CHAPTER XII.
THE WHITE INDIAN OF CHICAGO.
One morning, as Jasper threw aside the curtain of skins that answered for a door to his cabin, a strange sight met his eyes. In the clearing between the cabin and the lake stood the tall form of an Indian. It was the most noble and beautiful form that he had ever seen, and the Indian's face and hands were white.
Jasper stood silent. The white Indian bent his eyes upon him, and the two looked in surprise at each other.
The Indian's eyes were dark, and like the eyes of the native races; but his nose was Roman, and his skin English, with a slight brown tinge. His hair was long and curly, and tinged with brown.
"Waubeno," said Jasper, "who is that?"
Waubeno came to the entrance of the cabin, and said:
"The white Indian. They bring good. Speak to him. It is a good sign."