bly, betrayed the more predominant temper
of a tyrant.

When all were present, an aged warrior lighted the great pipe of his
people, and blew the smoke towards the four quarters of the heavens. So
soon as this propitiatory offering was made, he tendered it to Mahtoree,
who, in affected humility, passed it to a grey-headed chief by his side.
After the influence of the soothing weed had been courted by all, a
grave silence succeeded, as if each was not only qualified to, but
actually did, think more deeply on the matters before them. Then an old
Indian arose, and spoke as follows:--

"The eagle, at the falls of the endless river, was in its egg, many
snows after my hand had struck a Pawnee. What my tongue says, my eyes
have seen. Bohrecheena is very old. The hills have stood longer in their
places, than he has been in his tribe, and the rivers were full and
empty, before he was born; but where is the Sioux that knows it besides
himself? What he says, they will hear. If any of his words fall to the
ground, they will pick them up and hold them to their ears. If any blow
away in the wind, my young men, who are very nimble, will catch them.
Now listen. Since water ran and trees grew, the Sioux has found the
Pawnee on his war-path. As the cougar loves the antelope, the Dahcotah
loves his enemy. When the wolf finds the fawn, does he lie down and
sleep? When the panther sees the doe at the spring, does he shut his
eyes? You know that he does not. He drinks too; but it is of blood! A
Sioux is a leaping panther, a Pawnee a trembling deer. Let my children
hear me. They will find my words good. I have spoken."

A deep guttural exclamation of assent broke from the lips of all the
partisans of Mahtoree, as they listened to this sanguinary advice from
one, who was certainly among the most aged men of the nation. That
deeply seated love of vengeance, which formed so prominent a feature in
their characters, was gratified by his metaphorical allusions, and the
chief himself augured favourably of the success of his own schemes, by
the number of supporters, who manifested themselves to be in favour of
the counsels of his friend. But still unanimity was far from prevailing.
A long and decorous pause was suffered to succeed the words of the first
speaker, in order that all might duly deliberate on their wisdom, before
another chief took on himself the office of refutation. The second
orator, though past the prime of his days, was far less a