Motioning them to be still, Watts fixed his gleaming gaze on the shaman and said:
“I have given many bales of black and red cloth to our medicine-men. Now, my father, when was the law changed?”
And he leaned forward and sought to catch the shaman’s eye. But the medicine-man’s fear of physical violence was as nothing compared with his fear of witches, blue and black spirits and dreams that sapped one’s soul away.
Keeping his face in the blanket, he answered—
“It can not be changed so long as the town stands.”
“Yu!” cried Sevier in triumph. “And now, John Watts, how dare you come from your renegade towns, from your outcast Shawnees and Creeks, your runaway Cherokees and white dogs, and try to break the law of the Cherokees? How dare you bring this creature, neither white nor red, and let him enter a council and vote for death while he is wearing the feathers of the sacred awahili? You say I murdered a Cherokee or had him murdered. I say you and that mongrel dog lie. You say Tall Runner was killed in Jonesboro. I say he lives and goes to find Old Tassel, unless he was killed by that white-Indian after returning to his own people.
“But believe me to be a murderer, or pretend to believe me a murderer. Believe what you will, and still I laugh at you and the man called Polcher. For I appeal to the ancient law of the Cherokees, the law that has never been set aside and can not be set aside so long as a single white town stands on Cherokee soil! I demand my life so long as I stay here in Great Hiwassee. And, by the living God, who is God of both white and red, do you break that ancient law at your peril!”
CHAPTER VI
ON THE WHITE PATH
Watts glared in speechless rage, then sank back helpless. Polcher slyly drew a pistol, only to find his arm seized by the frightened shaman and the weapon twisted from his hand. The warriors gritted their teeth but offered no violence. It was the law. Human blood must never be spilled in a white town. It was also the law among the Creeks and, if old memories were to be trusted, among the Senecas of the Long House. Superstition cowed those who would have scant regard for some other tribal laws.