"And you, Pigeonswing--by your manner of talking I had set you down
for a king's Injin, too."

"TALK so--no FEEL bit so. MY heart Yankee."

"And have you not had a belt of wampum sent you, as well as the rest
of them?"

"Dat true--got him--don't keep him."

"What! did you dare to send it back?"

"Ain't fool, dough young. Keep him; no keep him. Keep him for Canada
fadder; no keep him for Chippewa brave."

"What have you then done with your belt?"

"Bury him where nobody find him dis war. No--Waubkenewh no hole in
heart to let king in."

Pigeonswing, as this young Indian was commonly called in his tribe,
in consequence of the rapidity of his movement when employed as a
runner, had a much more respectable name, and one that he had fairly
earned in some of the forays of his people, but which the commonalty
had just the same indisposition to use as the French have to call
Marshal Soult the Duc de Dalmatie. The last may be the most
honorable title, but it is not that by which he is the best known to
his countrymen. Waubkenewh was an appellation, notwithstanding, of
which the young Chippewa was justly proud; and he often asserted his