He mused for a minute before he demanded--
"What do the wise chiefs of the Sioux say must be done?"
"They think that the moccasin of every Pale-face should be followed,
like the track of the bear. That the Long-knife, who comes upon the
prairie, should never go back. That the path shall be open to those
who come, and shut to those who go. Yonder are many. They have horses
and guns. They are rich, but we are poor. Will the Pawnees meet the
Tetons in council? and when the sun is gone behind the Rocky
Mountains, they will say, This is for a Loup and this for a Sioux."
"Teton--no! Hard-Heart has never struck the stranger. They come into
his lodge and eat, and they go out in safety. A mighty chief is their
friend! When my people call the young men to go on the war-path, the
moccasin of Hard-Heart is the last. But his village is no sooner hid
by the trees, than it is the first. No, Teton; his arm will never be
lifted against the stranger."
"Fool; die, with empty hands!" Mahtoree exclaimed, setting an arrow to
his bow, and sending it, with a sudden and deadly aim, full at the
naked bosom of his generous and confiding enemy.
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