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Updated: May 16, 2025
Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, however, showed very plainly that he held the invader of his lodge in great fear. He displayed visible emotion, when listening to the ringing words of defiance; but he possessed sense enough to perceive they were not addressed to him, and he continued to smoke his pipe in silence.
Wish-o-wa-tum, the Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, occupied his throne of bison skin on the other side of the wigwam, and, having tired of sitting erect as became a monarch, was lounging on his right elbow, leaving his left hand free to manipulate his pipe, which was occasionally taken from his lips, after the cheeks were filled to overflowing with pungent vapor.
Had the youth assailed Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, probably she would have sat an interested spectator of the scene until it became clear which way it was going, when she might have wrapped her baby in bison-skin, placed him carefully away, and taken a part in the struggle. The Osage resumed the deliberate puffing of his pipe, but glanced from one face to the other of the two Shawanoes.
On reaching the outside, therefore, they turned about, walked slowly backwards, and watched the wigwam. The deerskin being drawn aside, they could the figure of the young Shawanoe, who had stepped back in front of it. Just beyond was partly visible the subdued Shawanoe, he and his conqueror obscuring the squaw, still further away, while Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder was out of range.
As nearly as they could conjecture, they were some six miles from the residence of Wish-o-wa-tum or Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, when they decided to stop for the night. They were fully warranted in believing that all danger from red men was ended; and, as they had no means of finding a good camping site, they stopped at once and began gathering fuel.
Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder turned his head, holding his pipe in hand, and looked inquiringly at the visitor. He showed no signs of fear, but, manifestly, he was astonished. His fragmentary conversation with the other boy had given him no cause to look for such a call, though he saw at a glance that the two were friends. Otto Relstaub beamed with delight.
"Donderation!" exclaimed Otto as best he could, through the strangling vapor; "what for you don't do dot? Don't you vants to kill somepodys mit your smoke don't it? Yaw I oogh!" Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder did not stir. Still holding his pipe suspended in his left hand, he looked at the discomfited youth and smiled. The smile was the most prodigious on which Jack Carleton had ever looked.
"There is the wigwam of the Osage chief, Wish-o-wa-tum, the Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, who lives alone with his family in the woods, and smokes his pipe. He cares not for Miami or Huron or Shawanoe, but smokes in peace." Inasmuch, as no other vapor met the eye, the sagacious Shawanoe adopted a very different line of investigation, or rather research.
To the amazement of the listening boys, the red men all at once changed their language to the English or rather they attempted to do so, for they made sorry work of it. "Dog Deerfoot he dog," was the somewhat obscure remark of the latest arrival. "Him so," nodded Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, who probably had never beard of the individual until within the last few minutes.
The smaller sticks lying near made it look as if the trunk served to help the squaw of Man-not-Afraid-of-Thunder, when she was breaking or cutting wood for the wigwam. Be that as it may, the heels of Otto struck it and he went over on his back, with hat and gun flying and shoes pointed upward. "I dinks dot vos a pig vine," he said, clambering to his feet and shaking himself together again.
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