whom was our captain. No sooner was the mind of the latter made up,
concerning his future course, than he sent for Nick, who was then in
the fort; when the following conversation took place:

"Nick," commenced the captain, passing his hand over his brow, as was
his wont when in a reflecting mood; "Nick, I have an important movement
in view, in which you can be of some service to me."

The Tuscarora, fastening his dark basilisk-like eyes on the soldier,
gazed a moment, as if to read his soul; then he jerked a thumb
backward, over his own shoulder, and said, with a grave smile--

"Nick understand. Want six, two, scalp off Frenchman's head; wife and
child; out yonder, over dere, up in Canada. Nick do him--what you
give?"

"No, you red rascal, I want nothing of the sort--it is peace now, (this
conversation took place in 1764), and you know I never bought a scalp,
in time of war. Let me hear no more of this."

"What you want, _den_?" asked Nick, like one who was a good deal
puzzled.

"I want land--_good_ land--little, but _good_. I am about to
get a grant--a patent--"

"Yes," interrupted Nick, nodding; "I know _him_--paper to take
away Indian's hunting-ground."

"Why, I have no wish to do that--I am willing to pay the red men