hich is
the crowning glory of the red man's life. Their demeanor was stolid.
The wise Deerfoot plainly saw, however, that his doctrine found favor
with only a few. He made his appeal as clear and direct as he knew how,
but he did not need to be told that he was only partially successful.

The dramatic entrance and declaration by Chief Taggarak of the "pangs
of transformation" through which he had passed and his emergence into
the new light could not fail to be impressive and to add to the force
of what had just been said by the Shawanoe. None the less, it had also
an opposite effect in some cases. The warriors who had accepted the
leadership for years of one of the greatest chiefs that ever swayed the
destinies of the Blackfoot people now repudiated him. He upon whom they
had relied so long to lead them in battle and of whose unquestioned
bravery and prodigious prowess all knew, had become a woman! But _they_
would remain true warriors and maintain the prestige of their tribe as
among the most aggressive in the Northwest.

Still Taggarak swept a number with him. Probably when he was through
with his burning appeal a fifth of those present were under
"conviction," and could be counted upon in favorable circumstances to
become believers in the faith preached by the One who spake and taught
as never man spake and taught. It may be said that a half of that
number were resolute in this decision. Their sentiments were
crystallized. The seed had been sown on good ground and was bearing
fruit.

The young Shawanoe was tactful. For him to attempt to add anything to
the words of Taggarak would be to weaken them. They were the climax,
and silence was golden. Throughout the eloquent appeal of the chief,
Deerfoot stood with his hands idly folded behind him, his eyes fixed
upon the face of Taggarak, whose pose gave a good view of his features,
and listening in the very intentness of his soul. When the chief had
uttered his last word he gathered his blanket about his shoulders and
strode out of the Big Lodge, looking neither to the right nor left, and
again failing to notice his wife and little boy, who sat on the ground
and whom he brushed as he passed into the open air. He did not glance
behind, but continued his dignified, deliberate stride till he was
hidden from sight among the trees beyond the cleared space.

Before this, Deerfoot, without speaking a word, picked his way through
the throng, who surveyed him curiously but did