“The taunt of Black Eagle falls like the wind upon the ears of Osse ’o. He hears it not.”
Standing as the Eagle did a step in the rear of his companion, it required but the raising of a hand to gratify his malice—to revenge the insults he had received and free himself forever from molestation. This was far too good an opportunity to be lost—too important a moment to be neglected. The brawny arm was raised—was descending—at the instant Osse ’o turned and saw the movement, though little dreaming of the purpose.
“What does my brother see that he points far away upon the prairie?”
“The buffalo and the deer are being driven by the Manitou of fire!”
“True; but far beyond the rolling smoke the train of the pale-face winds along, like a white serpent. The hoofs are many for they leave behind them a long trail of dust.”
“Like the buzzards, they cover the hunting-ground of the red-man; like the Manitou of starvation, they leave neither food nor grass behind.”
“Like them, the Dacotahs can raise the golden grain—the rustling maize, and—”
“And be slaves! The Great Manitou gave to the children of the pale-face the grain for his squaws and little ones; but to the children of the prairie he gave the hunting-grounds. When the Dacotahs bow their neck to the yoke, like the cattle of the pale-face, then will their glory depart, the totem be torn from their breasts—their bows broken, their arrows headless, and their glory depart forever!”
“When the red-man no more reddens his hand in blood—when the torture at the stake is forgotten, and no scalp-locks fringe his leggins, there will—”
“Osse ’o is always talking peace. He is a coward, and dare not go in the war!”