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Updated: May 7, 2025
In the course of conversation he informed me that he had talked with Winnemak, and had buried, as he said, the war-hatchet; and he had therefore come and settled in that district. He had also preserved my horse with the greatest care; and, he added, he was ready to restore him to me in good condition. With regard to Uncle Jeff, he could tell me nothing.
"Why, uncle," exclaimed Clarice, "it is Winnemak!" But I must explain how Clarice came to know the Indian, whom, at the first moment, no one else had recognised. Not far off, in a grove of cottonwood trees up the valley, there came forth from the side of the hill a spring of singularly bright and cool water, of which Uncle Jeff was particularly fond; as were, indeed, the rest of us.
As my uncle, however, had not rejoined Winnemak, I concluded that the latter was still in the mountains, well contented with his new locality, and engaged in shooting and trapping. "Can you give me any information about my other friends?" I asked.
Winnemak now seized one of his antagonist's arms, and with a movement as quick as thought threw him on his back across his own knee; then pressing him down, it appeared to me that he intended to break his spine. A fearful shriek, wrung from him by the agony he was suffering, escaped the lips of the young brave; his eyes closed the struggle was over.
As the light rapidly increased, and I saw him more clearly than at first, it struck me that he was the young brave, Piomingo, who had lately paid us a visit at the farm; but of this, seeing him at the distance he was from me, I could not be certain. The chase promised to be a far longer one than I had expected. The stranger seemed as resolved to escape as Winnemak was to overtake him.
The only regret of Winnemak was that he and his people had not received these glorious tidings in earlier days, before they had almost ceased to exist as a people in the land where once their warriors were counted by thousands. But I have been anticipating events.
After surveying my companion and myself apparently to ascertain who we were she stepped forth from her place of concealment, and advanced fearlessly towards us. "How comes it that you are wandering in this forest by yourself?" I asked. "My friends are not far off," she answered; "and they are your friends also. I am Maysotta, the daughter of Winnemak.
"I do not think that at all likely," I answered. "There can be no doubt that she is the daughter of whom Winnemak told my sister Clarice, and that she has heard all about us from her father. She is thus anxious to render us any service in her power." Maysotta, hearing us talking, stopped, and putting her finger to her lips, made us understand that we must be silent.
"Why, uncle," exclaimed Clarice, "it is Winnemak!" But I must explain how Clarice came to know the Indian, whom, at the first moment, no one else had recognized. Not far off, in a grove of Cottonwood trees up the valley, there came forth from the side of the hill a spring of singularly bright and cool water, of which Uncle Jeff was particularly fond; as were, indeed, the rest of us.
Whenever he saw my eyes directed towards him, he turned away, and appeared to be thinking only of the food he was eating. I have elsewhere alluded to my talent as an artist. While Winnemak was with us, I had made a tolerably fair portrait of him; indeed, it was considered a good likeness, and was hung up against the wall.
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