"Shawnees know here ?" "Know me here?
Guesses not; don't care if dey does, nor dey doesn't care neider." "Shawnees won't come here ?" "No, no, Oonomoo, you needn't be afraid--" "Afraid who ?" demanded the Huron, with quick fierceness.

"Oonomoo never run afore one--two--t'ree--dozen Shawnees.

He only runs when dey comes like de leaves in de woods." "Dey won't come like de leaves.

If dey does, why you can leave too, and I t'inks you know how to use dem legs dat you've got tacked onto you.

I t'inks you run as fast as me." "So I t'inks," replied the Indian, with a grin.
"Dere's no mistake but dem Shawnees would like to get your scalp, Oonomoo." "Two--t'ree--hundreds--all Shawnees like to git Oonomoo's scalp--nebber git him--Oonomee die in his lodge--scalp on his head," said the Huron, proudly.
"I hopes so; hopes I will, too." The expression of the Indian's face was changed.