“Nanawa speaks well, for he loves his children:  but the spirit that whispers to him is a pale-face spirit, that cannot see under the skin of a red warrior; it is too tough:  nor in his blood; it is too dark.

“Yet tobacco is good, and corn too.  The hunters of the Flat Heads and Pierced Noses would come in winter to beg for it; their furs would make warm the lodges of the Shoshones.  And my people would become rich and powerful; they would be masters of all the country, from the salt waters to the big mountains; the deer would come and lick their hands, and the wild horses would graze around their wigwams.  ’Tis so that the pale faces grow rich and strong; they plant corn, tobacco, and sweet melons; they have trees that bear figs and peaches; they feed swine and goats, and tame buffaloes.  They are a great people.

“A red-skin warrior is nothing but a warrior; he is strong, but he is poor; he is not a wood-chunk, nor a badger, nor a prairie dog; he cannot dig the ground; he is a warrior, and nothing more.  I have spoken.”

Of course the tenor of this speech was too much in harmony with Indian ideas not to be received with admiration.  The old man took his seat, while another rose to speak in his turn.

“The great chief hath spoken; his hair is white like the down of the swan; his winters have been many; he is wise; why should I speak after him, his words were true?  The Manitou touched my ears and my eyes when he spoke (and he spoke like a warrior); I heard his war-cry, I saw the Umbiquas running in the swamps, and crawling like black snakes under the bushes.  I spied thirty scalps on his belt, his leggings and mocassins were sewn with the hair of the Wallah Wallahs[1].

[Footnote 1:  Indians living on the Columbian river, two hundred miles above Fort Vancouver, allied to the Nez Perces, and great supporters of the Americans.]

“I should not speak; I am young yet and have no wisdom; my words are few, I should not speak.  But in my vision I heard a spirit, it came upon the breeze, it entered within me.

“Nanawa is my father, the father to all, he loves us, we are his children; he has brought with him a great warrior of the pale faces, who was a mighty chief in his tribe; he has given us a young chief who is a great hunter; in a few years he will be a great warrior, and lead our young men in the war-path on the plains of the Wachinangoes[2], for Owato Wanisha[3] is a Shoshone, though his skin is paler than the flower of the magnolia.

[Footnote 2:  Name given to the half-breeds by the Spaniards, but by Indians comprehending the whole Mexican race.]

[Footnote 3:  The “spirit of the young beaver;” a name given to me when I was made a warrior.]

“Nanawa has also given to us two Makota Konayas[4], to teach wisdom to our young men; their words are sweet, they speak to the heart; they know everything and make men better.  Nanawa is a great chief, very wise; what he says is right, what he wishes must be done, for he is our father, and he gave us strength to fight our enemies.”