"I would do what is right by any man," said Lincoln, fiercely. "Who says I am a coward? I will meet him here in an open contest. Now, let the man who says I am a coward meet me face to face and hand to hand."
He stood over the cowering Indian, dark, self-confident and defiant.
"I stand for justice. Let him come on. I stand alone for right. Let him come on.—Main-Pogue, go!"
Out of the camp hobbled the Indian, with the long, strong arm of Abraham Lincoln lifted over him. The eyes of the men followed him in anger, disappointment, and scorn. Hard words passed from one to the other. He felt for the first time in his life that he stood in this matter utterly alone.
"Jeer on," he said. "I would shield this Indian at the cost of my life. I would not be a true soldier if I failed in my duty to this old man. In every event of life it is right that makes might; and the rights of an Indian are as sacred as those of any other man, and I would defend them, at whatever cost, as those of a white man.—Main-Pogue, go hence! Here will I stand between you and death."
"Heaven bless you for protecting a poor old man! I have been a runner for the whites for many years, but I have never met a man like you. I will tell my boy of this. Your name is Lincoln?"
"Yes—Abraham Lincoln, though the name matters nothing."