“Where is the other white brother! Does the White Fox wish to hide him then, if he is the friend of the Delawares? Will the White Fox hide the witch that breathed poison breath upon Big Buffalo, the witch that with a hatchet killed a Delaware warrior, yet left no mark?”
“What’s this you say? What wild talk is this, Lone-Elk? Has Lone-Elk drunk of the firewater that he comes speaking so absurdly?”
Kingdom spoke with a show of temper and in a manner distinctly creditable to the part he was bound to act.
“It is the law that witches must be put to death,” the Seneca returned vigorously. “Lone-Elk has said that Little Paleface with a witch’s hatchet killed a Delaware warrior—killed Big Buffalo. Now must the witch be given up to the friends of him that was killed.”
“Well, I can only tell you that the one you call Little Paleface is not here. He is far away and may not come back for some days,” Kingdom answered quietly. “Now if Lone-Elk will believe this, and it is the truth, he will return to the town of the Delawares and I will myself go there tomorrow to have a talk. Is it a friendly thing for Delaware braves to remain hidden all about the lodge of their Paleface brothers as they are doing now? Let them all come into the light. Let them see that my brother who is accused so falsely—so unfairly and so unjustly—let them see, I say, that he is not here, and we will plan to have a talk tomorrow.”
Lone-Elk gave a short, fierce whoop. Instantly fifteen or more Indians rushed into the cabin, crowding-the little room quite uncomfortably.
“The witch is hidden,” said Lone-Elk, loudly. “If the Little Paleface is here let him show himself.”
As Kingdom looked quickly from one to another of the Indians he observed with sorrow that Fishing Bird was among them. Had this good fellow turned against his white friends, too? But no, that quick friendly look as their eyes met was proof of his friendship still.
There being no answer to the Seneca’s invitation to Little Paleface to show himself, except the grunted “Ughs!” of some of the Delawares, Lone-Elk sprang quickly up the ladder of poles and peered into the loft. Others followed his example, climbing up on stools or by the aid of the roughness of the wall. Some looked up the chimney. Some searched here, some there. One party of five or six, lighting hickory bark torches at the fire, went into the barn. In five minutes the whole cabin was turned topsy-turvy.
“You see it is just as I told you in the beginning,” said Kingdom in a friendly tone, but somewhat impatiently. “Now will you not consent to a talk! Let it be in the Council House of the Delawares—let it be any place you choose. I think I can prove to you that this charge of witchcraft is placed against one who is as true and honest as ever man could be.”