clear, low voice, as one who having once determined upon the necessity
no hesitating fears should prevent, Great Oak addressed the now watchful
and silent multitude.

"It is true the feet of the young brave have been far away on the
war-path; his tomahawk and arrows have not been idle; he crept like a
serpent upon his victims; his war club was stained with their blood;
their scalps were many by his side; he came not back empty-handed; he
brought prisoners to his people and gifts to his Manitou."

The low murmur of applause now increased to a shrill howl, which the
echoing rocks sent flying on, mingling with the roar of the falling
waters. This approval being taken for their approbation, which promised
support to his opinion, Great Oak, thus confirmed in his remarks,
continued:

"War Eagle came not back to his people; his wigwam is lonely; did he fly
away like a frightened bird at the sight of his enemy?" An angry "hugh"
was uttered sympathetically. "Did he die with his body filled with the
arrows of his enemy?" After a short pause he answered himself:

"No, my children, the tomahawk was buried in the back of his head. Was
his foe behind him? Yes, my children, but not Grey Eagle and his brave
little band now standing in front of you. They were also in front of War
Eagle, but he saw in them no enemies; Grey Eagle saw no enemies then.
Look at the paint, of Grey Eagle and his braves; do you see the red and
black worn by a Chief on the war-path? Has the Manitou thrown a cloud
over the eyes of your Sachem? I see only the white paint of peace and
friendship. When were our fathers ever known to bind a friend?