Much she wondered concerning the strange new life into which she was hurrying. Her woman’s heart quaked at the dangers she must face, but her woman’s soul, burning high with zeal to serve her people, bore her on. If for a moment the thought that she was to play a treacherous part, to worm her way into the Americans’ confidence in order to betray them, came to vex her she drove it back. For years the Long Knives had cheated her people, had lied to them, had despoiled them, had slain them. Treaty after treaty they had made, determining boundaries which they swore not to cross; and then, the moment they grew strong enough to take another forward step, they had broken their pledges and had surged forward, driving her people back. Treachery for treachery. Against such shameless foes all things were fair. If she could requite them some small proportion of the woe they had dealt out to her and hers she would glory in the deed. Afterwards, if they detected her they might slay her as they pleased--burn her at the stake if they would. She would show them how a Shawnee could die. Concerning the man in the red coat she thought very little. She might have to think of him again at some time in the future, but for the moment he was one of the things she was leaving behind. He was an Englishman and therefore her ally, but he was her father’s foe and therefore hers. After she had done her duty, after these shameless Americans had been driven back, after the hatchet had been buried in victory for her tribe, she would consider what he had offered. For the moment she merely wondered idly whether he had come to America really desirous of putting her in her place across the water or whether he had come in order to kill her and take her estates. Either alternative seemed entirely possible to Alagwa’s Indian-trained mind. He was of her clan and therefore bound to aid her loyally. But he was her father’s foe and therefore was free to kill her and take her property. She would be slow to trust him. Fortunately she did not have to trust him now. It never once crossed the girl’s mind that Captain Count Brito might wish to wed her rather than kill her or that by so doing he could easily get possession of her property. Among the Indians the lover gave presents to the father of his bride; he did not receive them with her. But, concerning the young chief from the south of whom Tecumseh had spoken, she did think long and dubiously. Would she meet him among the whites to whom she was going and would she know him if she did meet him? Had he come to Ohio at all, or had his heart failed him as he faced the long trail to the north? Had he, like all other Americans, spoken with a forked tongue when he promised to come? Had he scorned his Indian-bred cousin, as she knew his people scorned the Indians?