ttended by six of the
principal chiefs, carrying green boughs in token of amity, advanced
towards the mouth of the gorge. Mr. Hardy, with five of the whites, and
with Perez to interpret, advanced to meet him.

When the two groups met, the Raven commenced gravely, in the Indian
language: 'The white chief of the flying fire is mighty, and the Great
Spirit has blinded his children. They carried off the little White Bird,
but they did not harm her. Bad men would have harmed her, but the Raven
stood by her side. The great white chief has taken back his little White
Bird, and he has killed the men whom the Great Spirit blinded. Why
should there be any more war? The Indians are brave; they have cattle,
and sheep, and water. They can live out of reach of the white chiefs
guns, and can fight if the white chief comes out against them. The white
chief is strong, and he can defend the pass, but he cannot venture out
to attack. They are equal. There is no cause of quarrel any longer. Let
us bury the hatchet. The white chief's young men can take horses,--for
the Indians have many,--to take them back to their homes. They can take
cattle to eat. Let there be peace.'

This address of the Raven was a very politic one. He already knew that
Mr. Hardy was willing to grant terms, but he wished to show the other
chiefs that he supported the honour of the tribe by boasting of their
power and resources, and by making the peace as upon equal terms.

When the Guacho had translated their proposal, Mr. Hardy spoke, using
the phraseology which would be most intelligible to the Indians.

'The Raven is a great chief; he has spoken wisely. The little White Bird
has sung in the white chief's ear that the Raven stood by her side when
bad Indians would have hurt her. The bad Indians are dead. The Great
Spirit frowned upon them. The white chief has no quarrel with the Raven
and his friends. Let there be peace.'

A general expression of satisfaction pervaded both parties when it was
known that peace was arranged; and one of each side hurrying back with
the news, the rest went into the village, where, sitting down before
the principal hut, the pipe of peace was solemnly smoked.

The two parties then mingled amicably, mutually pleased at the
termination to the hostilities; and no one would have guessed that a few
hours before they had met in deadly strife. The Raven courteously
invited the whites to stop for a night at the village; but the
invitation wa