“Brothers, we are like an old man, once tall and good to look upon, but now bent and withered. There is but one medicine that will make us young and strong and straight. It is a red medicine—the blood of the whites. The all-powerful Red Spirits of the East do not love those who give up their lands without a fight. I speak with the voice of the five lower towns. I speak for war, war, war!”
The speaker’s fervour exploded whatever restraint his hearers had been practising, and in a frenzy of martial emotion brawny arms waved axes and many voices thundered:
“War! War! War!”
Even Old Tassel’s eyes gleamed with savagery, suggesting new fires blooming through dead ashes. Then returned the old killing doubt: Could the white man be driven out? His gaze once more became dull and lifeless; and more for the sake of restoring a formal atmosphere to the council than because he wished to prolong the sitting he asked—
“Is there any one else who brings a talk to us before we follow the shamans?”
There was a bustling about at the entrance and a swirl of confusion as a man heavily blanketed unceremoniously pushed his way into the room and stood before the chief. Throwing back the blanket from his head and figure, he addressed Old Tassel, saying—
“I bring you a talk, Utsidsata.”
“Tsan-usdi!” croaked Old Tassel, his jaw dropping in amazement.
The assemblage, stunned to silence at beholding the man their redoubtable chief and the Creeks were seeking, glared incredulously. Then broke forth a storm of guttural execrations, and brown hands stretched forward to grasp the impudent intruder. Even in their rage, however, all remembered the kind of man Chucky Jack was. His daring to venture into the council while being hunted by the fighting-men of the two nations was a mighty check to homicidal impulses. And no hand touched him.
“Yes, it is Little John who brings the talk. Little John, who lives on the Nanatlugunyi—‘the spruce-tree place’—once an ancient home of the Cherokees. I am here with my talk, even as I promised you at Great Hiwassee that I would come. Did Little John ever give his word to Old Tassel, or to any of his people, and then take it back?”