I know that--but am I a Delaware ?" "Why does my son ask ?" "Because a bird of the air whispered to me--'You are not a Delaware, nor a Tuscarora, nor a Dacotah; you are a pale face.' Did the bird lie!" The old woman did not answer.
"_Ma mere_," said Verty, tenderly taking the old woman's hand and sitting at her feet, "the Great Spirit has made me honest and open--I cannot conceal anything.

I cannot pry and search.

I might find out this from some other person--who knows?
But I will not try.

Come! speak with a straight tongue.

Am I the son of a brave; am I a Delaware; or am I what my face makes me out--a Long-knife ?" "Ough! ough! ough!" groaned the old woman; "he wants to go, away from the nest where he was warmed, and nursed, and brought up.