“What, brother! You wear the death paint!” he exclaimed.
“You see my son. He is dead by soldier bullets,” said Scarouady.
“How is that? Where is he?”
“He is with my people,” said Scarouady. “I go to ask the great chief why he kills my son. Now I have no more to live for.”
“What happened?” Washington asked of George Croghan, whom Scarouady had sent for.
Croghan told him. Washington closed his lips firmly, but he, too, made no complaint.
“Do you and Scarouady come with me,” he uttered. “I will take you, myself, to General Braddock. It is unfortunate, unfortunate.” And he added, to Scarouady: “Be brave, my brother. The Buck died as a warrior, serving our country.”
Scarouady did not answer; he only followed after Washington and Croghan.
When he returned to where the rest of them were sitting with Gist, while Iagrea beat the deerskin drum and sang praises of the warrior Buck, he seemed to feel better.