He's a Shawnee chief.

There he goes through the willows!" By this time Jim and Mr.Wells, Mrs.Wentz and the girls had joined the group.

They all watched Silvertip get into his canoe and paddle away.
"A bad sign," said Wentz, and then, turning to Jeff Lynn, who joined the party at that moment, he briefly explained the circumstances.
"Never did like Silver.

He's a crafty redskin, an' not to be trusted," replied Jeff.
"He has turned round and is looking back," Nell said quickly.
"So he has," observed the fur-trader.
The Indian was now several hundred yards down the swift river, and for an instant had ceased paddling.

The sun shone brightly on his eagle plumes.