"That's it. Heavens and airth! why didn't I think of that? Here I've been trying for two days to remember where I've seen that hang-dog face. He was one of the leaders of them venomous reptiles. Nothing can beat an Indian for recollecting things."
"Indians got long memory. Know enemy always. Don't forget him."
"I say, Eagle's-Wing, do you think the sarpent recollects us?"
"Yes—sartin. He recollect you—saw that. Recollect me, too. Most got his scalp: he recollect that, well, I know."
"How's that, Eagle's-Wing?"
"When Seneca run, he run too. I shoot, and he fell. I run to get scalp—but Seneca warriors turn—too many of 'em—and they take him off. He 'members that, sartin."
"Now Eagle's-Wing, that sarpent has come here to practise some deviltry on us. He's fairly cheated the old Squire, and I s'pose he thinks he has cheated us, too. What shall we do with him?"
"I know what I do," and he significantly pointed to his knife.
"No—that won't do at all. You see, if he is in league with them Senecas, there's only one way that he can help them and injure us. Being inside here, he reckons he can open the door to 'em."
"Yes, that's the way—no other way."