Chiefs, for you are all chiefs! I have seen a vision. It was a cloud,
and the Manitou was upon it. The cloud gave way, and behind I saw a vast
nation, large cities, rich wigwams, strange boats, and great parties of
warriors, whose trail was so long that I could not see the beginning nor
the end. It was in a country which I felt within me was extending from
the north, where all is ice, down to the south, where all is fire! Then
a big voice was heard! It was not a war-whoop, it was not the yell of
the fiends, it was not the groan of the captive tied to the stake; it
was a voice of glory, that shouted the name of the Shoshones--for all
were Shoshones. There were no Pale-faces among them--none! Owato Wanisha
was there, but he had a red skin, and his hair was black; so were his
two fathers, but they were looking young; so was his aged and humble
friend, but his limbs seemed to have recovered all the activity and
vigour of youth; so were his two young friends, who have fought so
bravely at the Post, when the cowardly Umbiquas entered our grounds.
This is all what I have heard, all what I have seen; and the whisper
said to me, as the vision faded away, 'Lose no time, old chief, the day
has come! Say to thy warriors, Listen to the young Pale-face. The Great
Spirit of the Red-skin will pass into his breast, and lend him some
words that the Shoshone will understand.'

"I am old and feeble; I am tired; arise, my grandson Owato Wanisha;
speak to my warriors; tell them the wishes of the Great Spirit. I
have spoken."

Thus called upon, I advanced to the place which the chief had left
vacant, and spoke in my turn:--

"Shoshones, fathers, brothers, warriors,--I am a Pale-face, but you know
all my heart is a Shoshone's. I am young, but no more a child. It is but