“Laughing Eyes left her moccasin in the wigwam of her paleface friends. We kept the moccasin because we love Laughing Eyes. We found her when she strayed away from the tribe and we gave her back to her father, Painted Feathers, the big chief.”
As the boy spoke, Painted Feathers nodded his great head slowly, and his cruel face softened a little. Eli was quick to see the advantage that he had gained and he acted upon it.
“A strange pale face has come to the cabin. He measures the land in the valley, but he is the friend of the Indians. He will protect their hunting grounds and keep away strange tribes from the west. Will Painted Feathers say ‘how’ to the stranger?” Eli asked, his voice trembling a little at what might be the outcome of his bold request.
Painted Feathers held the little moccasin in his hand now, the touch of it warming and softening his stony heart. Then he slowly nodded his head in assent, stalking nearer the cabin door.
“Come, George,” cried Eli breathlessly. “Come out and meet your friend, Painted Feathers, the big chief.”
In the flaring light of the torches, the great Indian solemnly shook hands with the boy surveyor. Then, as the two boys stood in the doorway, the chief went back to the fire and gave a quick order to the braves. In a second their fearful death dance was changed to the slow, stately steps of a dance of welcome. At its end they put out the fire, and filed silently back into the forest.
Snuggled under bearskins in front of the warm hearth, the two boys slept but little that night, and talked a great deal about their wonderful adventure.
“You needn’t be afraid to go in the morning, George,” Eli assured the boy surveyor. “Painted Feathers’ tribe is the only band of Indians anywhere around here, and now that he knows you are his friend, he won’t harm you.”
“I shall never forget you, Eli,” said George. “You have taught me how to be brave.”
His companions found the lad in the morning and, with many thanks and assurances of his friendship, the young surveyor left the settler’s cabin and started to finish his work and his trip.
More than a score of years passed. Where the trees had grown there was a town now, and the cabin itself was replaced by a comfortable frame dwelling. Eli’s mother was an old lady and he, a man grown. It was a time of much stress for America, the period of the Revolution.