“The white man grieves for the loss of his boy, and his squaw weeps,” replied Malachi. “The Angry Snake must bring the boy to the white man’s lodge and receive presents.”
“Will the white man be generous?” continued the Indian.
“He has powder, and lead, and rifles, and tobacco: will such presents please the Angry Snake?”
“The Angry Snake had a dream,” replied the Indian, “and he told me his dream. He dreamt that the white boy was put into his mother’s arms, who wept for joy, and the white man gave to the Angry Snake ten rifles, and two kegs of powder, and as much lead as four men could carry away.”
“’Twas a good dream,” replied Malachi, “and it will come true when the white boy comes back to his mother.”
“The Angry Snake had another dream. He dreamt that the white man received his child, and pushed the Angry Snake out from the door of his lodge.”
“That was bad,” replied Malachi. “Look at me, my son; say, did you ever hear that the Grey Badger said a lie?” And Malachi laid hold of the Indian’s arm as he spoke.
This was the signal agreed upon between Malachi and the party concealed, who rushed forward and seized the Indian.
The Young Otter sprang up in spite of their endeavours to keep him, and would certainly have escaped, for he had got his tomahawk clear, and was about to wield it around his head, had not Martin already passed one of the deer-thongs round his ankle, by which the Indian was thrown again to the ground. His arms were then secured behind his back with other deer-skin thongs, and another passed round his ankle, and given to Alfred.
“You were right, Malachi,” said Captain Sinclair. “How he contrived to twist himself out of our grasp I cannot imagine; but he certainly would have been off, and probably have broken our heads before he went.”