The two, the white and the red, kings of
their kind, confronted each other across the marsh.
"What do you wish with me, Timmendiquas?" asked Henry. In the
presence of the great Wyandot chief the feeling of hate and
revenge that had held his heart vanished. He knew that Paul and
Shif'less Sol would have sunk under the ruthless tomahawk of
Queen Esther, if it had not been for White Lightning. He himself
had owed him his life on another and more distant occasion, and
he was not ungrateful. So there was warmth in his tone when he
spoke.
"Let us meet at the edge of the solid ground," said Timmendiquas,
"I have things to say that are important and that you will be
glad to hear."
Henry walked without hesitation to the edge of the swamp, and the
young chief, coming forward, met him. Henry held out his hand in
white fashion, and the young chief took it. There was no sound
either from the swamp or from those who lay behind the logs on
the island, but some of the eyes of those hidden in the swamps
watched both with burning hatred.
"I wish to tell you, Ware," said Timmendiquas, speaking with the
dignity becoming a great chief, "that it was not I who led the
pursuit of the white men's women and children.
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