"Go, go and find me a boy to replace my son."
Putting on their black paint, the Indians went over the Alleghanies into Virginia.
In a prosperous settlement in Western Virginia lived a wealthy planter named Rogers. His family consisted of himself, his wife and two young sons. One quiet evening in early fall, the boys were allowed to go for the cows unaccompanied by the servant who ordinarily acted as body guard. The beautiful autumn woods were aglow with color, and the children's exuberance of spirits burst forth in shouts and other noisy demonstrations.
As little Henry lingered to seize a brilliant spray of rich-tinted foliage, two hideous black-painted savages sprang from the bushes and caught him before he had time to call for assistance. The frightened child was borne hastily away, through the forest, over the mountains, to an Indian village where Black Fish received him with open arms, saying:
"Don't be afraid; you are now my son—my Chinwa. Here, take his bow and arrows; here are his gun and knapsack. Some day you will be a great chief."
Henry was adopted into the tribe, and forgetting his former home, learned to be content with the wild life of the Shawnees. A fine horse and saddle were a constant source of pleasure, and persistent practice made the boy expert in the use of bow and arrows.
As he grew older, Chinwa became a successful hunter, and was looked upon with pride and admiration by his sisters. The youngest of these, pretty little Chelatha, was sought in marriage by many braves; but old Black Fish, waiting for the day when Chinwa should declare his love, repulsed their advances with disdain. At length the young chief could no longer conceal his regard from the object of his affection, and implored her to become his bride. She replied with indignation:
"You are my brother. I could not be my brother's wife."
After a long conference with Watmeme, the mother, in which the entire circumstances were explained, Chelatha said:
"If father says so, I will marry Chinwa."