82 ON THE FEONTIEB 



mised to come back with meat for feasting and with robes 

 for wear I have brought back lamentation for meat, 

 wounded brothers instead of robes. I went out a mounted 

 warrior, and have returned a fugitive on foot. The spilt 

 blood of my children cries aloud for vengeance. How 

 can I look their mothers in the face when they say to me 

 * Where are my sons ? Show us our sons or the scalps of 

 their slayers ! ' What must I say to them 1 That I, their 

 chief, I, the father of my tribe, have seen them killed 

 before my face, without striking a blow for their defence 

 and for the honour of my nation. But they shall be 

 avenged. Is the spirit of the great Leni-Lenape nation 

 dead the spirit of the father-nation of all peoples ? No t 

 Those cowardly dogs of Cheyennes, those sneaking Coyote's, 

 the Kiowas, shall find the Leni-Lenapes' arm reaches 

 far, his knife is keen, his vengeance certain. My allies 

 and brothers the Pottowattomies shall go with me. Dis- 

 grace shall be wiped out in blood. The face of the old men 

 in the Cheyenne and Kiowa camps shall wear the black 

 paint of mourning ; their young women be widows, their old 

 ones childless." 



In such strain the old chief had continued to speak for 

 an hour, delivering himself with the fluency and vehement 

 gestures of an accomplished Indian orator, and concluding 

 by a furious peroration, lashing himself and audience into 

 .a perfect frenzy of passion. Of course his address ended 

 with a yell for immediate war, and runners were forthwith 

 despatched through the nation, calling the 'braves to arms ; 

 and a deputation of " Sagamores " sent to the Potto- 

 wattomie chiefs asking for a contingent such compli- 



