[Footnote 61:  He was named by the Indians from these two traits.]

This man, who had effectually succeeded to the power and influence of Miscomoneto (or the Red Devil), had been present at the treaty of Prairie du Chien, in 1825, and heard Gens.  Clark and Cass address the assembled Indians on that memorable occasion.  I had been in communication with him there.  He was perfectly familiar with the principles of pacification advanced and established on that occasion.  It was the more easy for me, therefore, to revive and enforce these principles.

WAR PARTY.—­Mozojeed’s son was himself one of Neenaba’s leaders in the war party, and was now absent with the volunteers which he had been able to raise in and about the Ottawa Lake village.  He was directly implicated in this movement against the Sioux.  Mozojeed’s village was, in fact, completely caught almost in the very act of sending out its quota of warriors.  They had, but a short time before, marched to join the main party at Rica Lake on the Red Cedar Fork of the Chippewa.  He felt the embarrassment of his position, but, true to the character of his race, exhibited not a sign of it in his words or countenance.  Stolid and unmoved, he pondered on his reply.  Divested of its unnecessary points and personal localisms, this speech was substantially as follows:—­

MOZOJEED’S SPEECH.—­“Nosa.  I have listened to your voice.  I have listened to it heretofore at Kipesaugee.  It is to me the voice of one that is strong and able to do.  Our Great Father speaks in it.  I hear but one thing.  It is to sit still.  It is not to cross the enemies’ lines.  It is to drop the war club.  It is to send word of all our disputes to him.

“Nosa.  This is wise.  This is good.  This is to stop blood.  But my young men are foolish.  They wish to go on the war path.  They wish to sing triumphs.  My counsels too are weak and as nothing.  It seems like trying to catch the winds and holding them in my fists, when I try to stay their war spirit.  How shall we dance?  How shall we sing?  These are their words.

“Nosa.  I do not lift the war-club.  My words are for peace.  I helped to draw the lines at Kipesaugee six years, ago.  I will keep them.  My advice to my people is to sit still.  You have shown, by bringing your flag here and hoisting it with your own hands in my village, that you are strong, and able, and willing.  You are the Indian’s friend.  You encourage us by this hard journey through our streams when the waters are low.  You have spied us out and see how we live, and how poor we are.”

Waubezhais, the son of Miscomoneto, and bearing his medal and authority, then spoke, responding frankly.  Odebossa, of the Upper Pukwaewa, spoke also favorably to my object, and thanking me for my visit to his village on the Namakagun, which he said, metaphorically, “had rekindled their fires, which were almost out.”