CHAPTER XXVII.
THE STORY OF THE WOLF DEMON.
The little fire sputtered as the flame eat into the heart of the green stick.
The light chased and toyed with the dark shadows that lurked, assassin-like, in the corners of the Indian lodge.
Ke-ne-ha-ha, with a resolute but gloomy brow, looked upon the old Indian, who sat like a vampire by the embers.
“My father will keep his word?” the chief said, after a silence of long duration.
“Watch the green stick—when it is ashes the Wolf Demon will stand before the chief.”
The Shawnee brave gazed upon the Great Medicine in wonder.
“My father is a Great Medicine, to be able to call the white man’s devil.”
“The Great Spirit wills that the Wolf Demon should come; the Medicine Man does not bring him. He only knows that he is coming.”
“Can my father tell me one thing more?” asked the chief, after thinking for a moment.