In the meanwhile War–Eagle was not idle, he visited the principal braves and warriors of his tribe, and found them unanimous in their resolution to break off all communication with the Osages, as soon as the latter should commit any overt act that should justify them in dissolving the league into which they had entered. He also resolved to watch closely the movements of Mahéga, of whose malice and influence he was fully aware; with this view he selected an intelligent Delaware boy, who knew the Osage language, and desired him to hover about the tent of the chief, and to bring a report of all that he should see or hear.
Towards the close of day, Mahéga sent runners about his village, after the usual Indian fashion, to summon the warriors and braves, most of whom were already prepared for the harangue which he was about to address to them; as soon as a sufficient number were collected, the wily chief came forth from his lodge, in the dress before described, and began by thanking them for so readily obeying his call.
“Why did Mahéga call together the warriors?” he continued; “Was it to tell them that a broad bison–trail is near the camp? The Medicine–men have not yet smoked the hunting–pipe to the Wahcondah.—Was it to tell them of the scalps taken by their fathers? The young men have not been called to the war–dance, their ears have not heard the Drum.[33]—Was it to tickle their ears with words like dried grass? Mahéga’s tongue is not spread with honey; he has called the Washashe to open their ears and eyes, to tell them that snakes have crept under their lodges, that the dogs in the village have become wolves!”
As he paused, the auditors looked each at the other; those who were not yet instructed in the speaker’s project being at a loss to catch the meaning of his words. Seeing that he had arrested their attention, he proceeded: “When Mahéga was young, when our fathers were warriors, who was so strong as the Washashe? Our hunters killed the deer and the bison from the Neska to the Topeo–kà.[34] The Konzas were our brothers, and we were afraid of none. But the Mahe–hunguh[35] came near, their tongues were smooth, their hands were full, and the Washashe listened to their talk:—is it not so?”
A deep murmur testified the attention of his auditors; but Mahéga knew that he was venturing on dangerous ground, and his present object was rather to incite them to vengeance against the band of Delawares and their guests, than against the white men in general. He resumed his harangue in a milder tone.
“The Long–knives smoked the pipe of peace with us, we gave them meat and skins, and they gave us paint and blankets, and fire–weapons with Medicine–powder and lead,—all that was well; but who came with the Long–knives,—the Lenapé!” He paused a moment, then looking fiercely round, he continued in a louder strain; “and who are these Lenapé? They were beggars when they came to us! Their skin is red, but their hearts are pale. Do we not know the tale of their fathers? Were they not slaves to the warriors of other nations?[36] Were they not women? Did they not leave the war–path to plant maize, and drink the fire–water of the Long–knives? They gave up their hunting–ground; they left the bones of their fathers; they crossed the Ne–o–hunge[37], and asked for the friendship of the Washashe. We lighted the pipe for them; we received them like brothers, and opened to them our hunting–ground; but their hearts are bad to us, Washashes. Mahéga tells you that the Lenapé are snakes!”
Another deep guttural sound, indicative of increased excitement, gratified the speaker’s ear, and he continued in a strain yet bolder: “Is Mahéga not a chief? Has he not struck the bodies of his enemies? Are there no scalps on his war–shirt? He was good to these Lenapé, he treated their warriors like brothers, he offered to make Olitipa his wife, they gave him bitter words and threw dirt upon his lodge. Shall the Washashe Chief be called a dog?” he exclaimed in a voice of thunder; “Shall he sit on the ground while a Lenapé spits in his face?”
A shout of anger and fury burst from the audience, as, waving his hand impatiently for silence, he went on: “The Lenapé knew that their hearts were false, their arms weak, their tongues forked, and they have brought in a band of Long–knives to defend them and to drive the Washashe from their hunting–grounds. Shall it be so? Shall we hold our backs to be scourged like children? Shall we whine like starved wolves? See how the pale faces can insult your chief!” As he spoke, Mahéga tore the turban with one hand from his head, and holding up his severed scalp–lock with the other, while every muscle of his countenance worked with fury, “See what the hand of a white–face boy has done. Mahéga slept under a tree, and he whom they call Netis, the stranger who has eaten our meat and smoked with our chiefs, stole upon Mahéga, struck him on the head, and cut off his hair.” As he uttered this audacious falsehood, which was, of course, believed by all who heard him, a terrific shout burst from the assembled Osages, and the wily chief, striking while the iron was hot, went on:—
“It is enough—the Washashes are not women; they will dig up the hatchet, and throw it into the council lodge of these white–faced and pale–hearted dogs. The great chief of the Dahcotahs has spoken to Mahéga; he seeks the friendship of the Washashes; the Dahcotahs are men; the bisons on their hunting–grounds are like the leaves in the forest. They wish to call the Washashes brothers, they wait for Mahéga’s words.—What shall he say?”
A tremendous shout was raised in reply, a shout that could be heard throughout the whole encampment. Mahéga saw that his triumph was complete, and folding his Medicine robe over his shoulder, he once more waved his hand for silence, and dismissed the assembly, saying, “Before the sun sinks again the chiefs and braves will meet in council. The Washashes will hear their words and they will be ready.” As he spoke he cast his dark eye expressively downwards to the tomahawk suspended at his belt, and slowly re–entered his lodge.