“The Red Avengers were between the fur man’s cabin and the English flag; and we must keep from them. Oh, my poor people!” and a sigh escaped the Indian’s breast. “Swamp Oak’s father is old; the evil spirits’ fiery arrows shoot along his bones, and like the wounded dove, he will fall an easy prey to the bad Indians’ tomahawks. But let them kill him,” and the young brave gritted his teeth; “yes, let them kill the old Peoria, and they shall unchain a devil fiercer than all the wolves in the country of the Illinois.”
Then the savage relapsed into silence, which was not broken till, an hour later, he ran the canoe to the secure cover of the fringed bank.
“Now where do we go, Swamp Oak?” demanded Kate, as they stepped upon the bank.
“The Lone Dove shall see,” answered the Indian, with a smile. “Did she never know that Swamp Oak had a squaw?”
“No, chief,” said the girl, in astonishment. “You never breathed a word to me about a Mrs. Swamp Oak.”
The youthful Indian smiled sadly, but proudly, and, having sunk the boat, led the way into the forest.
“Yes,” he said, in low tones, while he guided the trader’s daughter over the rough ground, “the Peoria has a squaw, as beautiful as the lilies of snow that kiss the lips of the great river (Mississippi). Many moons ago, Swamp Oak’s nation sent him to the lands of the Delawares to spy. He went with a fearless heart, for he wanted to win his first feathers. He wore the plumes and paint of an Ojibwa; he entered the lodges of the Delawares; he told them about the great lake where the Ojibwas live, and they believed him, for the Manitou closed their eyes to the fact that Swamp Oak was an Illinois.[1] Among the Delaware wigwams he met Ulalah, the daughter of Colealah, the gigantic Delaware prophetess, who wears a necklace of living snakes. He loved her star eyes, and when he left the Delawares, Ulalah walked at his side. He dared not take her to his people as his squaw—she a hated and accursed Delaware, so he brought her—here!”
The young white girl looked up into the Indian’s face, bewildered.
“Not here, Swamp Oak?”
“Here, Lone Dove.”