He took the skin of the animal from Benjamin's shoulder, and held it up before the eyes of all.
"Boston tilicum, who killed the animal?" he said.
"It was you?" asked the teacher.
"No—not me, not me, no!"
"The braves?"
"No—not the braves. No." The old chief paused, and then said:
"Boston tilicum, it was Benjamin. Treat him well. He is good to me—he mean well. He likes you—he die for you. Tell the boys it was Benjamin."
He turned away slowly, with a bearing of pride. The Indian boy gave the puma's skin to the master, and took his seat in silence. There was a spirit in the strange scene that was touching, and the master's lip quivered as he took the old chief's hand that bright morning, as a parting sign of gratitude and good-will. He felt the innate brotherhood of all human hearts, and returned to his desk happy in his calling and work; and seeing that the natural rights of all men were secured; and that the human heart has the same impulses everywhere, as he had never seen these truths before.
That night Gretchen told the story of the puma to Mrs. Woods, who had learned the leading incidents of it in the afternoon as she came to meet the girl in the trail, on the way from school.