The visitors filled and lighted their pipes, and passed their plugs of tobacco to the others. Then Ralph began to speak in Cree.
“We come far to speak with Man-of-the-Snow-Hill,” he began.
The watery-eyed chief shook his head, grunting. The squaws laughed, and the med’cine-men closed their eyes in sign of not understanding the tongue in which he spoke. Then a young chief harangued his comrades. He could understand the tongue and would interpret. The old chief nodded approval and continued to gaze greedily at the presents.
Now the conversation proceeded quite smoothly.
“We wish to speak with the great Man-of-the-Snow-Hill in private,” Ralph said. “We have much to say, and many presents.”
The chief blinked with satisfaction, and grunted appreciation. His lined face lit up. He waved one shaking arm and his followers reluctantly departed. All except the interpreter and the chief squaw.
Then Ralph went on. Nick had care of the presents, and on him the cunning old chief kept his eyes. He opened a large bag of beads and emptied some on a spread of cheap print. The squaw’s eyes smiled greedily.
“We wish the great chief well,” said Ralph, using all the flowery embellishments of the Cree tongue, “and we would live in peace. We have tobacco, beads, skins, prints, and blankets. And we would lay them all at the feet of the great man, the mighty hunter, if he would help us to find that which we seek.”
Ralph signed to his brother and Nick laid out an array of presents and passed them with due solemnity to the old man.
“Ow-ow!” grunted Man-of-the-Snow-Hill, as he waved the things away to his squaw. He was not satisfied, and his eyes watered as though he were weeping.