one, Waubeno said to Jasper:

"Pardon, brother; _he_ is not _the_ man--my promise to my father holds.
They teach well, but they do not do well: it is the doing that speaks to
the heart. The chief that buried his hatchet is a plumb fool, else the
white chief would do so too. I have spoken!"

He sat down in silence and looked out upon the lake, on which the waves
were breaking into foam in the purple distances. His face had an injured
look, and his eyes glowed.

He arose at last and raised his hand, and said:

"I will pay them all some day!--"

Then he turned to Jasper and marked his disappointed face, and added:

"I will be true to you. Waubeno will be true to you."

CHAPTER XII.

THE WHITE INDIAN OF CHICAGO.

One morning, as Jasper threw aside the curtain of skins that answered
for a door to his cabin, a strange sight met his eyes. In the clearing
between the cabin and the lake stood the tall form of an Indian. It was
the most noble and beautiful form that he had ever seen, and the
Indian's face and hands were white.

Jasper stood silent. The white Indian bent his eyes upon him, and the
two looked in surprise at each other.

The Indian's eyes were dark, and like the eyes of the native races; but
his nose was Roman, and his skin English, with a slight brown tinge. His
hair was long and curly, and tinged with brown.

"Waubeno," said Jasper, "who is that?"

Waubeno came to the entrance of the cabin, and said:

"The white Indian. _They_ bring good. Speak to him. It is a good sign."

"They?" said Jasper. "I never knew that there were white Indians,
Waubeno. Where do they live? Where do they come from?"

"From the Great River. They come and go, and come and go, and they are
unlike other Indians. They know things that other Indians do not know.
They have a book that talks to them. It came from heaven."

Jasper stepped out on to the clearing, and Waubeno followed him. The
white Indian awaited their approach.

"Welcome, stranger," said Jasper. "Where are you journeying from?"

"From the Great River (Mississippi) to the land of the lakes. They are
coming, coming, my brothers from over the sea, as the prophet said. I
have not seen you here before. I am glad that you have come."

"Where do you live?" asked Jasper.

"My tribe is few, and they wander. They wander till the brothers come.
We are not like other people here, though all the tribes treat us well
and give us food and shelter. We are wanderer