hear what he has to say," returned the governor, who, as
well as the officers at his side, could with difficulty
conceal their disgust and sorrow at the dreadful
intelligence thus imparted of the fates of their companions.
"But peace," he pursued with dignity, "can only be made
in the council room, and under the sacred pledge of the
calumet. The great chief has a wampum belt on his shoulder,
and a calumet in his hand. His aged warriors, too, are
at his side. What says the Ottawa? Will he enter? If so,
the gate of the Saganaw shall be open to him."

The warrior started; and for a moment the confidence that
had hitherto distinguished him seemed to give place to
an apprehension of meditated treachery. He, however,
speedily recovered himself, and observed emphatically,
"It is the great head of all the nations whom my father
invites to the council seat. Were he to remain in the
hands of the Saganaw, his young men would lose their
strength. They would bury the hatchet for ever in despair,
and hide their faces in the laps of their women."

"Does the Ottawa chief see the pale flag on the strong
hold of his enemies. While that continues to fly, he is
safe as if he were under the cover of his own wigwam. If
the Saganaw could use guile like the fox" (and this was
said with marked emphasis), "what should prevent him from
cutting off the Ottawa and his chiefs, even where they
now stand?"

A half smile of derision passed over the dark cheek of