Dave spoke so positively that the guns were lowered and there followed an awkward pause.
"I, too, know this man," said the settler named Thompson. "I certainly thought him a friend to the English."
"This young woman accuses him of the murder," asserted a soldier, doggedly.
"Don't let him go, because of what young Morris says," came from another. "He don't know Injuns as well as some of us older heads do."
"Perhaps not, but I know White Buffalo," answered Dave, bravely. "More than once he has aided my father and my uncle, and our folks. I'd trust him as quickly as I'd trust a brother."
"Dave is my friend," said the aged chief, gratefully. "White Buffalo will ever remember him for his kind words."
"I go in fer shootin' him!" cried one of the frontiersmen, a fellow known around Fort Cumberland for his loose habits. "The only Injun worth havin' around is a dead one. Shoot him!"
A spirited discussion took place, and it was soon evident that fully half of those present were in favor of taking White Buffalo's life. The Indian listened calmly to what was said. He showed not a trace of fear.
"I'll not stand for this," whispered Dave to the aged chief. "You must get away, somehow, White Buffalo. See, here is my horse. Take him and ride for your life."
"White Buffalo is not afraid to die."