The road grew smoother and she realized that the wagon was within the village. A moment later it halted and the pad of running feet and the murmur of voices arose about it. Jack’s voice arose, telling of what had happened and expressing his regret, but presenting the facts so as to screen the living murderer and lay the blame on the dead man.
A small hole in the canvas cover of the wagon was close to her face. She glanced toward the man on the box and saw that he was cowering back, listening with strained ears to Jack’s words and paying no attention to her movements. Gingerly she moved till her eye was at the hole.
“I know not the name of the dead chief,” Jack finished. “But I saw upon his breast a token like to that upon my own.” He tore open his shirt and disclosed a mark, at sight of which a chorus of gutteral exclamations arose. “Great is my grief,” he went on, “that the chief is slain. He, however, took vengeance before he died. He killed the man who killed him. I go now to Fort Wayne in the service of the Great White Father. In three days I will return to speak more fully of this before the white chief, Colonel Johnson.”
For a moment there was silence, then an Indian—Alagwa knew him as Blue Jacket, friend of the whites—stepped forward. “My brother speaks well,” he said. “Far be it from me to doubt my brother’s word. But some of my tribe have dug up the hatchet. If my brother goes now, perhaps the white men will say that the rest of us are snakes in the grass and that we lay in wait for the white man and slew him. Perchance they may descend upon our village in wrath and may drive our young men to take the warpath. Will not my brother stay and speak with a straight tongue to our father, Colonel Johnson?”
Jack shook his head. “I can not stay,” he answered. “I must hurry to Fort Wayne. The Seventeen Fires command it. But I will leave a letter for Colonel Johnson. I will tell him that your hearts are good. If you will take it to him all will be well.”
The chief grunted with approval. “My brother speaks well,” he said. “We will send the letter to Colonel Johnson, who is even now at Wapakoneta. Some of my young men shall bring in the bodies for him to see.”
Jack took a notebook from his pocket and wrote an account of the tragedy of the morning on two of its pages. These he tore out and handed to Blue Jacket. “This will make all safe!” he said.
The chief took it with grave thanks. “All shall be as my brother says,” he promised.
Jack nodded. “It is well,” he said. “Now one other thing I would ask. I come hither at the request of Tecumseh, to take council with him concerning a great matter. Will you bear him word that I am called away on duty but will return in five days.”
The chief shook his head. “I can not. Tecumseh has gone north with many braves. Already he is far away!”