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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 525 pages of information about Wacousta .

“Ugh!” ejaculated the Indian; “my father is a great chief, and his head is full of wisdom.  Had he been feeble, like the other chiefs of the Saganaw, the strong-hold of the Detroit must have fallen, and the red skins would have danced their war-dance round the scalps of his young men, even in the council-room where they came to talk of peace.”

“Does the great chief of the Ottawas see the big thunder of the Saganaw?” pursued the governor:  “if not, let him open his eyes and look.  The Saganaw has but to move his lips, and swifter than the lightning would the pale faces sweep away the warriors of the Ottawa, even where they now stand:  in less time than the Saganaw is now speaking, would they mow them down like the grass of the Prairie.”

“Ugh!” again exclaimed the chief, with mixed doggedness and fierceness:  “if what my father says is true, why does he not pour out his anger upon the red skins?”

“Let the great chief of the Ottawas listen,” replied the governor with dignity.  “When the great chiefs of all the nations that are in league with the Ottawas came last to the council, the Saganaw knew that they carried deceit in their hearts, and that they never meant to smoke the pipe of peace, or to bury the hatchet in the ground.  The Saganaw might have kept them prisoners, that their warriors might be without a head; but he had given his word to the great chief of the Ottawas, and the word of a Saganaw is never broken.  Even now, while both the chiefs and the warriors are in his power,—­he will not slay them, for he wishes to show the Ottawa the desire of the Saganaw is to be friendly with the red skins, and not to destroy them.  Wicked men from the Canadas have whispered lies in the ear of the Ottawa; but a great chief should judge for himself, and take council only from the wisdom of his own heart.  The Ottawa and his warriors may go,” he resumed, after a short pause; “the path by which they came is again open to them.  Let them depart in peace; the big thunder of the Saganaw shall not harm them.”

The countenance of the Indian, who had clearly seen the danger of his position, wore an expression of surprise which could not be dissembled:  low exclamations passed between him and his companions; and, then pointing to the tomahawk that lay half buried in the wood, he said, doubtingly,—­

“It was the pale face, the friend of the great chief of the Ottawas, who struck the hatchet at my father.  The Ottawa is not a fool to believe the Saganaw can sleep without revenge.”

“The great chief of the Ottawas shall know us better,” was the reply.  “The young warriors of the Saganaw might destroy their enemies where they now stand, but they seek not their blood.  When the Ottawa chief takes council from his own heart, and not from the lips of a cowardly dog of a pale face, who strikes his tomahawk and then flies, his wisdom will tell him to make peace with the Saganaw, whose warriors are without treachery, even as they are without fear.”

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