Howsumever, it's whut he seed an' heerd, Cap, thet sounds mighty queer ter me.

He sez thar wus mor'n fifty bucks in thet party, an' that ol' Black Hawk wus thar hisself, a leadin' 'em'-- he done saw him." I turned, surprised at this statement, to stare into the boy's face.
He half grinned back at me, vacantly.
"Black Hawk! He could scarcely be down here; what did he look like ?" "'Bout six feet high, I reckon, with a big hooked nose, an' the blackest pair o' mean eyes ever yer saw.

I reckon he didn't hav' no eyebrows, an' he wore a bunch o' eagle feathers, an' a red blanket.
Gosh' Mister, but the Devil cudn't look no worse'n he did." "Wus thet him, Cap ?" burst in Tim, anxiously.
"It's not a bad description," I admitted, yet not convinced.

"I can't believe he would be here with a raiding party.

If he was, there must be some important object in view.