Indians

Good counsel! Ugh! Huh! Padahoon! Good counsel!

Chief

Speak, Simwa!

Simwa

(Rising.) Shall I call a thief my brother, and is a poacher my fellow that I should respect him? Sons of the Bear are the men of Castac? Aye, bastard sons, and the coyote is their mother. (Grunts and cries of approval.) The Castacs have filled up our springs and driven our deer. They have stalked our hunters in the hills. (Grunts.) Aye, but we have given the stalkers arrows of ours to keep. (Grunts of satisfaction.) Shall we go after our arrows, men of Sagharawite, or shall we wait until our “brothers” of Castac come and stroke us? I am not so old as Padahoon, nor so wise, but, by the Bear that fathered us, were I war leader for the space of one moon, there would be no more men of Castac to trouble our harvest.

Young Men

Simwa! Simwa! The Arrow-Maker!

Old Men

Padahoon! Padahoon!