The hideously painted old chief rose.
"Year by year their ships come. They overrun our land, given by the Great Spirit. They enter at the front of the Long House to shove us out at the back; at the back, to push us out at the front. I counsel death to all!"
A great trembling seized upon Conrad. Then he saw that Quagnant still stood, motionless, waiting to continue his speech. Quagnant would not forget the icy bank and the deep pool!
"Brothers," said Quagnant, "let us be orderly in council, not like chattering birds. The words of Quagnant were not finished."
At once silence was restored.
"The various brothers have spoken," went on Quagnant. "Many have spoken without thought. They desire war, without reflecting that the pale-face has long guns also, without reflecting that ships will bring new pale-faces. There is a pale-face to whom I have put many questions; he tells me that they are across the sea like the leaves of the forest. To talk of making war upon all is child's talk.
"What we should do, brothers of the Long House, is to enter into understanding with the pale-face, so that we may say, 'To this river the land is yours, beyond is ours.' Then our mind will be clear to them, then messengers can go to and fro and—"
"They will not listen!" cried the old warrior. "They have laughed our messengers in the face."
Quagnant waited again until the old warrior had been frowned at by half the assemblage. Quagnant approached now the carefully planned climax of his address.