This Wingenund was a Shawnee chief who was known and respected by many of the whites for the sterling qualities he possessed. He was brave, honorable, and—what was almost a paradox in a Shawnee—was merciful. He had taken little part, in the frontier wars, although, in the battles with other Indian tribes, he was the bravest among the brave. He was a middle-aged man, of much intelligence, and often visited the different settlements. He spoke the English language very fluently, and avoided that extravagant manner of expression so common among the North American Indians. Hence, the astonishment of Edwards was natural at seeing him in such a suspicious attitude. “What is the matter, Wingenund? You would not take my life, would you?” “I did not know you, good man, and came near doing it. But Wingenund will never harm you.” “Nor any other white man, I hope.” “Wingenund has dug up the hatchet, and it shall never be buried again until it has drank the blood of the cowardly white men.” “What does this mean, good friend? I thought you were our friend.” “I _was_, good man, but am no longer.” “Not the friend of our settlement?” “I am the friend of no man in whom a drop of pale-faced blood runs, except of Simon Girty and his men.” “Are you not a friend to me, good Wingenund?” “If we meet in battle, there is nothing but enmity between us.” “I am sorry for that, but I trust we shall never meet thus. But, Wingenund, let me ask the meaning of this change, although I fear I know the reason already.” “Have you been yonder?” asked the savage, pointing his hand back of him. “I have only just returned,” replied the divine. “You have seen the Moravian Indians?” “I have seen them, Wingenund.” “And yet you ask why I have dug up the hatchet!” “But, remember, Wingenund, that none of us undertake to justify the cause of Williamson, and why should you seek to take vengeance upon the innocent?” The chieftain’s brow grew darker still as he replied: “It cannot do, good man; the tribes who have fought each other will unite together to make war upon you. I have passed through the villages and stirred them up. I told them what Williamson and his men had done, and that was enough. You must beware now.”