"You? You a Quaker?"
A grave smile broke over the impassive, copper-colored face.
"Me Neowage, Chief Winnebagoes. Live Omaha Reservation. Friends' Mission."
"Oh-h!" A great light began to dawn on Joshua Peniman. "Oh, you are one of the tribe who were put in charge of the Friends' Mission?[#] Then it was you who saved us last night?"
[#] During the year 1856-1857 the Winnebago tribe, being much depleted by continual wars with the Sioux and Arapahoes, sought protection at the Reservation in Omaha. There the remnants of the tribe were put under the protection of the Friends' Mission, and many of them became converts to the faith.—SHELDON'S History of Nebraska.
The big chief nodded.
"Me hear you say 'thee' to you boy. Me know you Friend."
"And because I was a Friend you saved me—me and my family! Oh, Friend, I thank thee!"
He stepped forward and grasped the Indian's hand.
With a dignity equal to his own the chief shook it warmly.