“Si, Señor,” replied the lieutenant and respectfully bowed.
He took Timpoochee by the shoulder and turned him toward the door to exit.
“Begging the general’s pardon, sir,” came a voice from the dark corner of the room. It was the soldier Timpoochee thought he recognized from the Yonega settlement.
“I believe I know this man,” continued the soldier. I have seen him in the company of the Indian trader, William Panton.
“Very well, Colonel Dickson,” said the general, in English. “Who is he and why has he been brought to me and presented as something less than a warrior?”
Timpoochee understood some of the English words and welcomed them.
“I believe his name is Timpoochee,” said Dickson. “Our troops call him Timpoochee Kinnard or, sometimes, Sam Story. He is Ugalu, chief, leader of a large community in the great mountains of the Blue Ridge, the land his people call, Shaconage.”
Timpoochee, delighting in the understood words, nodded his agreement.
“His are not a warrior people,” Dickson said. “Only a short year or two ago they made a pledge of peace and to my knowledge he has never gone back on that pledge.”
Timpoochee straightened his back.
“He speaks correctly,” he said to the general, nodding to Dickson. “Our pledge was made to honor the spirit of Yufala Tastanagi Ugalu. It will never be broken.”
“All pledges are made to be broken,” General Galvez chortled. “That is their only true purpose. Isn’t that right, Col. Dickson?”