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Laying his hand gently on the shoulder of the trapper, he led him
forward, until they both stood within fifty feet of the margin of the
thicket. Here he fastened his penetrating eyes on the other's honest
countenance, and continued the discourse--
"If my father has hid his young men in the bush, let him tell them to
come forth. You see that a Dahcotah is not afraid. Mahtoree is a great
chief! A warrior, whose head is white, and who is about to go to the
Land of Spirits, cannot have a tongue with two ends, like a serpent."
"Dahcotah, I have told no lie. Since the Great Spirit made me a man, I
have lived in the wilderness, or on these naked plains, without lodge
or family. I am a hunter and go on my path alone."
"My father has a good carabine. Let him point it in the bush and
fire."
The old man hesitated a moment, and then slowly prepared himself to
give this delicate assurance of the truth of what he said, without
which he plainly perceived the suspicions of his crafty companion
could not be lulled.


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