ssing, and then he rode into
the centre of the place, and invited the other, by a courteous gesture,
to approach. Hard-Heart drew nigh, until he found himself at a distance
equally suited to advance or to retreat, and, in his turn, he came to a
stand, keeping his glowing eye riveted on that of his enemy. A long
and grave pause succeeded this movement, during which these two
distinguished braves, who were now, for the first time, confronted, with
arms in their hands, sat regarding each other, like warriors who knew
how to value the merits of a gallant foe, however hated. But the mien of
Mahtoree was far less stern and warlike than that of the partisan of
the Loups. Throwing his shield over his shoulder, as if to invite the
confidence of the other, he made a gesture of salutation and was the
first to speak.

"Let the Pawnees go upon the hills," he said, "and look from the morning
to the evening sun, from the country of snows to the land of many
flowers, and they will see that the earth is very large. Why cannot the
Red-men find room on it for all their villages?"

"Has the Teton ever known a warrior of the Loups come to his towns to
beg a place for his lodge?" returned the young brave, with a look in
which pride and contempt were not attempted to be concealed, "when
the Pawnees hunt, do they send runners to ask Mahtoree if there are no
Siouxes on the prairies?"

"When there is hunger in the lodge of a warrior, he looks for the
buffaloe, which is given him for food," the Teton continued, struggling
to keep down the ire excited by the other's scorn. "The Wahcondah
has made more of them than he has made Indians. He has not said, This
buffaloe shall be for a Pawnee, and that for a Dahcotah; this beaver for
Konza, and that for an Omawhaw. No; he said, There are enough. I love
my red children, and I have given them great riches. The swiftest horse
shall not go from the village of the Tetons to the village of the Loups
in many suns. It is far from the towns of the Pawnees to the river of
the Osages. There is room for all that I love. Why then should a Red-man
strike his brother?"

Hard-Heart dropped one end of his lance to the earth, and having also
cast his shield across his shoulder, he sat leaning lightly on the
weapon, as he answered with a smile of no doubtful expression--

"Are the Tetons weary of the hunts, and of the warpath? Do they wish
to cook the venison, and not to kill it. Do they intend to let the hair
cover