The warrior hesitated, evidently at a loss to give a
reply that could reconcile the palpable contradiction of
his words.

"The rich furs of our forests have become many," he at
length observed, "since we first took up the hatchet
against the Saganaw; and every bullet we keep for our
enemies is a loss to our trade. We once exchanged furs
with the children of our father of the pale flag. They
gave us, in return, guns, blankets, powder, ball, and
all that the red man requires in the hunting season.
These are all expended; and my young men would deal with
the Saganaw as they did with the French."

"Good; the red skins would make peace; and although the
arm of the Saganaw is strong, he will not turn a deaf
ear to their desire."

"All the strong holds of the Saganaw, except two, have
fallen before the great chief of the Ottawas!" proudly
returned the Indian, with a look of mingled scorn and
defiance. "They, too, thought themselves beyond the
reach of our tomahawks; but they were deceived. In less
than a single moon nine of them have fallen, and the
tents of my young warriors are darkened with their scalps;
but this is past. If the red skin asks for peace, it is
because he is tired of seeing the blood of the Saganaw
on his tomahawk. Does my father hear?"

"We will listen to the great chief of the Ottawas, and