"You will cause me pleasure, for I always like to gain information, and this may be useful to me at some time," the Canadian said with a grin.
"When a Paleface wishes to buy the hunting-ground of a tribe he goes to the principal Sachems of the nation, and after smoking the calumet of peace in council, he explains his meaning; the conditions are discussed; if the two contracting parties agree, a plan of the territory is drawn up by the principal sorcerer, the Paleface gives his goods, all the Chiefs place their sign manual at the foot of the plan, the trees are blazed with a tomahawk, the borders marked, and the purchaser takes immediate possession."
"Hum," Tranquil remarked, "that seems simple enough."
"In what council has the grey-head Chief smoked the calumet? Where are the sachems who have treated with him? Let him show me the trees that were marked."
"In truth, I fancy he would find that difficult."
"The Grey-head," the Chief continued, "knew that Monkey-face was cheating him; but the territory suited him, and he calculated on the strength of his arms to hold his own."
"That is probable."
"Conquered by evidence, and recognizing too late that he acted inconsiderately, he fancied he could recover all difficulties by offering us a few more bales of merchandize. Whenever did the Palefaces have a straight and honest tongue?"
"Thank you," the hunter said, laughingly.
"I do not speak of my brother's nation; I never had to complain of them, and I only refer to the Long knives of the West. Does my brother still think that I was wrong in throwing down the bloody arrows?"