On their way back to the village the hunters were met by a little boy, who said that a council was to be held immediately, and their presence was requested.

The council was held in the tent of the principal chief, towards which all the other chiefs and many of the noted braves hurried.  Like all Indian councils, it was preceded by smoking the “medicine pipe,” and was followed by speeches from several of the best orators.  The substance of the discourse differed little from what has been already related in reference to the treaty between the Pale-faces, and upon the whole it was satisfactory.  But Joe Blunt could not fail to notice that Mahtawa maintained sullen silence during the whole course of the meeting.

He observed also that there was a considerable change in the tone of the meeting when he informed them that he was bound on a similar errand of peace to several of the other tribes, especially to one or two tribes which were the Pawnees’ bitter enemies at that time.  These grasping savages having quite made up their minds that they were to obtain the entire contents of the two bales of goods, were much mortified on hearing that part was to go to other Indian tribes.  Some of them even hinted that this would not be allowed, and Joe feared at one time that things were going to take an unfavourable turn.  The hair of his scalp, as he afterwards said, “began to lift a little and feel oneasy.”  But San-it-sa-rish stood honestly to his word, said that it would be well that the Pale-faces and the Pawnees should be brothers, and hoped that they would not forget the promise of annual presents from the hand of the great chief who lived in the big village near the rising sun.

Having settled this matter amicably, Joe distributed among the Indians the proportion of his goods designed for them; and then they all adjourned to another tent, where a great feast was prepared for them.

“Are ye hungry?” inquired Joe of Dick as they walked along.

“Ay, that am I. I feel as if I could eat a buffalo alive.  Why, it’s my ‘pinion we’ve tasted nothin’ since daybreak-this mornin’.”

“Well, I’ve often told ye that them Redskins think it a disgrace to give in eatin’ till all that’s set before them at a feast is bolted.  We’ll ha’ to stretch oursel’s, we will.”

“I’se got a plenty room,” remarked Henri.

“Ye have, but ye’ll wish ye had more in a little.”

“Bien, I not care!”

In quarter of an hour all the guests invited to this great “medicine feast” were assembled.  No women were admitted.  They never are at Indian feasts.