“Dear child, thy Father in heaven is all wise and approves the love thou bearest thy earthly father. Goodness is in thy heart, and—see, though one of thy own people, it may be, has done this, yet do I come to thee as a friend who seeks only to do thee good.”
As he spoke, the Quaker bent down and pointed to the scalpless top of his head. With scarcely a tremor Gentle Maiden followed his words and action and realized at once what he had undergone.
“Yea, verily, my head was cut thus, and I was left for dead, but forgiveness is in my heart,” the Quaker said.
“My father’s people did not that,” said the girl, with somewhat of haughtiness in her voice. “The Paleface brother was shot by one who roams far and alone. He is not of my father’s tribe. His war is his own war. He comes and goes—now here—now far—much far off. On his arm he marks with paint one band of black for every Paleface killed. Many bands are on his arm. Many Palefaces he has killed. Never will his war be ended. He must not know my Paleface preacher brother, that he thinks he killed, still lives. Yet it is his war. Gentle Maiden may not speak more.”
Theodore Hatch was considerably puzzled by the girl’s speech; but Ree, quickly understanding her, explained to him that for each person he killed the prowling Indian, whoever he might be, pricked in black a circlet about his arm, in addition to taking the scalp; that for some reason he would never cease his attacks upon the whites, and that if he discovered that one man, whom he supposed he had killed, was still alive, he would seek to make that man’s death certain, or kill some other man instead.
“The young Paleface speaks well. Gentle Maiden cannot tell so many words of English now as when her tongue was trained to speak them,” the Indian girl said, confirming Ree’s explanation of her warning to the Quaker.
“I shall see him and reason with him. It is wrong that his heart should be set against all white people, though many may have misused him. Where shall I find him?”
“He comes and goes. He is not of the Delawares. His war is his own war. I have spoken,” the girl made answer.
“I tried to have Gentle Maiden tell me of this lone Indian myself, but the Delawares will not say who he is,” said Ree, fearing the Quaker might give offense by pressing the maiden to tell more than she was willing to do. “He is not a Delaware, yet Captain Pipe believes he has some just cause for making war on the whites, secretly and alone, and does not attempt to stop him. Am I right, Gentle Maiden?”
The Indian girl nodded her head and said simply, “Yes.”