d, not
the slightest chance of escape presented itself. He saw the renegades
about, Braxton Wyatt among them, but none of these men spoke to him. It
was evident to him, however, from the respectful manner in which the
Wyandots treated Girty that he had great influence among them.

The warriors seemed to be in no hurry about anything. The hunters were
bringing in plenty of game, and the village life went forward merrily.
But Henry judged that they were merely waiting. It was inconceivable
that the Wyandots should remain there long in peace while the Indian
world of all that great valley was seething with movement.

Timmendiquas came to see him at the end of the sixth day of
purification, and treated him with the courtesy due from a great chief
to a distinguished prisoner.

"Have our warriors been kind to you?" he asked.

"They have done everything except let me slip away," replied Henry.

Timmendiquas smiled.

"That is the one thing that we do not wish," he said. "They think as I
do that you are fit to be a Wyandot. Come, I will loose your hands, and
together we will see our young men and young women play ball."

Henry was not at all averse. Both his nature and his long but friendly
captivity in a far northwestern tribe made him have a keen sympathy with
many traits in the Indian character. He could understand and like their
sports.

"I'll go gladly, White Lightning," he said. "I don't think you need ask
me to give any promise not to escape. I won't find any such chance."

The chief smiled with pleasure at the compliment, undid the bonds, and
the two walked out into the brilliant sunshine. Henry felt at once that
the village was tingling with excitement. All were hurrying toward a
wide grassy meadow just at the outskirts of the village, and the
majority of them, especially the young of either sex, laughed and
chattered volubly. There was no restraint. Here among themselves the
Indian repression was thrown aside.

Henry, with the shadow of great suffering and death over him, felt their
thrill and excitement. The day was uncommonly fine, and the setting of
the forest scene was perfect. There was the village, trim and neat in
its barbaric way, which in the sunshine was not an unpleasant way, with
the rich meadows about it, and beyond the great wilderness of heavy,
circling dark green.

All were now gathered at the edge of the meadow, still laughing,
chattering, and full of delight. Even the great Timmendiquas,