The young Indian wheeled about and returned, took the chubby hand again in his, and with tender gravity shook it gently, very gently. As he did so, a mistiness came over his bright, wild eyes, which, when he had turned again to go, must--if ever Indian warrior weeps--have gathered into a tear. With wistful eyes, Burl and Bushie followed the swiftly receding form of their red friend, who never turned to look at them till he had gained the crest of a distant hill to the north. Here he faced about and remained for many moments gazing back at them; his graceful figure, his wild dress, and his rifle in sharp relief against a patch of blue sky, gleaming through an opening in the forest beyond. In final farewell Burl waved his cap. Kumshakah answered with a wide wave of the hand; then, turning, quickly vanished behind the hill, to be seen no more. With sorrowful hearts, Burl and Bushie turned likewise, and retraced their steps to Fort Reynolds. From that day forward, never again did Captain Reynolds, the Fighting Nigger, the Big Black Brave with a Bushy Head, Mish-mugwa, lay the bloody hand on the scalp-lock of a fallen foe. Chapter XVII. HOW THE GLORY OF HIS RACE FIGURED IN HIS RISING. Listen! There lived an Indian--a sachem of the powerful and warlike Shawnees; an Indian who loved his wild people, his wild land, and his wild freedom dearer than his life, and for their defense and weal he labored, and fought and died. Why and how, and to what end--listen! The sachem looked around him. He saw his people, wasted to but the shadow of what they once were, slowly moving toward the setting sun. He saw them at deadly strife one with another--tribe with tribe, and kindred with kindred. He marked how they were falling away from the sober lives and pure faith of their fathers, and losing their wild independence in the slothful and corrupting habits of vagabond existence. He beheld his native wilderness gradually waning as from before a slow-approaching, far-extended fire. In terror at the sight, the animals of the chase, so needful to man in the savage state, went flitting by, outstripping his people in their journey toward the setting sun.