ak to you. A wise warrior opens his
ears, when he hears the voice of his enemy. He may learn something it
will be good for him to know. It will be good for you to know what I
am about to say.

"Brother, you are a pale-face, and we are Injins. You wish to get our
hunting-grounds, and we wish to keep them. To keep them, it has become
necessary to take your scalp. I hope you are ready to let us have it."

The corporal had but an indifferent knowledge of the Indian language,
but he comprehended all that was uttered on this occasion. Interest
quickened his faculties, and no part of what was said was lost. The
gentle, slow, deliberate manner in which The Weasel delivered himself,
contributed to his means of understanding. He was fortunately prepared
for what he heard, and the announcement of his approaching fate did not
disturb him to the degree of betraying weakness. This last was a
triumph in which the Indians delighted, though they ever showed the
most profound respect for such of their victims as manifested a manly
fortitude. It was necessary to reply, which the corporal did in
English, knowing that several present could interpret his words. With
a view to render this the more easy, he spoke in fragments of
sentences, and with great deliberation.

"Injins," returned the corporal, "you surrounded me, and I have been
taken prisoner--had there been a platoon on us, you mightn't have made
out quite so well. It's no great victory for three hundred warriors to
overcome a single man. I count Parson Amen as worse than nothing, for
he looked to neither rear nor flank. If I could have half an hour's
work upon you, with only half of our late company, I think we should
lower your conceit. But that is impossible, and so you may do just
what you please with me. I ask no favors."

Although this answer was very imperfectly translated, it awakened a
good deal of admiration. A man who could look death so closely in the
face, with so much steadiness, became a sort of hero in Indian eyes;
and with the North American savage, fortitude is a virtue not inferior
to courage. Murmurs of approbation were heard, and Ungque was
privately requested to urge the captive further, in order to see how
far present appearances were likely to be maintained.

"Brother, I have said that we are Injins," resumed The Weasel, with an
air so humble, and a voice so meek, that a stranger might have supposed
he was consoling, instead of endeavor