.

"White Fox knows how all the Indians look always now for much powder-much lead," the Delaware returned. He was thinking of the trouble along the border and the fighting which was sure to follow the march of "Mad Anthony" Wayne's army into the Indian country to avenge the killing of so many of St. Clair's men the year before.

Kingdom read Fishing Bird's meaning easily as print, though never until now had he realized how fully the redskins were planning for the expected battle, nor guessed how completely posted they were concerning the probable object of the troops Wayne was a.s.sembling on the Ohio below Fort Pitt.

"But you followed the Seneca, Fishing Bird. You watched him nearly all night, you say. Tell me, then, if Lone-Elk must not be harmed, what can you do, what am I to do if he makes trouble? Are we to let him drive Little Paleface from home-and me too? For of course if my friend cannot be with me, I shall not wish to stay here."

The friendly Delaware shrugged his shoulders and looked puzzled. Glancing up, however, and seeing that Kingdom was waiting for him to answer, he slowly shook his head. "Maybe White Fox can find how Big Buffalo died. Maybe Palefaces can tell Captain Pipe that and then Lone-Elk can talk of witches no more."

"Yes, but what if Lone-Elk kills somebody before somebody can do this?" Ree inquired.

"When Lone-Elk comes to do that then Lone-Elk must be killed," Fishing Bird admitted rather reluctantly. But to show that he meant what he said, he now told at some length how he had followed the Seneca from the Delaware village all the way back to the cabin of the two white boys, when he found the crafty fellow stealing away after the return from the fruitless watch and search for John Jerome the preceding day and night. He left no room for doubt that he would have given Kingdom warning of the fellow's presence if necessary; but Ree could not help but believe that his friend had also some other reason for spying upon Lone-Elk's movements.

"This 'talk' I am to have with your people today,-will it do any good, Fishing Bird?" Kingdom at last inquired.

"All the Delawares ask how came Big Buffalo to die," was the Indian's only answer; and presently, though Kingdom asked him to remain, he slipped away, and wading the river at a place not usually used for crossing, quickly disappeared in the thick brush of the western bank.

In spite of the restless night he had spent and his weariness and anxiety, Ree made all possible haste with his breakfast and morning work in house and barn and hastened away to meet John Jerome. He must carry some provisions to him and let him know all that he had heard before starting for the Delaware town.

The distance to the place of meeting which the two boys had finally agreed upon was four miles or more, the spot a well hidden gully running back from the river until it lost itself in a dense growth of underbrush. From the midst of this matted ma.s.s there sprang up a great hollow whitewood tree with a large opening at the base. The lads had once hidden some traps there and knew the place well. In this natural shelter they would be quite free from possible observation, and anything left there would be little likely to be found by straggling Indians hunting in the vicinity.

With much anxiety Kingdom approached the meeting place. The day had come on dull and cloudy but still and in the vast silence of the leaf-carpeted forest the moist air made his every footfall seemingly loud and heavy. Yet listen as he did, even holding his breath, Ree heard not a sound to indicate that he would find John waiting for him. This was the more surprising because of Jerome's customary carelessness so far as being very quiet was concerned.

Even when he reached the thicket in which the old whitewood stood, Kingdom listened in vain for the slightest signal to indicate that his coming was expected. He had had no doubt John would be at the place long before he himself arrived. What else would he have to do save wait and watch?

"Covered his trail better than he usually does if he has been anywhere near here!" Ree e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed beneath his breath when, after making the entire circuit of the ma.s.s of underbrush, he found nothing. Heavy hearted, he sat down with his back to a large maple to wait.

Now what Kingdom should have done, of course, was to make his investigation thorough before he concluded that John had not come. Ordinarily he would have done so-would have gone to the bottom of the subject before he reached a final conclusion; but as many another has done before and since he let a peck of troubles become greater still by shouldering some with which he might much better not have burdened himself, taking for granted, as it were, that trouble was his portion.

It was and is a bad thing to do. The fact was that while Kingdom waited on and on, trying not to worry, but thinking very unhappy thoughts indeed, John Jerome, curled among some dry leaves in the base of the great hollow tree, snoozed as composedly as ever he did in his far away home in Connecticut.

Kingdom rose to his feet. Something must be done! He shook off his heavy thoughts and stood for a moment to consider. It was the movement of his rising, perhaps, that awakened John. He, also, rose to his feet. He heard soft footsteps among the leaves and peeped out. He heard them more plainly and hurried cautiously to a part of the thicket from which he could see beyond the brush. There was Kingdom marching away through the woods as if he were going somewhere and in a hurry to arrive.

