“Little John of the Nolichucky is a brave man. The Great Spirit has caused him to be so.” Sevier stepped back and, holding the knife by the tip, extended it, saying: “My medicine is strong without this. John Watts would be a great man if he did not listen to the evil talks sent him by Alexander McGillivray.” “You would not say these things to McGillivray of the Creeks.” “All, and more. Now I demand to see the man Polcher, who killed a white man.” “You shall see him,” quietly promised the chief. And with a deep bow Watts dropped the knife in his belt and led his warriors from the room. Sevier knew enough of the Indian character to realize that never had he stood as high in Chief Watts’ estimation as now. This knowledge deceived him none as to his danger, however. Even if Polcher should fail to erase this last impression, the chief would persist in believing the future of his race depended on the elimination of all white settlements west of the Alleghanies. To preserve his people he would use whatever tools came at hand, whether furnished by Creek, Spaniard or the Evil One himself. Now that the over-mountain men were disowned and told to find a guardian in the handicapped central Government, the wily leader realized the Cherokee Nation stood at the threshold of its destiny. Sevier represented the element opposing the red man’s ascendancy; therefore, he must be removed. No man had ever been more highly esteemed by the Indians as a fighter, and the full measure of praise would be given him even while the sentence of death was being carried out. Sevier had found this recognition of merit to be a characteristic of every Indian tribe with which he had had dealings. Torture and the torments of hell would be accompanied by the sincere acknowledgment of the victim’s virtues. Sevier stepped to a window and noticed the guard on that side had been withdrawn. A similar inspection on the other three sides revealed the same negligence. But the borderer was not to be decoyed into imagining he could escape to the forest by a sudden rush. He knew he was circled about by sharp weapons and sharper eyes and that, should he attempt to escape, he would be despatched off-hand. Such an ending of his captivity would relieve Watts from any censure on the part of Old Tassel and his faction. Leaning from an open window, Sevier found the invitation to attempt an escape was accented by the absence of even the women and children. The village appeared to be deserted. He smiled grimly at such a transparent ruse. He had fought too many times with the nation, had whipped it too often, to imagine the warriors would neglect any oversight that would insure his captivity. And yet the manœuvre made him think more kindly of Watts. The chief fought for the future of his people; he preferred to remove the stumbling-block in the council-house without brutality.