CHAPTER XVI.
THE WOUNDED MAN.
“Within a week every red brave in the Shawnee nation will be on the war-path, and with the Shawnees are the Wyandots and the Mingoes. Thar’s a bloody time ahead, gal.”
“And you are leagued with the red fiends,” said Kate, indignantly.
“And ar’n’t I red now, too?” returned Kendrick, with a frown—“red at heart, although my skin may be white. But, gal, I’ve come to give you warning of this attack, so that you can look out for yourself in your expeditions in the forest. The Indians will be as thick as bees between here and the Ohio. And if they should come across you in the forest your scalp might adorn the belt of some one of my red brothers. Not that I think that any of the Shawnee tribe would harm a hair of your head, that is, if they knew who you was. But in the wood they won’t be apt to examine very closely, till they put a bullet through you.”
“I am not afraid,” said the girl, scornfully. “I do not think there are many of the Shawnee warriors that are a match for me in woodcraft.”
“That’s so, gal; I’ll back you ag’in’ ‘lifting a trail’ with any red-man that ever stepped.”
“Do not fear for me; I can take care of myself.”
“By the way, gal, thar’s one thing I want to ask you,” said the renegade, suddenly. “In your wanderings about in the forest, did you ever see a strange-looking creature with the body of a wolf and the face of a human?”
“No,” said the girl, in wonder.