A whistle which might have been the call of a squirrel sounded. It was a signal both boys used for each other in the woods, and in another instant the needless burden had rolled off Ree's mind. What a sea of fresh difficulties must certainly have come to both of them but for the chance awakening of John, in the nick of time, the two boys did not long discuss.

"But you would have come into the tree to leave some grub for me, anyway, Ree," said John.

"Hanged if I thought of such a thing!" Kingdom answered. "You don't deserve it, nohow! Going to sleep and keeping me in such a stew about you!" he added good-naturedly.

The lads were both seated on the ground inside the protecting whitewood now, and John, having long since eaten the provisions with which he left home, was making good use of those Ree brought. He had, he declared, with venison in one hand and bread in the other, a more immoderate appet.i.te than any well-behaved witch should ever have.

John's friendly feeling for Fishing Bird was certainly not diminished by what Ree told him concerning the good turns the faithful Delaware had done both of them. He quickly verified the statement that he had been warned by the voice of Fishing Bird at the brink of the river the night before, though he had little suspected the source from which came the "Ughs" he heard.

More than all else, however, excepting Ree's own personal safety at the cabin, was John interested in the hidden lead mine of which Lone-Elk alone possessed definite knowledge. He declared at once his intention of improving his time in exile by watching the woods for the Seneca and following him wherever he went.

"You'll do nothing of the kind, my boy," said Kingdom with playful affection, but yet very earnestly. "I more than half suspect that one reason Fishing Bird follows and watches Lone-Elk is the expectation that he will find out where the mine is. With two of you on the Seneca's trail, it is altogether too certain that he will find you out. And, mark this good and seriously, John, there's no doubt whatever but that Lone-Elk would rather scalp you than not. I don't think for a minute, mind you, that he believes his own witch stories. But he means business in the whole bad mess he has made for us. I'm confident he will not bother me very much, but for all practical purposes he has full permission and authority to take your topknot the first chance he gets. It's the witch law of pretty much all the Indians and of all the Iroquois. The Delawares have all the Iroquois customs from having been subject to them for so long, years ago. So we know what we will have to reckon with."

Jerome was rather inclined to demur but Kingdom would not hear to arty plan but that he should remain carefully in hiding.

"Well, then, I'll tell you what I'll do," John suggested, as a final effort to gain more freedom than Ree believed wise, "I'll take two or three days to myself and make a pilgrimage to the 'salt lick' over by the Mahoning river. Oh, I'll be wary! I'll look sharp enough, don't you fear!" he added, seeing what Ree was about to say.

And so it was agreed that while Kingdom undertook to clear up the mystery of the death of Big Buffalo, Jerome should keep himself occupied and out of sight by the journey he proposed. The plan, like many another plan, far more carefully deliberated upon, had, as events proved, a most important bearing on the future.

But no man can tell what the next day, aye, the next hour, the next minute, will bring forth, however much our every act is constantly shaping the unknown fate and future.

CHAPTER VIII-THE SALT SPRINGS-A STARTLING DISCOVERY

Besides the much traveled path extending south from the river on which the cabin of the youthful pioneers was situated, to the main branch of the Muskingum, there was another thoroughfare of the Indians in the vicinity. The general direction of its course was east and west. This trail was not used a great deal, but it was, for the most part, along its route that the two boys had first made their way into the Ohio wilds two years before. At occasional intervals Delawares and others followed this path in traveling toward Fort Pitt, or in journeying from that point to Sandusky and the country of the Wyandots near the lake, farther to the west or to the Maumee which lay beyond.

At a distance of two days' journey eastward from the cabin on the Cuyahoga, a branch of this trail forked off and led on to a much frequented "salt lick" or spring of salty water, near the Mahoning river. To this "lick" the Indians came from far and near to make salt. Settlers came from great distances, also, especially in later years, to boil the waters of the springs, and Kingdom and Jerome had known of the place for a long time.

Having first heard of the "big lick" from the Delawares, the boys had verified the information so obtained by talking with hunters and traders. Often had they planned to visit the place. During the winter, when work in their clearing was less pressing, they frequently had said they would obtain a year's supply of salt for themselves. But that was before trouble had come to them. What they would do now must depend entirely upon future developments.

