“You’d rather be on the war-path ag’in’ the white-skins along the Ohio than to be hyer, a-keepin’ watch over a squaw?”
“My brother speaks straight,” said the Indian, in a surly tone, taking the pipe from his lips for a moment.
“Pity we can’t go on the war-trail, hey?”
“Big pity,” replied the chief, sententiously.
“My brother thinks much of his Wyandot brother, Girty?” said Kendrick, in a tone of question.
“His Wyandot brother is a great warrior,” replied the chief, evidently not willing to commit himself by a decided answer.
“Wal, I judged that you thought a heap of him by being willing to do his watching, hyer,” said Kendrick, suggestively.
“Girty is a great Wyandot chief, but the Shawnee brave is not his watch dog for love. The chief does a service, but the chief will be paid for it.”
“Oho!” muttered Kendrick, to himself, “I reckon I know how the chief is a-going to be paid.”
“My brother knows now that the Shawnee chief is to be paid for his service,” said the Indian.