At the sound of the horses the warriors had awakened. The outermost went to take the horses from the guests who alighted. These then were ushered up to the trio of commanders, who eyed them coldly. The other three were in fighting dress, but were not painted in accordance.
"My brothers are welcome," remarked Red Knife. "Ahnemekee being a great chief in his nation, he shall take his place beside his brother the Piegan, and smoke the peace pipe."
Ahnemekee, for it was the Crow chief, bowed pleasedly at the compliment, squatted down, and took the pipe. For a while the calumet went the round. Etiquette directs that the guests must speak first and may not be questioned. The pipe ended with Ahnemekee, who knocked out the ashes on his nail and offered them ceremoniously to the earth whence the tobacco had come, and thereupon, bending toward Red Knife with a winning smile, wished him plenty of buffalo and success in killing bear.
With the same bland smile, Red Knife returned the compliment.
"Unluckily," added he, "game is scarce. The wilderness is getting swamped with 'the hatted men'—(Indians are self-distinguished as hatless)—the feather-heads get only their leavings."
"Yes," returned the Crow, emboldened at no allusion being made to the old-time enmity between the Crows and the Blackfeet nation, "not only do the Long Knives capture the game as if it grew for them alone, but the axe and the plough lessen the domains of our fathers. Soon will we be crowded against the rocks, and there shall we die in snow and ice for want of food. My heart aches to think of the miseries awaiting the Unishiniba—all Indians. As I submit, it seems to me my blood is weakened with water, that the marrow in my bones is swamp mud, that my eyes are dimmed as one looking through the glass peepholes in the stone cabins. I have gone into seclusion for eight days and there asked, asked, asked if the just Great Spirit has really allowed the palefaces to do what they like with what we deemed our very own."
"My brother is a wise warrior," said the Piegan, sorrowfully. "The speech from his straight tongue chimes in with the Voice that speaks to me in my meditation. Speak on, speak on, Ahnemekee—I hear not a Crow Indian, but one of the whole red race—it is a friendly ear that drinks in his words."
"Right! The chain of brotherhood still endures, and though time has cankered it, it is strong under the rust. When Yoheewah brought our fathers from the Eye of the sky, O, glorious Sun, that warms the red man and conserves his meat, then the Wacondah showed them the woods, lakes, streams, and prairies, and bade him 'Take, all is thine!' The warrior bowed to the Guide, and thanked Him. There were no white men then, they had not come over the Alleghanies to be our tormentors, our robbers, our slayers, with the fire in great guns. But the red men fell out with one another, and would not see there was room for all. The Great Spirit brought the palefaces hither to perplex them and punish them. Soon did they scatter them, setting the Blackfeet Sioux against the Mountain Blackfeet, the Crows against the Bloods. But still, the redskins have learnt the new kind of warfare. We have horses and weapons. All the route of flight of the Sioux through the Yellowstone was strewn with the cachés of the arms they could not carry, and Crows and Blackfeet have dug them up, and have been buying powder and ball with their furs."
"The hour of revenge has come, brother—I speak it! Why should we not all profit by it? And if we must wrangle and clapperclaw amongst ourselves, let it be over the spoil of the dead whites," said he, subtly. "Hunting! For a week you have laid here empty-handed, whilst I have pillaged a train and armed my men finely. It is true we have come off second best in an encounter with another band of intruders, but it was the snowstorm that drove us off. Let us unite and overwhelm these Northerners, and then crush out the prairie pirates from the gold mines. What does my brother think of my words? There are no more to come."
"My brother speaks to the point, his words fall on mine ear as sweetly as the eagle's scream, swooping upon its prey in its mate's hearing. The Piegan braves are not here to run buffalo and follow deer. They are gathered to drive the gold seekers into graves. But what can so small a force do, however bold and cunning? It is a chief who asks this. Let his brother answer."