fer death. The
Dahcotahs had always been enemies, and it was the glory of the
Chippeways to take the lives of those they hated. His chief had taken
the prisoner to his teepee; she was safe; she was a member of his
family--who would harm her there? but now they were in council to decide
upon her fate. He was an old man, had seen many winters--he had often
travelled far and suffered much to take the life of an enemy; and here,
where there is one in their power, should they lose the opportunity of
revenge? She was but a woman, but the Dahcotah blood flowed in her
veins. She was not fit to live. The Eagle spoke next. He was glad that
the chief had taken the prisoner to his teepee--it had been always
customary occasionally to adopt a prisoner, and the chief did well to
keep up the customs of their tribe. The prisoner was young, she could be
taught to love the Chippeway nation; the white people did not murder
their prisoners; the Chippeways were the friends of the white people;
let them do as they did, be kind to the prisoner and spare her life. The
Eagle would marry the Dahcotah girl; he would teach her to speak the
language of her adopted tribe; she should make his mocassins, and her
children would be Chippeways. Let the chief tell the Eagle to take the
girl home to his teepee.

The Eagle's speech created an excitement. The Indians rose one after the
other, insisting upon the death of their prisoner. One or two seconded
the Eagle's motion to keep her among them, but the voices of the others
prevailed. The prisoner saw by the faces of the savages what their words
portended. When the Eagle rose to speak, she recognized the warrior
whose looks had frightened her; she knew he was pleading for her life
too; but the memory of her husband took away the fear of death. Death
with a thousand terrors, rather than live a wife, a slave to the
Chippeways! The angry Chippeways are silenced, for their chief addresses
them in a voice of thunder; every voice is hushed, every countenance is
respectfully turned towards the leader, whose words are to decide the
fate of the unhappy woman before them.

"Where is the warrior that will not listen to the words of his chief? my
voice is loud and you shall hear. I have taken a Dahcotah woman
prisoner; I have chosen to spare her life; she has lived in my teepee;
she is one of my family; you have assembled in council to-day to decide
her fate--I have decided it. When I took her to my teepee, she became