“Let the warrior look upon the belt,” said Carl. “Has he ever seen it?”
“He has. Where did the white man get it?”
“From one who sent me to seek the chief, Wampset, that I might speak a word in his ear.”
The warrior turned and uttered a whoop. It was evidently an understood signal, for the sound of retiring footsteps could be heard, and they were alone. The warrior turned again to Carl:
“Wampset is always to be found by his friends, and by his enemies when he chooses to be found. Let the young man speak. Wampset is here.”
“Where?”
The savage laid his hand upon his naked breast, in an impressive and graceful gesture. Carl could not doubt that he spoke the truth.
“There is a young war-chief upon the banks of the great river, to whom the chief gave this belt. Long ago, the Indians gave the land to his people. But the English people of Shawmut have come and built a strong house upon the river. The young war-chief is coming to drive them away, and he sent the belt to Wampset, that he may come to his aid with all his men.”
The chief mused: