The man in the canoe dropped his paddle and seized his gun, then, looking toward the shore, saw a tall, athletic man, unarmed, with the palm of his hand extended. The man in the canoe, seeing this sign of amity, advanced to the shore, and saw that the stranger was an Indian in white man’s dress. Delaware? exclaimed Quick in English. Yes, replied Cahoonshee in the same language. Delaware in search of his old home and friends in the mountains. My brother speaks like a white man, but looks like an Indian; said Quick. I am no white man, I am an Indian, all Indian. Not a drop of white man’s blood runs in my veins. I am Cahoonshee. Cahoonshee! exclaimed Quick. They were once a powerful and a brave tribe, but the last of them have passed away. Their lodges have rotted down; their fields are covered with thorns and briars, and their braves have gone to the spirit-land; not one of them is left; the echo of their voices are no longer heard on the Steynekill. Does my brother know that country? asked Cahoonshee; Do you know the Steynekill? Do you know the silver lakes and the beaver dams? Yes, I know them all. I have traveled over the mountains, trapped in the rivers and fished in the brooks. But there are no Cahoonshees there now. Where did they go to? The last of their braves were scalped by the Salamanques years ago, replied Quick. At this disclosure, Cahoonshee drew his hand across his eyes and remained motionless. It was evident that he was struggling with his feelings. He swung to and fro, like a tree in a gale. Did my brother have kin with the Cahoonshees? asked Quick. Yes, all my kin. Father, mother, brother, sister—I am alone, not even a brother. Better that I had been there and died with them. No, brother, you wrong the Great Spirit, who does all things well. But you have a brother, we are all brothers. Come, Cahoonshee, go with me to my house, and to-morrow I will go with you to the grave of your fathers. Cahoonshee stepped into the canoe, and in a few minutes landed at Milford, the home of Quick. Cahoonshee partook of the white man’s hospitality with grace and ease, after which, he related his history from early boyhood, his capture, and subsequent voyage to England, his being made a show of there, his education, and return home. Quick was interested in his history, but what most interested him, was the education and manly appearance of his Indian guest. After Cahoonshee had finished his story, he placed his hand to the side of his face, and seemed to be absorbed in some deep study from which Quick could not arouse him. Will my brother go to bed? asked Quick. No, replied Cahoonshee, white man sleep, Indian think. At first Quick thought there might be some Indian deviltry behind all this apparent friendship. Indian sleep, white man guard the fire, replied Quick. Cahoonshee seemed to be stung by this mistrust.