"The white father is free," continued Wingenund. "Let one of my
runners conduct him to the Village of Peace."
A brave entered and touched Jim on the shoulder.
Jim shook his head and pointed to Joe. The runner touched Joe.
"No, no. I am not the missionary," cried Joe, staring aghast at his
brother. "Jim, have you lost your senses?"
Jim sadly shook his head, and turning to Wingenund made known in a
broken Indian dialect that his brother was the missionary, and would
sacrifice himself, taking this opportunity to practice the
Christianity he had taught.
"The white father is brave, but he is known," broke in Wingenund's
deep voice, while he pointed to the door of the lodge. "Let him go
back to his Christian Indians."
The Indian runner cut Joe's bonds, and once more attempted to lead
him from the lodge. Rage and misery shown in the lad's face. He
pushed the runner aside. He exhausted himself trying to explain, to
think of Indian words enough to show he was not the missionary. He
even implored Girty to speak for him. When the renegade sat there
stolidly silent Joe's rage burst out.
"Curse you all for a lot of ignorant redskins. I am not a
missionary. I am Deathwind's friend. I killed a Delaware. I was the
companion of Le Vent de la Mort!"
Joe's passionate vehemence, and the truth that spoke from his
flashing eyes compelled the respect, if not the absolute belief of
the Indians.
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