Red Eagle and Blackstaffe were talking in Shawnee, every word of which Henry heard and understood. They sat in Turkish fashion upon the ground, on the same side of the fire, and the blaze flickered redly over the face of each. They were strong faces, primitive, fierce and cunning, but in different ways. The evil fame of Moses Blackstaffe, second only to that of Simon Girty, had been won by many a ruthless deed and undoubted skill and cunning. Yet he was a white man who had departed from the white man's ways. Red Eagle, the great Shawnee chief, was older, past fifty, and his bronzed face was lined deeply. His broad brow and the eyes set wide apart, expressed intellect--the Indian often had intellect in a high degree. He too was cruel, able to look upon the unmentionable tortures of his foes with pleasure, but it was a cruelty that was a part of his inheritance, the common practices of all the tribes, bred into the blood, through untold generations of forest life. Henry felt a certain respect for Red Eagle, but none at all for Blackstaffe. Him he hated, with that fierceness of the forest, some of which had crept into his blood, and if he met him in battle he would gladly send a bullet through his heart. The man's face, burnt almost as dark as that of an Indian, showed now in its most sinister aspect. He was suffering from chagrin, and he did not take the trouble to hide it, even from so great a man as Red Eagle, head chief of the Shawnees. They were talking of Wyatt and the band they had left behind for the siege, and Henry, with a touch of forest humor, enjoyed himself as he listened. "We did not see well those with whom we fought tonight and who escaped us," said Red Eagle, "but they showed themselves to be warriors, great white warriors. They were more than a match for my young men." "It is true," said Blackstaffe. "I didn't see them at all, but only the five whom we left besieged in the cave could do what they did." "But Wyatt and good warriors hold them there." "So they hoped, but do they, Red Eagle? The manner in which those scouts escaped from our circle makes me believe their leader could have been none but this Henry Ware." "One of them was outside the cave. He may have come through the forest and have met other white men." "It might be so, but I'm afraid it isn't. They have broken the siege in some manner and have eluded Wyatt. I had hoped that if he could not kill or capture them he would at least hold them there. It is not well for us to have them hanging upon our army and ambushing the warriors." "You speak wisely, Blackstaffe. The one they call Ware is only a youth, but he is full of wisdom and bravery. There was an affair of the belt bearers, in which he tricked even Yellow Panther and myself. If we could capture him and make him become one of us, a red warrior to fight the white people to whom he once belonged, he would add much to our strength in war." Blackstaffe shook his head most emphatically.