such an army that the very name Pawnee will be forgotten." He arose, and his flashing blue eyes marked Boy Scar Head huddled upon a roll of buffalo-robes. "Who is that boy?" he asked.
"He is my son," Charakterik answered.
"He cannot be your son," reproved Chief Pike. "He is white, you are red. I think he is an American. Where did you get him?"
"He is my son. I have adopted him," White Wolf insisted. "I got him from the Utahs."
"Where are his parents?"
"I am his parent. I do not know anything more."
"You must give him up. He is not an Indian," said Chief Pike.
"He is a Pawnee. Why should I give him up?" argued Charakterik.
"Because the great father wishes all captives to be given up. The Potawatomi had many captives from the Osage. They have been given up. There cannot be good feeling between people when they hold captives from each other. I ask you to send this boy down river. Two French traders are in your town now. You can send the boy with them."
"I will think upon what you say," White Wolf replied.
