"Vengeance is allowable," said the Sun; "it is the undoubted right of the weak and the oppressed; and yet it ought to be proportioned to the injury received."
"Good! My father has spoken like a wise man; what think you of it, my brothers?"
"The Sun cannot lie; all that he says is right," the chiefs replied.
"Has my brother cause to complain of anyone?" the old man asked.
"Yes," Eagle Head replied; "I have been insulted by a white hunter; he has several times attacked my camp; he has killed some of my young men in ambush; I myself have been wounded, as you may see—the scar is not yet closed. This man, in short, is the most cruel enemy the Comanches have, for he pursues them like wild beasts, that he may enjoy their tortures, and hear their cries of agony."
At these words, pronounced with an imposing expression, a shudder of anger ran through the assembly. The astute chief, perceiving that his cause was gained in the minds of his auditors, continued, without showing the internal joy he experienced—
"I might have been able, if it had only concerned myself," he said, "to pardon these injuries, however serious they may be; but we have now to deal with a public enemy, with a man who has sworn the destruction of our nation. Hence, however painful be the necessity which constrains me, I ought not to hesitate to strike him in that which is dearest to him. His mother is in my hands. I have hesitated to sacrifice her; I have not allowed myself to be carried away by my hatred. I have wished to be just; and though it would have been so easy for me to kill this woman, I have preferred waiting till you, revered chiefs of our nation, should yourselves give me the order to do so. I have done still more: so repugnant was it to me to shed blood uselessly, and punish the innocent for the guilty, that I have granted this woman a respite of four days, in order to give her son the power of saving her, by presenting himself to suffer in her place. A paleface made prisoner by me is gone in search of him; but that man is a rabbit's heart—he has only the courage to assassinate unarmed enemies. He is not come! he will not come! This morning, at sunrise, expires the delay granted by me. Where is this man? He has not appeared! What say my brothers? Is my conduct just? Ought I to be blamed? Or shall this woman be tied to the stake, so that the palefaced robbers, terrified by her death, may acknowledge that the Comanches are formidable warriors, who never leave an insult unpunished? Have I spoken well, men of power?"
After having pronounced this long speech, Eagle Head resumed his seat, and crossing his arms on his breast, he awaited, with his head cast down, the decision of the chiefs.
A tolerably long silence followed this speech. At length the Sun arose.
"My brother has spoken well," he said. "His words are those of a man who does not allow himself to be governed by his passions; all he has said is just; the whites, our ferocious enemies, are eager for our destruction; however painful for us may be the punishment of this woman, it is necessary."