Kingdom saw no good reason for John's proposed trip to the "lick," but neither did he see a reason for not going; besides, maybe it would be better for Jerome to be away from the locality in which such grave danger threatened him, and the more especially so in view of the temptation he would have to try to find the secret lead mine of the outcast Seneca.

Thus the two friends parted. Kingdom had already lost much time. He feared being late at the council he was to have with Captain Pipe's princ.i.p.al people and much as he would have liked to go a little way with John, he felt that he must hurry directly to the cabin.

No sooner was Ree gone from the hollow whitewood, however, than John Jerome found interest in the trip to the "lick" suddenly lagging. It was one thing to talk to his bosom friend about the undertaking, but quite another to sit solitary and alone pondering upon its hardships. But he was in for it now. It most certainly would not do to give up. Kingdom would not expect to see him for four or five days at least, and he would be alone for that length of time anyway, he reflected. Thus in a measure he restored his first enthusiasm for the journey he had so impulsively suggested, and ten minutes later was on the way.

To have followed the old trail which led toward the salt spring would have been, from John's starting point, considerably out of his way. It lay much to the south. To travel through the unbroken woods would be harder but it would likewise be safer and the latter was an important point to consider. So through the woods, setting himself to make nearly a bee line to the east, the lonesome young woodsman tramped. Sleep and food had much refreshed him after the labor and the adventures of the night, however, and except for the sense of loneliness and something of worry and anxiety concerning Kingdom's safety, which hung heavily upon his thoughts, he would have been in fine spirits.

John was quite familiar with that portion of the woods which he was now traversing. It was not far from here that he had been held captive in the cave where dwelt Duff and Dexter. Over to the right a mile or so was the spot where the unscrupulous Duff, himself, had been forced to surrender and beg for his very life. On ahead was the little lake where Captain Brady had hidden, a number of years before. John and Ree had hunted up the place one time, just to see the spot after hearing of Brady's wonderful leap and exciting adventure from some settlers near Fort Pitt.

The leaves underfoot and all the great forest stretching away for miles on every side were still wet from the drenching rain of the previous night. Any trail made the day before must needs have been well marked or all traces of it would be now obliterated. John thought of this as in the course of the day's travel he twice came upon signs which seemed to tell of some person or persons having pa.s.sed through much the same portion of the wilds as he was traveling, within a few days at most. One sign of this kind was a freshly cut mark of a hatchet upon a great, smooth-barked beech. Another was the presence of one small stone beside a large one and a small quant.i.ty of hickory nut sh.e.l.ls.

No thought of danger because of these indications that there were other travelers in the woods came to Jerome. The mark upon the beech tree might have been made by anyone, white man or red. It merely showed that some one had recently been there. Likewise the nut sh.e.l.ls may have been left by a chance hunter or even by a party of them. Still, having found these signs, and feeling quite interested in discovering more of them, some which might reveal more definite facts perhaps, as the ashes of a campfire, for example, John looked keenly in all directions as he tramped on and on. But he saw nothing and the necessity of searching for something he deemed more important-a safe and comfortable place to spend the night-caused him to turn his thoughts to other things as the short fall day drew early to a close.

A tangled ma.s.s of wild grapevines hanging over a little gully, and sheltering it alike from wind and rain, seemed to offer a good prospect, but turned out a disappointment. The ground, on being inspected, proved exceedingly wet. So on John went. Once he paused beside the thickly spreading branches of a maple, which had been uprooted by some summer storm, and contemplated lying down among the leaves the breezes had collected there. But he shook his head and pa.s.sed by.

"Why the very mischief I ever thought of coming on this wild goose chase I don't know, I vow!" the young wayfarer grumbled to himself, with a grim frown.

He was thinking of the snug little log house and the warm supper and warm bed he might have had in prospect. Even the shelter of the projecting ledge of rock, whose protection he had had the night before, seemed very attractive now. "And the old hollow poplar, that would be quite a lord mayor's mansion, for a fact it would!" he told himself. "But there's no use fussing for what you haven't got and can't have," he added, with a philosophy which many an older man has never learned, and walked on the faster.

Only once or twice before had John spent a night in the open woods without Kingdom for company, and though he was not afraid, he dreaded the hours of darkness and the lonesome, cheerless night now just before him more and more as the shadows thickened.

"Howl away, you pesky rascals! Howl away! But you don't know what you're howling for!" he burst out almost spitefully as the yelping of wolves reached his ears. "I'm not going to climb a tree on your account-not if I don't have to," he added, making the latter saving clause barely audible, even to himself.

