idence of several commanders of small garrisons, among
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
reasonably for their right, first."

"Buy Nick's land, den--better dan any oder."

"Your land, knave!--You own no land--belong to no tribe--have no rights
to sell."

"What for ask Nick help, den?"

"What for?--Why because you _know_ a good deal, though you own
literally nothing. That's what for."

"Buy Nick _know_, den. Better dan he great fader _know_, down
at York."

"That is just what I do wish to purchase. I will pay you well, Nick, if
you will start to-morrow, with your rifle and a pocket-compass, off
here towards the head-waters of the Susquehannah and Delaware, where
the streams run rapidly, and where there are no fevers, and bring me an
account of three or four thousand acres of rich bottom-land, in such a
way as a surveyor can find it, and I can get a patent for it. What say
you, Nick; will you go?"

"He not wanted. Nick sell 'e captain, his own land: here in 'e fort."

"Knave, do you not know me well enough not to trifle, when I am
serious?"

"Nick ser'ous too--Moravian priest no ser'ouser more dan Nick at dis
moment. Got land to sell."

Captain Willoughby had found occasion to punish the Tuscarora, in the
course