"Seth, what does this mean? I do not understand this. Why does he act so strangely?"
"That is the funniest hat, as I'm alive," said the old man, laughing. "Why will you wear such an absurd thing, young man? I wish you would take pattern by me."
"Father, where is Madge?"
"Madge? Who is Madge? Oh yes, I know. A little rosy-cheeked creature that used to live here, on sufferance, mind you! Well, a red fellow came along yesterday—was it yesterday?—I don't remember exactly—and I gave her to him. She was no manner of use to me, so I thought I might as well part with her, as the red fellow really seemed to want her."
A look of agony came into the face of the young man. "This is horrible. He demented and can give us no information in regard to my dear Madge. What shall we do?"
"He must be sent down the river at once, for a doctor is what he wants. But, I don't see how it can be done. The woods are full of Indians."
"Let the Dead Chief speak," said the Pottawatomie, advancing. "Let me take him to my lodge, and the young war-chief can bring the medicine-man to my lodge. The Gray Hair would not live to go to Vincennes."
"I believe the chief is right," said Floyd. "Oh, my poor father, how it grieves me that you should be reduced to this piteous state."
"I would like to know what all this talk is about," said the old man. "I don't understand you at all. What does this man want?"
"Come and dwell in the wigwam of the Dead Chief," said the Pottawatomie.