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Updated: June 15, 2025
What for Captain Long-knife want kill the tree?" The voice came from behind, and when I wheeled again my shadow was become incarnated in flesh and blood; a stalwart Indian, naked to the belt, standing so near he could have pricked me with his scalping knife. It was God's mercy that by some swift intuition I knew him for the friendly Catawba. It is an ill thing to take a frighted man unawares.
"If I should say no, my tongue would lie; Long-Knife has no wife, and who, like the lovely Chint-zille, is so worthy that he should take her to his bosom? How can I show my gratitude to her noble father?" "The gift is free, and Bull Tail will be too glad in its acceptance, his friends will all be glad with him.
"There should be greater cause for grief than that." "The Long-Knife speaks well." "How then can she sorrow? Tell her to speak to me, that I may whisper words of comfort in her ear." "I will tell you, Long-Knife: Bull Tail loves his daughter very much; he loves Long-Knife very much! he loves them both very much.
But that they may bless the Long-Knife, let him fill up the hollow-wood with fire-water, and Bull Tail will take it to his lodge; then Chint-zille will be yours." "But Chint-zille grieves, she does not love the Long-Knife." "Chint-zille is foolish. Let the Long-Knife measure the fire-water, and she shall be yours."
"Ees, good!" he cried, grinning with apparent benevolence and friendship over the helpless youth: "no hurt Long-knife; take him Piankeshaw nation; make good friend squaw, papoose all brudders, Long-knife."
Maybe some time tell, anyhow." "The white squaw?" said I. "Who is she?" The Catawba laughed, an Indian laugh, silent and suppressed; a mere shaking of the ribs. "No can tell that, neither, too," he said. Then, with a swift dart aside from the subject: "Captain Long-knife care much 'bout black dogs yonder?" I knew he meant the negroes at the hunting lodge.
This suspicion was, however, soon driven from his mind; for making an effort to rise to his feet, he found himself suddenly withheld by a powerful grasp, while a guttural voice muttered in his ear from behind, with accents half angry, half exultant, "Long-knife no move; see how Piankeshaw kill Long-knife's brudders! Piankeshaw great fighting-man!"
They have gone in at my ears, and are now within me. The white-headed Long-knife has no son; the Hard-Heart of the Pawnees is young, but he is already the oldest of his family. He found the bones of his father on the hunting ground of the Osages, and he has sent them to the prairies of the Good Spirits. No doubt the great chief, his father, has seen them, and knows what is part of himself.
"The wolves will kill all the black dogs and drink their blood before the moon is awake. Uncanoola has spoken." I sheathed my sword and turned to take the backward trace. "Captain Long-knife will go and fight for his black dogs with wool on their heads?" he queried. "If need be," I asserted. "Wah!" he ejaculated, and at the word was gone as if the earth had swallowed him.
In order to present distinct views of the sort of enemy, with whom Boone had to do, and to present pictures of the aspect of Indian warfare in those times, we might give sketches of the repeated sieges of Harrodsburgh and Boonesborough, against which as deemed the strong holds of the Long-knife, as they called the Americans their most formidable and repeated efforts were directed.
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