A shadow fell between the two, and an Indian, naked save for a breech-clout and for the eagle feathers rising from his scalp-lock, thrust himself between the girl and the intruders.
“White men go!” he ordered, in Shawnee. “Take presents and go!”
Brito’s face flushed brick-red. He did not understand the words, but he could not mistake the tone. His hand fell to his sword hilt. Instantly, however, Girty stepped between. “Why does the Chief Wilwiloway interfere?” he demanded.
Wilwiloway leaned forward, his fierce eyes glittering into those of the renegade. “Tecumseh say white men no speak to Alagwa. White men go!” he ordered again. His words came like a low growl.
For a moment the others hesitated. Then Brito nodded and said something to Girty and the latter drew back, snarling but yielding. Brito himself turned to Alagwa. “Good-by, cousin,” he called. “Since this—er—gentleman objects I have to go. With your permission I’ll return later—when Tecumseh is back.” With a smile and a bow he turned away. He knew he could not afford to quarrel with Tecumseh until he had secured the proofs of the girl’s identity.
Wilwiloway called Girty back. “Take presents,” he ordered, pointing; and with a savage curse the man obeyed.
Wilwiloway watched them go. Then he turned to Alagwa and his face softened. “They are bad men,” he said, gently. “Their words are forked. Tecumseh commands that Alagwa shall not speak with them.”
The girl did not look altogether submissive. Nevertheless she nodded. “Alagwa will remember,” she promised. “Yet surely Tecumseh is deceived. The white man speaks with a straight tongue. He brings Alagwa great tidings. And the redcoats are the friends of the Shawnees.”
The Indian shrugged his shoulders. “Tecumseh speaks; Alagwa must obey!” he declared, bluntly. Then he turned away, leaving the girl to wonder—quite as mightily as if she had lived all her life among her civilized sisters.
How long she stood and wondered she never knew. Abruptly she was roused by a sound of voices from the direction of the southern outposts. Steadily the sound grew, deepening into a many-throated chant—the chant of welcome to those returning from a journey—the chant of thanksgiving that those arriving have passed safely over all the perils of the way: