“Your name is Percy Vere,” he said. “The locket you wear contains the portraits of your father and your mother. Your companion is your cousin, Percy Cute; and you are here in the wilderness seeking your father.”
CHAPTER X.
ONEOTAH.
To say that the boys were surprised by these words would inadequately describe the emotion that seized upon them as they listened to them—they were literally dumbfounded.
“Great heavens! this is wonderful!” cried Percy Vere. “What do you think of it?” he added, appealing to his cousin.
“I take all back; old Smo’ is by no means slow!” responded Cute. “I don’t wonder that he can bamboozle the benighted Indians, for he has completely kerflummixed me.”
The warriors, who had drawn nearer when Smoholler dismissed his spirit, uttered an approving grunt. It may be that the Prophet had purposely availed himself of this opportunity of displaying his divining power before them.
“Is what I have told you true?” he demanded of the boys.
“It is,” Percy Vere admitted.
“Every word of it,” added Cute. “This beats spirit-rapping all hollow; your spirit comes without a rap, and his information don’t cost a rap.”
“And having told me so much, I am led to believe you can also tell me where I can find my father?” cried Percy Vere, eagerly.