XXIII.
When ceased the crowd to stir, and died their hum,
Long on our Sire the old chief kept his gaze;
At length he said: “And has Awanux come?
He’s welcome to the red man’s council blaze.
What news brings he from the pale stranger’s home?
Or from the dog that near his wigwam strays?
Our young men see the pipe—what does it seek?
Our ears are open—let Awanux speak.”
XXIV.