"I have seen him," replied Floyd. "So has the Dead Chief and the Long Man."
"Yaas, yaas," said Seth, "I seen him, darn him. And I will say that, of all the outlandish critters I ever see, he beats my time."
"Nabockalish is like the wind of the prairies," said Tecumseh. "He comes and goes as he will. Tecumseh has never seen him, but the dead men his hand has laid low are many among the Shawnees. Some day Tecumseh will meet him, and then we shall see who is strongest, the Shawnee chief or the Skeleton Scout."
The Dead Chief again threw himself in the way of Tecumseh.
"Listen, Shawnee. Did you not bid Elskwatawa to slay me when we met?"
"I think the Weasel is coming, Floyd," said the chief. "I hear his whistle."
Dead Chief saw that it was the design of Tecumseh to utterly ignore his presence, and again throwing himself in the way, shook his open hand in the face of the Shawnee and uttered a single word in the Indian language. That word was the most bitter and opprobrious epithet which one Indian could give another, and an insult not to be forgiven or forgotten. The chief drew a long breath and his fingers which he had laid upon Floyd's arm, closed with a convulsive gripe, that it left black and blue spots upon the arm. But, Floyd knew that if the Dead Chief or Tecumseh ever met, one or the other must go down.
"That saws yure leg off, Dead Chief," whispered Seth, dragging the Pottawatomie away by main force. "Yew come along, neow. Here's the Weasel."
As he spoke the mannikin came gliding into camp, and drawing a letter from his pouch, handed it to the captain, who immediately called up his lieutenant and gave him his orders in a low voice.
"Tecumseh," he said, "you came among us freely and you must go away safely; you are at liberty to depart."