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Updated: June 28, 2025
Presently we made out, through the thick leaves, a youth, about our age we supposed, for his head was not cropped and he was about the height of Ongyatasse. When we had satisfied ourselves that he was alone, we took pleasure in puzzling him. As soon as he missed our tracks in the trail, he knew that he was discovered and played quarry to our fox very craftily.
If Ongyatasse had let go of him he would have been carried under the ice by the current, and that would have been the last any one would have seen of him until the spring thaw. But as fast as Ongyatasse tried to drag their double weight onto the ice, it broke, and before the rest of us had thought of anything to do the cold would have cramped him.
Though he was a naked savage, traveling through our land on sufferance, he could make us crawl in our hearts for the Tallegewi. He suspected us of much evil, most of which was true as it turned out; yet all the time we lay at the bottom of the ravine, for the most part helpless, he killed every day for us, and gathered dry grass to make a bed for Ongyatasse.
We had no weapons ourselves, except short hunting-bows, one does not travel with peace on his mouth and a war weapon at his back, so we answered truly, and Ongyatasse read the scroll to them, which I thought unnecessary.
It was in order to be easily recognized that Ongyatasse wore the Peace Mark." The Mound-Builder felt in his pouch for a lump of chalky white clay with which he drew a wide mark around his mouth, and two cheek-marks like a parenthesis. It would have been plain as far as one could see him.
"I crawled over I had saved myself by falling squarely on top of White Quiver so that nothing worse happened to me than sore ribs and a finger broken and took my friend around the body while our enemy pulled the knee, and Ongyatasse groaned aloud and came back. Then White Quiver tied up my finger in a splint of bark, and we endured our pains and said nothing.
Ripples that spread out from his quiet wake took the sun, and the measured dip of the swimmer's arm was no louder than the whig of the cooter that paddled in the shallows. "It had been a true word that Ongyatasse had given his life and his luck to White Quiver; the Lenape had done his best to give them back again.
I heard the splash and shout of Tiakens following Ongyatasse, of course, he said afterward that he would have gone to the bottom with him rather than turn back, but I doubt if he could have stopped himself, and the next thing I knew the Painted Turtle boy was hitting me in the nose for stopping him, and Kills Quickly, who had not seen what was happening, had crashed into us from behind.
"'Where the life is, the heart is also, he said, 'and if the feet of Ongyatasse do not turn back from the trail they have taken, neither does his heart. From his neck he slipped off his amulet of white deer's horn which brought him his luck in hunting, and threw it around the other's neck.
We raced like deer through the still woods, Ongyatasse gaining on the flying figure, and I about four laps behind him. A low branch swished blindingly across my eyes for a moment, and when I could look again, the woods were suddenly still and empty.
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