"With the greatest of pleasure," replied that worthy, feeling as though a tremendous weight had been taken from his shoulders, as indeed was the case.
The young Shawanee led his white brother to his lodge, where an old squaw, his mother undoubtedly, proudly awaited them. Nothing was too good for the paleface who had saved the life of her boy. But first of all, Sandy insisted upon the wounds of the young warrior being dressed.
"You must have been caught in the fire, too, Blue Jacket!" he declared, as he noted the condition of the warrior's scanty garments, which at least had been whole at the time he was in the new settlement.
"Much time, Sandy. Near gone when reach creek and dive in!" replied the other, simply.
And that was all he could be persuaded to say about his adventure, yet Sandy felt positive that the young brave must have gone through a thrilling experience, with the fire surrounding him, and wounded in the bargain. He could picture what Blue Jacket declined to relate.
"They have spared my life, Blue Jacket," observed the white boy, after a time, when he had assisted the squaw to bind up the reopened wound of the brave once more; "but do they mean to keep me here a prisoner? Am I to never see my people again—dear old Bob, Kate, father, and my mother?"
The budding warrior looked at him, and actually a faint smile came upon his face. Sandy could not remember having ever seen him show so much feeling before.
"You wait, Sandy," he said in a low voice; "leave that to Blue Jacket. Give word Bob you be free. Me no fail! Never forget him mother, not much!"
But Sandy had caught one word that riveted his attention.
"When did you promise Bob to save me? Where did you see him, Blue Jacket?" he demanded, eagerly.