The Great Medicine of the Shawnees was an aged man. Infirm and old was he, yet gifted with wondrous skill. He knew all the properties of the herbs of the forest, the meadow and the swamp. Could cure by charms and conjurations the most dangerous diseases.
The savages looked upon him with awe and wonder. Even Ke-ne-ha-ha, the great chief as he was of the Shawnee nation, felt a slight sensation of fear creep over him as he entered the wigwam of the Great Medicine.
As usual the Medicine Man sat in a corner of the lodge all wrapped up in blankets, even his head concealed. Only his face was visible, and that painted in streaks of black and white in a horrible fashion.
A little fire burning in the center of the lodge cast a dim light over the scene.
The Medicine Man made a slight motion with his head as the chief entered, as if to acknowledge his presence.
“Let the Great Medicine open his ears while the chief of the Shawnee speaks, and let his words sink into his heart as the soft summer rain sinks into the earth.”
Another slight motion of the head answered the words of the chief.
“It is good—let my brother listen,” said the chief, gravely.
Again the Medicine Man bowed his head.
“The Shawnees are a great nation—many warriors—brave as the panther—cunning as the fox. The Shawnee braves fear not death, but they wish to meet it face to face. Now it crawls upon them from behind—in the darkness, and strikes them to death before they dream that a foe is near. Can my father tell me of a charm to conquer the Wolf Demon?”