“And the pale-faces have few furs, but want some very much.”
“Waugh?” interrogatively, in a tone that implied “what then?”
“Well, but the pale-faces are not poor. They are rich, and have far too much of many things. They have far too much of those pleasant sweet things called sugar and molasses (the Indians involuntarily licked their lips). Too much cloth as bright as the sun at setting, and as blue as the sky at noon (the Indian eyes glistened). Too many guns, and too much powder and shot (the savage eyes glared). They have more beads, and blankets, and hatchets, and tobacco, than they know what to do with, so they have sent some of these things here to be given to you in exchange for furs, and food, and leather.”
The waughs! and hows! and hos! with which these remarks were followed up were so hearty, that Lumley thought it best to make a considerable pause at this point; then he resumed:—
“But, my brothers,”—he stopped for a considerable time, and looked so grave, that the hearts of the red-men sank, lest the glorious vision which had been suddenly revealed to them, should be as suddenly withdrawn in some way.
“But,” repeated Lumley, again, with a sort of awful emphasis, “the pale-faces detest war. They can fight—yes, and when they must fight, they will fight, but they do not love fighting, and if they are to stay here and open up trade with their guns, and their powder, and their blankets, and beads, and cloth (he wisely went all over it again for the sake of effect), there must be peace in the land. If there is war the pale-faces will take all their good things and go away—waugh!”
Finishing off in the true red-man style, Lumley sat down with decision, as though to say, “Now, the ball is at your own feet, kick it which way you please.”
Then the chief of the savages rose with dignity, but with a tinge of eagerness which he could not altogether conceal, and said:—
“Let not my white brother talk of going away. War shall cease at his bidding. Let him and his pale-faced warriors fell trees, and build wigwams, and hunt. We have plenty furs—the black fox, the red fox, the beaver, the marten, the minks, the bear, and many other animals are plentiful. We will exchange them for the goods of the white man. We will bury the hatchet, and smoke the calumet of peace, and the sound of the war-whoop shall no more be heard in the land—waugh!”
“Are my brothers ready to go to the camp of Big Otter, and make friends at once?” asked Lumley.