When all the chiefs had smoked, one after the other, the pipe bearer emptied the ashes of the pipe into the fire, saying—
"Chiefs of the great Comanche nation, may Natosh (God) give you wisdom, so that whatever be your determination, it may be conformable to justice."
Then, after bowing respectfully, he retired.
A moment of silence followed, in which everyone seemed meditating seriously upon the words that had just been pronounced.
At length the most aged of the chiefs arose.
He was a venerable old man, whose body was furrowed with the scars of innumerable wounds, and who enjoyed among his people a great reputation for wisdom. He was named Eshis (the Sun).
"My son Eagle Head has," he said, "an important communication to make to the council of the chiefs; let him speak, our ears are open. Eagle Head is a warrior as wise as he is valiant; his words will be listened to by us with respect."
"Thanks!" the warrior replied; "my father is wisdom itself. Natosh conceals nothing from him."
The chiefs bowed, and Eagle Head continued.
"The palefaces, our eternal persecutors, pursue and harass us without intermission, forcing us to abandon to them, one by one, our best hunting grounds, and to seek refuge in the depths of the forest like timid deer; many of them even dare to come into the prairies which serve us as places of refuge, to trap beavers and hunt elks and buffaloes which are our property. These faithless men, the outcasts of their people, rob us and assassinate us when they can do it with impunity. Is it just that we should suffer their rapine without complaining? Shall we allow ourselves to be slaughtered like timid ashahas without seeking to avenge ourselves? Does not the law of the prairies say, 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?' Let my father reply; let my brothers say if that is just?"