ture. They would bring the tops of two tall pines together,
trees a hundred and fifty feet high, and put their prisoner on the
topmost boughs, for the crows and ravens to pick his eyes out. But you
are miserable Injins! You know nothing. If you know'd any better,
would you act such poor torment ag'in' a great brave? I spit upon ye,
and call you squaws. The pale-faces have made women of ye. They have
taken out your hearts, and put pieces of dog's flesh in their places."

Here the corporal, who delivered himself with an animation suited to
his language, was obliged to pause, literally for want of breath.
Singular as it may seem, this tirade excited great admiration among the
savages. It is true, that very few understood what was said; perhaps
no one understood _all_, but the manner was thought to be admirable.
When some of the language was interpreted, a deep but smothered
resentment was felt; more especially at the taunts touching the manner
in which the whites had overcome the red men. Truth is hard to be
borne, and the individual, or people, who will treat a thousand
injurious lies with contempt, feel all their ire aroused at one
reproach that has its foundation in fact. Nevertheless, the anger that
the corporal's words did, in truth, awaken, was successfully repressed,
and he had the disappointment of seeing that his life was spared for
the torture.

"Brother," said Bough of the Oak, again placing himself before the
captive, "you have a stout heart. It is made of stone, and not of
flesh. If our hearts be of dog's meat, yours is of stone. What you
say is true. The pale-faces _did_ come at first in two or three
canoes, and there were but few of them. We are ashamed, for it is
true. A few pale-faces drove toward the setting sun many Injins. But
we cannot be driven any further. We mean to stop here, and begin to
take all the scalps we can. A great chief, who belongs to no one
tribe, but belongs to all tribes, who speaks all tongues, has been sent
by the Great Spirit to arouse us. He has done it. You know him. He
came from the head of the lake with you, and kept his eye on your
scalp. He has meant to take it from the first. He waited only for an
opportunity. That opportunity has come, and we now mean to do as he
has told us we ought to do. This is right. Squaws are in a hurry;
warriors know how to wait. We would kill you at once, and hang your
scalp on our pole, but it would not be right. We w