s the tents of Ishmael, which were
in plain sight, and then he paused, to await the effect of his words on
the mind of his ingenuous foe. Hard-Heart listened like one in whom a
train of novel ideas had been excited by the reasoning of the other. He
mused for a minute before he demanded--

"What do the wise chiefs of the Sioux say must be done?"

"They think that the moccasin of every Pale-face should be followed,
like the track of the bear. That the Long-knife, who comes upon the
prairie, should never go back. That the path shall be open to those who
come, and shut to those who go. Yonder are many. They have horses and
guns. They are rich, but we are poor. Will the Pawnees meet the Tetons
in council? and when the sun is gone behind the Rocky Mountains, they
will say, This is for a Loup and this for a Sioux."

"Teton--no! Hard-Heart has never struck the stranger. They come into
his lodge and eat, and they go out in safety. A mighty chief is their
friend! When my people call the young men to go on the war-path, the
moccasin of Hard-Heart is the last. But his village is no sooner hid by
the trees, than it is the first. No, Teton; his arm will never be lifted
against the stranger."

"Fool; die, with empty hands!" Mahtoree exclaimed, setting an arrow to
his bow, and sending it, with a sudden and deadly aim, full at the naked
bosom of his generous and confiding enemy.

The action of the treacherous Teton was too quick, and too well matured,
to admit of any of the ordinary means of defence on the part of the
Pawnee. His shield was hanging at his shoulder, and even the arrow had
been suffered to fall from its place, and lay in the hollow of the hand
which grasped his bow. But the quick eye of the brave had time to see
the movement, and his ready thoughts did not desert him. Pulling hard
and with a jerk upon the rein, his steed reared his forward legs into
the air, and, as the rider bent his body low, the horse served for
a shield against the danger. So true, however, was the aim, and so
powerful the force by which it was sent, that the arrow entered the neck
of the animal, and broke the skin on the opposite side.

Quicker than thought Hard-Heart sent back an answering arrow. The shield
of the Teton was transfixed, but his person was untouched. For a few
moments the twang of the bow and the glancing of arrows were incessant,
notwithstanding the combatants were compelled to give so large a portion
of their care to the means