ched it
Outchipouac slipped in. He felt me over, and patted my moist skin
approvingly. Then he sat by my side and began to talk.

His talk at first was a chant, a saga, a recitation of the glories of
his ancestors. The Malhominis had been a proud race,--now they were
dwindled to this village of eighty braves. He crooned long tales of
famine, of tribal bickerings, of ambuscade and defeat; his voice
rustled monotonously like wind in dried grass.

Then his tone rose. He spoke of the present, its possibilities. The
Iroquois league was a scourge, a pestilence. Could it be abolished,
the western nations would return to health. Security would reign, and
tribal laws be respected. The French would be friends,
partners,--never masters,--and a golden age would descend upon the
west. It was the gospel that I had cried in the wilderness, but
phrased in finer imagery than mine. I felt the wooing of his argument,
even as I had wooed others, and I listened silently and watched the
lightning's play.

But I dreaded the moment when his argument should leave theory and face
me in the concrete. The change came suddenly, as in music a tender
melody will merge abruptly into a summons to arms. He called me to
witness. The Iroquois were at the gates. They outnumbered the
Malhominis, but the Sacs, the Chippewas, and the Winnebagoes were all
within a day's journey, and would come at my call. The time for the
alliance of which I had told them was at hand. My body was crippled
but my brain was whole. To-morrow he, the chief, at my bidding, and
with my watchword, would send runners through the tribes. Within the
week a giant force could be gathered and an attack made. The Iroquois
camp would be exterminated, and then I, at the head of the force, could
march where I willed. Never had the western tribes followed a white
man, but I had called their hearts from their bodies, and they would go.

But one thing I was to remember. He, Outchipouac, the chief, was my
brother in arms. He had rescued me, clothed me, furnished me the means
of war. My victories were his victories. These were his conditions.
All Iroquois slaves that might be captured were to belong to the
Malhominis to be incorporated in their tribe. The other tribes could
divide the plunder, but the Malhominis needed new blood for adoption.
I must agree to that.

He stopped. I was too sick of mind to speak, and my distemper was not
of my wound. I had builded for