“Killdeer, young Long-knife says,” Flying Fish explained to Little Wolf, who seemed not to understand at once to whom the white boy referred.
“Is that his name? He is not a Delaware, is he? He is not one of Captain Pipe’s people?” John asked.
“Killdeer, he comes quick—like wind; gone—like wind. No one see him.”
And hard as John tried to draw further information about the mysterious Indian from the savage youths, he could learn nothing additional. They gave evasive answers or failed, or pretended to fail, to understand him.
Half inclined to be cross at the youngsters, though they amused him not a little, John changed the subject and made the boys promise to hunt with bows and arrows and to bring peltries to the cabin to exchange for knives and trinkets.
His chief object in this was to persuade the lads to do some hunting and thus provide food for themselves and others of the Delaware town; and even had he thought of the future, he could not have known, as none can tell what even the next day or hour will bring forth, what an important part Flying Fish and Little Wolf would play in connection with his own well-being, as a result of his kindly interest in them. For as it afterward happened it was solely because of their having been instigated to go in quest of game with only such weapons as they possessed, that they made their appearance at a distant point one day when their young white friend greatly needed them.
Gentle Maiden and the Quaker had finished the distribution of dried venison brought from the cabin by the time John had concluded his talk with the two Indian lads and others who clustered around to see and to hear, and as an early homeward start was desirable, John suggested to Mr. Hatch that they would better be going.
No word had yet been received at the Delaware town from Captain Pipe and there was no knowing when he would be home. However, provisions sufficient to last the Indians three or four days had now been furnished them, and there would be no necessity of visiting the town so soon again. Yet the Quaker, whose whole heart was in this work of teaching and caring for the Indians, which he had taken upon himself, told Gentle Maiden he would come again the next day, as they bade the girl and the people of the snow-bound village good-bye.
As when on their journey to the town Mr. Hatch and his dapple-gray led the way, so did they take the lead in traveling homeward. The wind had risen again, but the path broken in the morning was not yet filled in with the snow and very good progress was made. The short day, however, was near its close and the gloom of the coming night settled down in the silent forest while the strangely mated travelers were still three miles or more from home.
“I’ll have some news to tell Ree—the fact that the mysterious Indian’s name is Killdeer and that he is a friend of Captain Pipe, who for some reason doesn’t mind who he kills,” John was thinking as he rode carelessly along, when the Quaker called out to him: