"Aye, they are peaceful; but I always mistrust them. The cruelties they heaped upon my father and the cruelties that I have witnessed at their hands have always made them hateful to me."
"How do you know that they are Shawnese?" asked Dick.
"How do I know, lad? I have had more dealings with the Indians and the Shawnese than any one around this section. I remember the time I met Tecumseh and his brother, the Prophet, in the Ohio region years ago, and their language is as familiar to me as my own. The silver mine that the pilot was a-telling ye of was even then current among them, but more as a legend than as an active fact."
"The silver mine?"
"Aye, the silver mine. Haven't I searched for it, and found it not. I searched for it until I was weary, and then I gave it up. Of what value is silver or gold to me now. My friends are all dead, and I, myself, have not so many years to live that I should delve after the curse of earth. Two years after I left the old Dart I swore, on the receipt of news of the death of my dear ones, never to return, unless,——" The old hunter was silent.
"Unless?"
"Not unless I accomplish my purpose here. I came not here as a hunter, lad, alone;—there were other pur poses, vain probably now." There was an element of sadness in the hunter's tone. "And yet I should like to see the old home once more. It is very dear to me."
"'Ah, happy hills! Ah, pleasing shade!
Ah, fields beloved in vain!
Where once my careless childhood strayed
A stranger yet to pain!
I feel the gales that from ye blow,
A momentary bliss bestow,
As waving fresh, their gladsome wing
My weary soul they seem to soothe,
And redolent of joy and youth
To breathe a second spring.'"
"Why, Hunter Tom, that's Gray's Ode to Eton College," said Ande with increased respect.
"Aye, sirs, ye are a bit surprised to hear an old backwoodsman and hunter quote that, but I have a right to it, for I was an Etonian, myself, in younger days."