"My father has understood my sign," said the haughty
chief. "The warriors of a dozen tribes are far behind
the path the Ottawa has just travelled; but when the red
skin comes unarmed, the hand of the Saganaw is tied behind
his back."

"The strong hold of the Saganaw is his safeguard," replied
the governor, adopting the language of the Indian. "When
the enemies of his great father come in strength, he
knows how to disperse them; but when a warrior throws
himself unarmed into his power, he respects his confidence,
and his arms hang rusting at his side."

"The talk of my father is big," replied the warrior, with
a scornful expression that seemed to doubt the fact of
so much indifference as to himself; "but when it is a
great chief who directs the nations, and that chief his
sworn enemy, the temptation to the Saganaw may be strong."

"The Saganaw is without fear," emphatically rejoined the
governor; "he is strong in his own honour; and he would
rather die under the tomahawk of the red skin, than
procure a peace by an act of treachery."

The Indian paused; cold, calm looks of intelligence passed
between him and his followers, and a few indistinct and
guttural sentences were exchanged among themselves.

"But our father asks not why our mocassins have brushed
the dew from off the common," resumed the chief; "and