“Honesty lies deeper than the skin.”
“It is so.
Now let my father hear me.
Mahtoree has but one tongue, the grey-head has many.
They may be all straight, and none of them forked.
A Sioux is no more than a Sioux, but a Pale-face is every thing!
He can talk to the Pawnee, and the Konza, and the Omawhaw, and he can talk to his own people.”
“Ay, there are linguists in the settlements that can do still more.
But what profits it all?
The Master of Life has an ear for every language!”
“The grey-head has done wrong.
He has said one thing when he meant another.
He has looked before him with his eyes, and behind him with his mind.
He has ridden the horse of a Sioux too hard; he has been the friend of a Pawnee, and the enemy of my people.”
“Teton, I am your prisoner.
Though my words are white, they will not complain.
Act your will.”
“No.
Mahtoree will not make a white hair red.
My father is free.
The prairie is open on every side of him.
But before the grey-head turns his back on the Siouxes, let him look well at them, that he may tell his own chief, how great is a Dahcotah!”
“I am not in a hurry to go on my path.
You see a man with a white head, and no woman, Teton; therefore shall I not run myself out of breath, to tell the nations of the prairies what the Siouxes are doing.”
“It is good.
My father has smoked with the chiefs at many councils,” returned Mahtoree, who now thought himself sufficiently sure of the other’s favour to go more directly to his object. “Mahtoree will speak with the tongue of his very dear friend and father.
A young Pale-face will listen when an old man of that nation opens his mouth.
Go; my father will make what a poor Indian says fit for a white ear.”
“Speak aloud!” said the trapper, who readily understood the metaphorical manner, in which the Teton expressed a desire that he should become an interpreter of his words into the English language; “speak, my young men listen.
Now, captain, and you too, friend bee-hunter, prepare yourselves to meet the deviltries of this savage, with the stout hearts of white warriors.
If you find yourselves giving way under his threats, just turn your eyes on that noble-looking Pawnee, whose time is measured with a hand as niggardly, as that with which a trader in the towns gives forth the fruits of the Lord, inch by inch, in order to satisfy his covetousness.
A single look at the boy will set you both up in resolution.”
“My brother has turned his eyes on the wrong path,” interrupted Mahtoree, with a complacency that betrayed how unwilling he was to offend his intended interpreter.
“The Dahcotah will speak to my young men?”
“After he has sung in the ear of the flower of the Pale-faces.”
“The Lord forgive the desperate villain!” exclaimed the old man in English. “There are none so tender, or so young, or so innocent, as to escape his ravenous wishes.
But hard words and cold looks will profit nothing; therefore it will be wise to speak him fair. Let Mahtoree open his mouth.”
“Would my father cry out, that the women and children should hear the wisdom of chiefs!
We will go into the lodge and whisper.”
As the Teton ended, he pointed significantly towards a tent, vividly emblazoned with the history of one of his own boldest and most commended exploits, and which stood a little apart from the rest, as if to denote it was the residence of some privileged individual of the band.
The shield and quiver at its entrance were richer than common, and the high distinction of a fusee, attested the importance of its proprietor.
In every other particular it was rather distinguished by signs of poverty than of wealth.
The domestic utensils were fewer in number and simpler in their forms, than those to be seen about the openings of the meanest lodges, nor was there a single one of those high-prized articles of civilised life, which were occasionally bought of the traders, in bargains that bore so hard on the ignorant natives.
All these had been bestowed, as they had been acquired, by the generous chief, on his subordinates, to purchase an influence that might render him the master of their lives and persons; a species of wealth that was certainly more noble in itself, and far dearer to his ambition.
The old man well knew this to be the lodge of Mahtoree, and, in obedience to the sign of the chief, he held his way towards it with slow and reluctant steps.
But there were others present, who were equally interested in the approaching conference, whose apprehensions were not to be so easily suppressed.
The watchful eye and jealous ears of Middleton had taught him enough to fill his soul with horrible forebodings.
With an incredible effort he succeeded in gaining his feet, and called aloud to the retiring trapper—
“I conjure you, old man, if the love you bore my parents was more than words, or if the love you bear your God is that of a Christian man, utter not a syllable that may wound the ear of that innocent—”
Exhausted in spirit and fettered in limbs, he then fell, like an inanimate log, to the earth, where he lay like one dead.