Thus called upon, the horse–dealer stepped forward, saying: “Besha is neither wise in council, nor a chief among warriors; he has travelled far among the eastern tribes, and he knows their tongues; he stands here to give out of his mouth what goes in at his ear. Let the Upsaroka warriors listen; they are not fools, they will soon know if lies are told to them. Let them look at this youth; his blanket is that of Besha’s slave; he is not what he seems; he is a son of the Lenapé, a friend of the Whites; yet he is come alone into the camp to show to the Upsaroka that a snake is crawling among their lodges.”
A murmur ran through the assembly as Besha pronounced these words, and pointed to Wingenund, who, throwing the blanket into the hollow of his left arm, advanced to the front, and with a slight inclination to the old chief, awaited his permission to proceed.
The youth, the graceful form, the open countenance, and the dignified bearing of Wingenund, as he stood forward in the assembled circle, prepossessed the Crows strongly in his favour, and they awaited with excited curiosity the intelligence that he had to communicate; but their chief did not appear disposed to gratify their impatience, for after whispering a few words to a messenger who stood beside him, he relapsed into silence, scanning with a fixed gaze the countenance of the young Delaware. The latter bore the scrutiny with modest, yet undisturbed composure, and not a voice was raised in the council until the return of the messenger, conducting a Crow doctor or conjuror, somewhat advanced in years, who took his station by the chief, and gave a silent assent to the whispered orders that he received.
It may well be imagined with what mingled feelings of surprise and indignation the haughty Osage beheld the young Delaware thus standing forward in the midst of the council–circle; that his presence boded no good to himself he well knew; but how and wherefore he came, and why he, belonging as he did to a hostile band, was thus permitted to appear before the assembly of Crow warriors, he was quite at a loss to understand. His suspense, however, was not destined to be of long duration, for as soon as Besha, in obedience to a signal from the chief, had desired Wingenund to speak what he had to say, the youth came another step forward, and said in a clear voice—
“There is a snake among the lodges of the Upsaroka; a hidden snake, that will bite before its rattle is heard.”
The Crows looked from one to the other as Besha translated this sentence, and the old conjuror gave a slight nod to the chief, indicating that the youth’s meaning was rightly given. It may be as well to inform the reader that the said conjuror had in early life been taken prisoner by the Pawnees, with a party of whom he had been conveyed to a great council held with the Indian agents at St. Charles’s, in Missouri, respecting the cession and appropriation of territory. Several of the western Delawares had been present at this meeting, which was protracted for many weeks, and the Crow prisoner had picked up a smattering of their tongue, which, however slight it might be, had occasioned him to be sent for on this occasion to check any propensity for untruth that might be entertained by the horse–dealer. Whether the latter was influenced by these, or by other motives, he rendered faithfully the conversation that ensued, and therefore it is not necessary to notice further the part played by the interpreter.
“Who is it that speaks?” demanded the old chief, with dignity: “the Crows open not their ears to the idle words of strangers.”
“Then let them shut their ears,” replied the youth, boldly. “Before another sun has set they will wish they had listened to the words of Wingenund!”
“Who is Wingenund? Is he not an enemy? have not his people shed Upsaroka blood? why, then, should they believe his words?”
“Wingenund is the son of a Lenapé chief. For a thousand summers his fathers have hunted over forest and plain beyond the Great River. Wingenund has heard of their deeds, and he will not stain his lips with a lie. The Lenapé have taken Crow scalps in defence of their own, Wingenund will not deny it; but he came here to serve his white friends, not to hurt the Upsaroka.”