A strange place for a night's rest it was which John selected at last as a final choice. "But," as he reasoned with his protesting, tired-out body, "you've got to take what you can get and take it mighty quick at that, if you are going to see what you're getting."

The resting place thus selected was a chestnut tree which sent out four branches a few feet above the ground, each as large as an ordinary tree, and each spreading broadly in a different direction from the others. The effect was to form at the place from which the branches projected a seat by no means uncomfortable and having the advantage of being high and dry, at least. Indeed, John found that by sitting astride of one great limb and leaning against another, he not only maintained his balance easily but rested comparatively well. With his blanket wrapped round him and over his head like a hood, he ate his supper of dried venison, wished he had a drink, decided it was too much trouble to go for one, fell to thinking of the absurdity of Lone-Elk's accusations and drifted off to sleep.

Before morning John felt severely the effects of being so long in one position, but nothing worse disturbed him. He heard wild creatures of the forest all about at different times in the night, but even had human eyes come very close they would hardly have seen in the thick darkness the solitary figure perched in the chestnut's forks. But it was a genuine luxury to be on the ground and feel the cushions of leaves-underfoot once more; and so it was, while he strode steadily forward, facing always the east, that John ate his meager breakfast.

Watchful as he always was to obtain fresh clues to the presence of others than himself in any portion of the woods, John still found nothing to interest him particularly. In the afternoon he came upon a runway of the deer, and confident from its general trend that it led toward the salt springs, he followed it. He came upon various indications that the path had been used by two-footed as well as four-footed creatures. Once he found the skeleton of a large buck. Near by was a sapling which had been bent down over the path, and a long withe made into a noose close at hand, showed how the poor creature died.

None of the things he saw, however, conveyed to John any thought but that he must be nearing the salt "lick" now; and that perhaps he would find some one there, and would do well to be very careful as he approached, not knowing whom he might find, and being somewhat particular who might find him.

Even when he picked up a buckskin glove with spatters of blood upon it beside the runway, John had no presentiment of what was to come. He only muttered: "White folks at the spring now, or have been there not long ago, at least. Settlers, probably. You don't catch anybody else putting on mittens before it has even snowed. What a big hand he had!"

The concluding exclamation followed the trying on of the glove. It was, indeed, a large one, and because of its size and not knowing just where to carry it, John was inclined to throw it down by the path and leave it; but he reconsidered and tucked the buckskin in his belt. He found it there, convenient for reference, when a decidedly startling discovery somewhat later brought the glove very forcibly to his recollection.

The runway of the deer brought the boy at last to a considerable stream which he rightly guessed to be the river, known to the Indians then and to everyone now as the Mahoning. The path skirted its banks for some distance, then turned into the woods again, leading on to the springs of slightly salty water which lay at no great distance.

Only by hard traveling had John reached the place before nightfall, but he was thankful for his rare good fortune in doing so. To spend several hours at least in locating the "lick," after he had come fairly into its vicinity, was what he had expected, and now to come directly to the spot was indeed lucky. He had never seen the place before but he could not doubt the evidence that lay on every hand. Indeed, he was greatly surprised to find so many indications that the springs were often visited.

They lay in an open s.p.a.ce of two or three acres, grown up to low bushes and rank gra.s.s, save for the paths where the ground had been tramped bare by the deer and other animals. In several places were the ashes of long-deserted campfires. Near the border of the clearing were two or three rough, quickly-erected log cabins. But these also, were deserted, and toppling over from neglect. The spring or springs-for the water seemed to bubble forth in two or three places-were enclosed by heavy planks, hewed from whole trees, forming a vat nearly six paces square, as John measured it, and rather more than three feet deep. This vat was sunk in the ground and as the astonished young visitor lay down to drink from it, what was his surprise to discover two large iron kettles at its bottom, plainly visible in the clear, sparkling water.

With rare interest the young explorer looked upon his discoveries. Another thing which much attracted him were pits that had been dug as hiding places by hunters, wherein they lay in wait for the coming of deer to the springs at night. These may have been the work of white men or of Indians, for it was not many miles, John knew, to the old Indian village which he had heard called Mahoning Town. He doubted if many Indians lived there, now, however,-not more than one or two families at most he thought-for at this distance from the border, the homes of the Mingoes, which once had been occupied, were already falling to ruins. The inhabitants of the villages had moved farther into the wilderness or were scattered and there seldom remained so much as a dog to bark at strangers.

