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If the law of the
Wahcondah was as much hearkened to, Pawnee, as the laws of the Long-
knives, your right to the prairies would be as good as that of the
greatest chief in the settlements to the house which covers his head."
"The skin of the traveller is white," said the young native, laying a
finger impressively on the hard and wrinkled hand of the trapper.
"Does his heart say one thing and his tongue another?"
"The Wahcondah of a white man has ears, and he shuts them to a lie.
Look at my head; it is like a frosted pine, and must soon be laid in
the ground. Why then should I wish to meet the Great Spirit, face to
face, while his countenance is dark upon me."
The Pawnee gracefully threw his shield over one shoulder, and placing
a hand on his chest, he bent his head, in deference to the grey locks
exhibited by the trapper; after which his eye became more steady, and
his countenance less fierce. Still he maintained every appearance of a
distrust and watchfulness that were rather tempered and subdued, than
forgotten.


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