With many a cry of triumph they bound the daring pale-face who had lurked so near to the Shawnee village.
CHAPTER XII.
KENTON SEES THE WOLF DEMON.
After having secured with tough thongs of deer-skin the stalwart limbs of their prisoner, they bore him forward to where the fire burned in their village.
All the inhabitants, attracted by the noise of the capture, had left their lodges and now pressed forward to look upon the prisoner.
Great was the astonishment of the Shawnees when the flickering light of the flames, falling upon their captive, revealed to them the well-known face of Daniel Boone, the great scout of the border.
A howl of delight resounded through the Indian village at this discovery. The red-skins had no foe whom they dreaded more than the man they now held, bound and helpless, a prisoner in their midst.
A grim smile was upon the features of Ke-ne-ha-ha, the Shawnee chief, as he looked upon the face of the man who had so often escaped him on the war-path.
“The white-skin is no longer an eagle, but a fox; he creeps into the shadow of the Shawnee village, to use his ears,” said the chief, mockingly.
“The Shawnees have already had proof that I can use my hands,” replied the scout, nettled by the words as well as the tone of the savage. “A chief that is not fox as well as eagle, is not worthy to go upon the war-path. His scalp should be taken by squaws.”