John was somewhat disappointed to find no white person or persons near, and no sign that any had been there since the rain of the second night before, at least. But it was lucky, on the other hand, that he found no hostile Indians there, and just at that time it would have been pretty hard to tell which redskins were hostile and which were not, unless one personally knew them.

So, having satisfied himself that neither friend nor foe was in the vicinity, the interested young discoverer again drank heartily of the spring's very pleasant waters and then calmly sat down at some little distance to rest and survey the situation more leisurely than he had done at first.

The salt "lick" or spring was somewhat to one side of a wide, shallow valley. The extent to which the vicinity had been frequented had caused many trees and much brush to be cleared away, as in the course of time they had been burned and chopped down to provide wood for the making of salt or the building of huts. The effect was to make the woods quite open all about the little clearing. But, notwithstanding, it was a very desolate, lonely spot. The wind blew in a most melancholy manner and the impression came to John that the springs were haunted. Surely if ghosts ever appeared anywhere in the whole vast wilderness, here was a place which seemed the very one at which they would a.s.semble. But it was for the sake of security from being found by living visitors to the "lick" that the lad decided he would do well to go farther into the forest to spend the night. This he did, and as it was now dusk, he sought a safe resting place with great eagerness.

Knowing that creatures of all sorts would be likely to come to the spring after darkness set in-even buffalos, though they were exceedingly rare in these parts, John was well aware-the lad had no excuse to make to his courage in looking for a tree which would offer a comfortable perch. This he failed to find, but high up on the hillside to the east of the "lick" he found, as he searched further, a rude shack or shelter built up with poles and brush, probably by salt boilers. At least there was a considerable bed of ashes in front of the open side of the brush wind-shield, and under cover and comparatively dry was a bed of small boughs, leaves and long, wild gra.s.s, such as grew in the valley below.

The effect of this discovery upon John Jerome was to make him feel quite at home. The dreary prospect of spending an uncomfortable night vanished. If others had found it safe to have a campfire and sleep like civilized mortals, why should not he? A campfire and all the comforts of the brush house should be his, he instantly decided, let the consequences be what they might. So the next half hour was busily spent in gathering firewood.

With dry leaves and powder and the exercise of patience, born of the days which knew not matches, John kindled his fire. He chose not to risk more than a small blaze, however, and by starting it very close to the front of the shack made its ruddy glow scarcely visible from one direction, at least. The princ.i.p.al advantage of this was in having the fire close to him as he lay on the bed of tender boughs; still he was glad to think that he was "being prudent," as Return Kingdom would wish him to be, though he smiled at the thought.

Good, honest fatigue and a clear conscience put John to sleep early, despite the troubled state of his mind whenever he thought of his enforced absence from the only home he had. If prowlers of any kind, man or beast, were near him while darkness lasted, he did not know it. He awoke to find the dawn breaking and, knowing that he must soon start back to keep his appointment with Ree, set out at once for another inspection of the salt spring and its surroundings.

How he chanced to come upon it or what prompted him to pause before it, there is no necessity of telling, but certain it is that when about to leave the spring, John found at a distance of forty rods to the west of the "lick," on a slight rise of ground, a pile of brush in the midst of a sumac thicket.

"How did it get there and what's the purpose of it?" he asked himself, wondering if it were not a trap for wild turkeys.

With a determination to find an answer to his questions, he pushed in among the bushes and pulled the low brush pile to one side.

A ghastly sight confronted him. Dead, their skins discolored, their clothing hanging loosely on their gaunt bodies, stiff and cold, their scalps gone, were two men-two young men-who, it was evident, had come from the settlements.

CHAPTER IX-THE EVIL POWER OF LONE-ELK

Perspiring and thirsty after his long, rapid walk from the hollow poplar to the cabin, Kingdom would gladly have rested before going on to the town of the Delawares, but the day was already well advanced and he must hurry. Stopping only for a drink of water, therefore, and to a.s.sure himself that nothing had been disturbed in his absence, he saddled Phoebe and was away again.

The boy had been thinking much of all that he meant to say to Captain Pipe and his counselors and the subject still occupied him as he drew near the Indian village. He glanced anxiously about, wondering if he would be met by any such warning as had come to him the day before, but saw no one. Going on to the straggling little collection of huts of bark and skins which comprised the town, however, he was soon greeted by Captain Pipe himself and a score of warriors. The manner of the Indians was very formal and cool, yet not especially unfriendly, Kingdom thought, and he felt sure that if it were not for Lone-Elk he could win all the friends of the dead Big Buffalo over to his side and persuade them that witchcraft had not been the cause of death.

