“If a Siwanois marries a Mohican woman, of what nation are the children, my new brother, Loskiel?”

“Mohican,” I said in surprise, — “or so it is among the Iroquois,” and the next moment could have bitten off my tongue for vexation that I should have so clumsily reminded a Sagamore of a subject nation of his servitude, by assuming that the Lenni-Lenape had conformed even to the racial customs of their conquerors.

The hot flush now staining my face did not escape him, and what he thought of my stupid answer to him or of my embarrassment, I did not know. His calm countenance had not altered — not even had his eyes changed, which features are quickest to alter when Indians betray emotion.

I said in a mortified voice: