“Children, for you are my children!  Warriors, for you are all brave!  Chiefs, for you are all chiefs!  I have seen a vision.  It was a cloud, and the Manitou was upon it.  The cloud gave way, and behind I saw a vast nation, large cities, rich wigwams, strange boats, and great parties of warriors, whose trail was so long that I could not see the beginning nor the end.  It was in a country which I felt within me was extending from the north, where all is ice, down to the south, where all is fire!  Then a big voice was heard!  It was not a war-whoop, it was not the yell of the fiends, it was not the groan of the captive tied to the stake; it was a voice of glory, that shouted the name of the Shoshones—­for all were Shoshones.  There were no Pale-faces among them—­none!  Owato Wanisha was there, but he had a red skin, and his hair was black; so were his two fathers, but they were looking young; so was his aged and humble friend, but his limbs seemed to have recovered all the activity and vigour of youth; so were his two young friends, who have fought so bravely at the Post, when the cowardly Umbiquas entered our grounds.  This is all what I have heard, all what I have seen; and the whisper said to me, as the vision faded away, ’Lose no time, old chief, the day has come!  Say to thy warriors, Listen to the young Pale-face.  The Great Spirit of the Red-skin will pass into his breast, and lend him some words that the Shoshone will understand.’

“I am old and feeble; I am tired; arise, my grandson Owato Wanisha; speak to my warriors; tell them the wishes of the Great Spirit.  I have spoken.”

Thus called upon, I advanced to the place which the chief had left vacant, and spoke in my turn:—­

“Shoshones, fathers, brothers, warriors,—­I am a Pale-face, but you know all my heart is a Shoshone’s.  I am young, but no more a child.  It is but a short time since that I was a hunter; since that time the Manitou has made me a warrior, and led me among strange and distant tribes, where he taught me what I should do to render the Shoshones a great people.  Hear my words, for I have but one tongue; it is the tongue of my heart, and in my heart now dwells the Good Spirit.  Wonder not, if I assume the tone of command to give orders; the orders I will give are the Manitou’s.

“The twelve wisest heads of the Shoshones will go to the Arrapahoes.  With them they will take presents; they will take ten sons of chiefs, who have themselves led men on the war-path; they will take ten young girls, fair to look at, daughters of chiefs, whose voices are soft as the warbling of the birds in the fall.  At the great council of the Arrapahoes, the ten girls will be offered to ten great chiefs, and ten great chiefs will offer their own daughters to our ten young warriors; they will offer peace for ever; they will exchange all the scalps, and they will say that their fathers, the Shoshones, will once more open their arms to their brave children.