“Then,” Jack hesitated, “do you know a white girl that has grown up in his lodge—a girl a little older than yourself, I reckon. Her father died and left her with him about ten years ago. Do you know her?”
What possessed Alagwa, she never knew. Perhaps it was merely the eternal feminine instinct to mislead the male. Almost without hesitation she answered. “Yes,” she said, slowly. “I have see her, but men do not associate with squaws. I see her little.”
“What does she look like?”
The girl shrugged her shoulders. “She is dark, very dark, darker than the Indians,” she said. “She has black eyes and square face. I not know she is white till some one tell me. She look like a Shawnee.”
Jack’s face fell. “Oh! I say!” he exclaimed. “That’s too bad. I was told that she was very pretty.”
The girl’s lip curled. “You not like her unless she is pretty?” she questioned, scornfully.
Jack laughed. “Of course, I’ll like her whether she is pretty or not,” he answered. “She is a cousin of mine, and I’ll like her whatever she looks like. Do you know where she is now?”
Alagwa hesitated. “I see her yesterday at Wapakoneta,” she answered.
“You did! Then Tecumseh did not take her with him?”
“No, Tecumseh took only warriors. Women do not go on the warpath. Why do you seek her?”