“The young brave would have the daughter of Ke-ne-ha-ha to sing in his wigwam?”
“The chief speaks straight,” replied the young warrior, firmly.
“The love of a pure girl is priceless; no treasure like it on the earth; it is the greatest blessing that Manitou ever gave to his red children. What will the young warrior give or do to win the singing bird?”
“He will give his life for Le-a-pah; do all possible things. Let the chief speak—tell of the service that he wishes the young warrior to do,” said the Shawnee, promptly.
For a moment Ke-ne-ha-ha looked into the face of the young brave as though pondering upon the words that he was about to speak.
The warrior waited anxiously, impatient to know of the deed that he must do to win the girl that he loved so fondly.
“The chief has heard of the Wolf Demon?” asked Ke-ne-ha-ha.
“Yes,” replied the warrior, and a look of dread crept over his face as he heard the name of the terrible scourge of the Shawnee nation.
“The paws of the Wolf Demon are red with the blood of my people. Many Shawnee warriors have fallen by the tomahawk of this terrible being. On their breasts he cuts his totem—a Red Arrow. Does the chief know why the totem of the Demon is a Red Arrow?”
“No,” the warrior replied.