The chief’s face grew very stern. “The agent is a dog! He insults me. I will not see him! If he wishes to talk with me let him come here. I am waiting.”
My father made me a sign to go, and I went away. I could hear them conversing in low voices, but I could not understand what they said. At last my father called, and I went in again.
The chief looked less grim of lip and said to me, “Very well, Mato will go to-night.”
“Good,” I said. “At ten o’clock to-night Bull Head and I will come to take them across the river.”
My father and I went out and left him sitting alone.
When I returned at ten o’clock with Bull Head the chief’s lodge was filled with people. The women were weeping and the men were sullen. As I entered the tepee Mato was speaking. The chief sat smoking, with his eyes fixed on the floor. The priest was saying:
“You see how it is! The red man can keep nothing from the white man, who is jealous even of our religion. Washington would deprive us of our dreams. The agent is a wolf. Nevertheless, I will go, for my mission here is fulfilled. I have spoken the words of the Father; I have taught you the ceremonials. Henceforth you can test for yourself the truth of the word.” Then standing erect and in line the six messengers of the Messiah lifted the palms of their hands toward the west and prayed silently. A little later they began to sing this song:
“My children take this road,
My children go this way,
Says our Saviour.