“What said the prophet?” demanded Gi-en-gwa-tah.
“He says the people have followed foolish counselors; Mahaska must set them right.”
“They will hear the voice of their queen,” returned the chief; “they know how the prophet loves her.”
“But the prophet does not love the French nation,” she exclaimed, quickly; “he says they are like jays, rich in bright colors, but with many tongues and full of lies.”
Gi-en-gwa-tah looked at her in trouble and astonishment, but did not reply.
“The Nations have been deceived; the French chiefs do not mean fairly by them; they will let the Iroquois fight their battles, and when they are weakened will take away their lands.”
“The French chiefs have kept their word with the Nations,” returned Gi-en-gwa-tah; “did Mahaska hear the prophet aright?”
A thrill of anger burned in her breast; the opposition which she had feared was rising up in the very outset.
“Let Gi-en-gwa-tah listen,” she said, calmly; “he only sees the faces of the French chiefs, the prophet looks into their hearts. The pale-faces will have long and bloody wars between themselves; the Indians have no cause to love either; if they are wise they will join the side which is to prove the most powerful and where they have not already been cheated by false promises.”
“The Six Nations must keep their pledge,” exclaimed the chief; “they have smoked the pipe of peace with the French leaders; they have taken his presents; they would be dogs if they deserted him.”