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Updated: May 9, 2025
He knew nothing about numbers, and did not yearn to handle the match, and make the big gun howl; he had but to paint his face, and whet his scalp-knife, and load his firelock, and blaze away with as deadly an aim as a pioneer's. What need had the Tennessee Warrior for diplomacy? If there was to be any fighting the Tennessee Warrior would rejoice in going along to partake.
The sun shone brightly, the long hedge of pine woods in the distance caught the colour of the sky, the flowers of the plains showed handsomely as a carpet of war. The bodies of the fighters glistened. You could see the rise and fall of their bare, strenuous chests. They stood as their forefathers in battle, almost naked, with crested head, gleaming axe, scalp-knife, and bows and arrows.
For a time the scalp-knife was crimsoned, the stake was charred, bands stole in single file over mountains and among half-dried streams; troups of the regular army were assaulted by invisible foes, and forts were threatened.
The sun shone brightly, the long hedge of pine woods in the distance caught the colour of the sky, the flowers of the plains showed handsomely as a carpet of war. The bodies of the fighters glistened. You could see the rise and fall of their bare, strenuous chests. They stood as their forefathers in battle, almost naked, with crested head, gleaming axe, scalp-knife, and bows and arrows.
I looks up, and two black critters they wasn't human, sure, for they had black tails and red coats Indian cloth, cloth like that traded to the Indians, edged with white, shiny stuff, and brass buttons. "They come forward and made two low bows. I felt for my scalp-knife, for I thought they was approaching to take me, but I couldn't use it they was so darned polite.
SHE never his daughter dead woman's daughter. All his path is white, no more blue. Him very glad, every day my daughter his wife. She keep scalp-knife from his head. My braves capture they dance about fire, she say 'No. She marry him. Their path is white; the sky over them is white." He rose, straight as an arrow, and turned his grim face toward the horse. "I see.
But now he was going round with his scalp-lock dressed out with fresh eagle-feathers, and armed with his gun, and tomahawk, and scalp-knife, and wearing his finest gear, and with all his war-paint on one side of his face red, and the other black, with big white circles around his eyes, "looks mighty keen," the man exclaimed with a sort of relish of the fine barbaric effect of the fighting trim of the great warrior.
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