They looked at each other with a little doubt. The gifts and promises of the British had made them eager for the new alliance; but the burning eloquence of Gi-en-gwa-tah had made them somewhat ashamed of the treachery they meditated, and they hesitated to take the first decisive step which should complete their double-dealing. Mahaska saw what was in their minds, and hastened to remove the fear that they were going to be called upon to commence open hostility against their former allies. She had planned leading them to open war by degrees, entangling them so completely that a positive outbreak would be unavoidable.
“The English chief does not ask them to make ready for the war-path,” she said. “This is what he wishes, and the prophet has bidden Mahaska urge its fulfillment upon the chiefs.”
They listened eagerly, glad to depend upon the will of the spirits, as pronounced by the queen’s lips, and so cast from their minds any personal blame in the matter.
“Let the chiefs send out a band of warriors to watch the movements of the French—nothing more is desired. Mahaska herself will go with them. If, while they are gone, the French are guilty of any bad faith toward the Senecas, the chiefs will not have been the first to break the treaty.”
They looked from one to another, well content to have the matter thus arranged, and Upepah said:
“The queen speaks wisely—let it be as she wishes.”
“No time must be lost,” she urged; “before the sun is in the heavens to-morrow, Mahaska and her warriors must be on their way.”
“Let the queen decide,” they answered.
“Her own band will be enough,” she continued, certain that not a man among them would oppose her will in any way, but rather would second her efforts to bring on an outbreak between the French and the tribe.
She conversed with them for some time; all the plans were completed, and her guard warned to be in readiness at the appointed hour.