Lone-Elk was not present when Kingdom arrived, but scarcely had the lad tied his horse when the Seneca came stalking forth from his lodge, a wigwam made of skins, and followed the chief and the other Indians as they led the way with Ree to the Council House. The latter building was the same as that in which the religious exercises of the Harvest Festival were held and has been sufficiently described.

Captain Pipe and his followers ranged themselves in a wide semicircle at one side of the long, low structure and Kingdom sat opposite them. Lone-Elk was at the extreme left of the line of warriors on the chief's right. He had not spoken to the white visitor, nor did he now deign to take any notice of him. In all respects his conduct and general bearing were not only insolent but ugly to the point of savage hostility.

When all were seated, Captain Pipe briefly said that the council was ready to hear any message or statement which the Paleface visitor wished to present.

Kingdom had hoped he would have an opportunity to learn something more than he yet knew as to the circ.u.mstances of Big Buffalo's death before the council convened, but there had been no time for this, and he could but make the best of his situation.

Rising, Ree saluted the Indians very respectfully and began what proved to be a really able speech, though he had little supposed that so much formality would be observed in the "talk" he had asked to have. From quiet, slowly spoken words, Kingdom advanced by degrees to louder tones and greater vehemence, and he had, he was glad to see, the respectful attention of every Indian present, not excepting Lone-Elk.

On the latter's face an expression of indifferent insolence changed to one of very attentive thoughtfulness. He realized that here was a force and an appeal to the reason and intelligence of the Delawares which might very easily prove the undoing of his schemes and his accusations and possibly end most unfortunately for himself.

Kingdom spoke most plainly, and understanding full well the power of hard, honest truth, honestly and forcefully presented, he frankly owned that John Jerome had been forced into hiding by the danger in which he was placed, owing to the charge that was made against him. They both would be compelled to leave their home and lose it and all the work they had done in their clearing if the Delawares could not be made to see that this accusation of witchcraft was unjust and false, he said. He reminded Captain Pipe and the others how, in good faith, he and John had bought their land; how they had refrained from going to the west of the river on the portage path because those lines marked the boundary of the lands the Indians had never surrendered to the white people as a whole. He appealed to the sense of justice which every Indian had, to the end that they might see how unfair it was to take the testimony of any one person as conclusive evidence of guilt.

Neither did Ree spare the Seneca. He warmly called attention to the character of Lone-Elk and denounced the fellow as an outcast, a fugitive from the villages and the haunts of his own people; scored him as one whose history made him an unfit witness for the Delawares to believe, and especially so since the accusation he made was directed against one whose friendship for all the Delawares, Big Buffalo included, had been proved time and again.

Much more did Ree say, and he was satisfied as he finished that, whatever the outcome might be, he had done his best. He had suggested many causes for Big Buffalo's sudden death, any one of which he declared was more reasonable than this idea of witchcraft. He had asked that the opportunity be given him to examine the body of the dead warrior to see if he could not then tell precisely what had produced death. He would not say, he stated, that he could positively do this, but it would be no more than fair to let him try.

In accordance with the Indian custom, when matters of such grave concern were the subject of a council, Kingdom withdrew after he had presented his contention to await a decision when the Delawares had discussed the matter among themselves.

What went on in the Council House while he walked about outside Kingdom did not know. He easily imagined that Lone-Elk would ridicule things that he had said and ask if he himself had not been as good a Delaware since coming among them as any warrior present.

Ree's guess was not far wrong. Lone-Elk did appeal to Captain Pipe and everyone present in the strongest language at his command, reiterating again and again that what his eyes bad seen should stand for more than any denial which the young Palefaces could make. And he promised, too, that if the opportunity were given him, he would find evidence convincing to every Delaware that the Little Paleface was a witch and that he and no other had caused the death of the warrior whose arm would be lifted in battle, whose voice would sound upon the warpath never again.

For more than an hour the council remained in session while Kingdom walked up and down impatiently among the low huts. Most of the Indians of both s.e.xes were gathered in the Council House and he was quite alone. A step near by stirred him from his melancholy revery. Glancing up, he found Fishing Bird beside him. The look on the friendly fellow's face was enough to tell Ree that the council had decided against him.

"Come," the Indian said, telling with his eyes that which he dared not speak, and Kingdom followed him into the long, bark building and once more stood before the council.