The Hidden Children by Robert William Chambers Chapter 12 Page 22

“It was in my pack.”

“You have not worn it before. Why do you wear it now?”

“It is looser in time of need.”

“Very well. Stand still.” I whipped out my knife and, bunching the faintly tinkling thrums in my fingers, severed the tin points and tossed them into the darkness.

“I can understand,” said I, “a horse-riding Indian of the plains galloping into battle all over cow-bells, but never before have I heard of any forest Indian wearing such a fringe in time of war.”

The rebuke seemed to stun the Wyandotte. He kept his face averted while I spoke, then at my brief word stepped forward into his place between myself and the Mohican.