As it was, they departed in silence, and the last of their line had vanished under the horizon before the Indians could smother the indignation and resentment which the strangers had excited within their hearts.  Days, however, passed away, and with them the recollection of the event.  Afterwards, I chanced to meet, in the Arkansas, with the Colonel who commanded.  He was giving a very strange version of his expedition; and as I heard facts so distorted, I could not help repeating to myself the words of Auku-wonze-zee, “The Oposh-ton-ehoc is a double-tongued liar!”

CHAPTER XXIII.

One morning, Roche, Gabriel, and myself were summoned to the great council lodge; there we met with the four Comanches whom we had rescued some days before, and it would be difficult to translate from their glowing language their warm expressions of friendship and gratitude.  We learned from them, that before the return of the Cayugas from the prairie they had concealed themselves in some crevices of the earth until night, when they contrived to seize upon three of the horses, and effect their escape.  At the passage of the great chasm they had found the old red sash of Roche, which they produced, asking at the same time permission to keep it as a token from their Pale-face brothers.  We shook hands and exchanged pipes.  How noble and warm is an Indian in his feelings.

In the lodge we also perceived our friend of former days, “Opishka Koaki” (the White Raven); but as he was about to address the assembly, we restrained from renewing our acquaintance, and directed all our attention to what was transacting.  After the ordinary ceremonies, Opishka Koaki commenced:—­

“Warriors, I am glad you have so quickly understood my messages; but when does a Comanche turn his back on receiving the vermilion from his chief?  Never!  You know I called you for war, and you have come.  ’Tis well.  Yet, though I am a chief, I am a man.  I may mistake; I may now and then strike a wrong path.  I will do nothing, attempt nothing, without knowing the thoughts of my brave warriors.  Then hear me!

“There live under the sun a nation of Reds-kins, whose men are cowards, never striking an enemy but when his back is turned, or when they number a hundred to one.  This nation crawls in the prairies about the great chasms; they live upon carrion, and have no other horses but those they can steal from the deer-hearted Watchinangoes.  Do my warrior? know such a people?  Let them speak!  I hear!”

At that moment a hundred voices shouted the name of Cayugas.