Osage. “The warriors of the Washashee talk with their hands, when their hands are not tied; they are not famous for their tongues.”
W. “Yet with their tongues they spoke smooth words to the Lenapé: they called them brother; they ate, hunted, fought, and smoked with them, and then joined the Dahcotahs, to kill the women and children of their friends. If the tongues of the Washashee are not famous, they are forked.”
O. “Mahéga was the war–chief of his tribe; when he went upon the war–path, the Washashee followed. He is gone to the hunting–fields of the braves, and they are not afraid to follow him. When War–Eagle took his rifle and his club, and went out upon the war–path by night, his warriors followed in silence. Who among them said, ‘Where does War–Eagle go?’”
W. “War–Eagle never raised his rifle at a friend; he never called out his braves to burn the wigwam of his brother; there was never a scalp of woman or child taken by his hand. When he struck it was at an open foe, or to save or avenge a friend.” He added in a subdued tone, “And yet there is too much blood on the hands of War–Eagle; the Great Spirit is angry with him for it.”
The Osage made no reply. The missionary interchanged a whispered word with Prairie–bird, and the chief continued, addressing chiefly the Delawares in their own language; “My brothers, we often pray to the Great Spirit to forgive what we have done that is wrong. The Black Father and Olitipa have told War–Eagle the answer that he gives; it is written in the great book in which there are no lies: ‘The Great Spirit will forgive us, if we forgive our brother; if we refuse to forgive our brother, the Great Spirit will refuse to forgive us.’ War–Eagle has done many things wrong; he hopes the Great Spirit will forgive him. Shall he now kill the Washashee?” He then turned to the prisoners, and said, “Let their bands be cut, and let them return to their own people to tell them, that the Lenapé hurt not women nor children, nor men whose hands are tied. Olitipa has read from the book that such is the will of the Great Spirit, whom the white men call by the name of God, and the heart of War–Eagle tells him that it is true.”
It is doubtful whether this speech caused greater surprise among his own followers, or among the Osages, whom it restored to life and liberty. Both, however, heard it with that absence of outward emotion which characterises the red–skin race in North America; so that Ethelston, who did not understand a word of the Delaware tongue, was perfectly unconscious of anything having been said that might materially affect the fortunes of the prisoners; and he was in momentary expectation of seeing them led away to suffer, according to the laws of Indian retribution, the deserved penalty of their cruelty and treachery.
While Pierre was informing him of what had occurred, the Osage spokesman resolved apparently to try the patience of the expiring chief to the uttermost, and said to him, with a sneer, “War–Eagle is very good to the Washashee; he knows that they have neither food nor arms; there is not one knife among the four: they are among the mountains, a whole moon’s journey from their village, surrounded by war–parties of the Upsaroka and Black–feet, and on their return path must pass the hunting–grounds of the Shiennes, the Kiowás, the Pânis, and the Mahas. War–Eagle would rather that they were starved, and their bones gnawed by the wolves, than see them die like warriors, and laugh at the Lenapé in their death.”
Paul Müller looked anxiously at the chief to mark what effect would be produced by this ungrateful and intemperate speech; and his apprehensions were much relieved when he heard War–Eagle reply, in a calm and unmoved tone: “There is no wonder that the Washashee think others are like themselves, false–hearted and double–tongued. Had the Lenapé intended that the Washashee should be killed, they would have spared the Upsaroka and the wolves the task. War–Eagle intends that they should live to be ashamed of their bad deeds. Wingenund will see that they enter safely on the home–path. Now let them go; their words are bitter, and they can neither speak nor believe the truth. War–Eagle has no more time to waste with them.”
As he uttered this reproof, in a contemptuous rather an angry tone, the chief fell back much exhausted upon his cushion, and the leading Osage was about to make some violent reply, when Pierre, taking him by the arm, hurried him and his companions to the outer edge of the circle, saying to him, as he went, “Peace, fool! Is thy thick head so fond of tasting a Lenapé tomahawk, that thou canst not hold thy tongue, when thy saucy wagging of it might cost thy life? Peace, I say, or in spite of the chief’s pardon, I will have thee and thy comrades tied down again like fresh–caught colts.”
Having spoken words to this effect to the reckless and grumbling Osage, Pierre re–entered the circle gathered round the chief, and found, on his return, that a general silence prevailed. Wingenund was sitting upon the ground, close to his brother, listening with the deepest attention to the injunctions and counsel which the latter was delivering, in a voice that became every moment more feeble and indistinct. None present could overhear what passed; but at the conclusion the two brothers sat for a few seconds in silence, each pressing his clenched hand upon the heart of the other, after which Wingenund retired a few paces back, while the chief, collecting his remaining strength, said aloud to his devoted followers: “War–Eagle is going to the land where his fathers dwell; he is sorry to leave his brothers, but it is the will of the Great Spirit, who is the Master of Life;[91] and when he speaks the Lenapé are silent, and obey. When War–Eagle is gone, it is his wish that Wingenund should be chief of the band: the blood of Tamenund warms his heart; and though he has not seen many summers, his eyes have not been shut, nor have his ears been closed against the counsel of wise men. My brothers, you have the care of a great treasure, the care of Olitipa, the beloved daughter of Tamenund, the sister who has cleared away the cloud that hid the sun from War–Eagle, and the thorns that beset his path in the dark valley. My brothers, let not one of you leave her until she is safe at the white man’s boundary; and if you love War–Eagle, you will also love and obey Wingenund, and Netis his adopted brother.”