But I dreaded the moment when his argument should leave theory and face me in the concrete.  The change came suddenly, as in music a tender melody will merge abruptly into a summons to arms.  He called me to witness.  The Iroquois were at the gates.  They outnumbered the Malhominis, but the Sacs, the Chippewas, and the Winnebagoes were all within a day’s journey, and would come at my call.  The time for the alliance of which I had told them was at hand.  My body was crippled but my brain was whole.  To-morrow he, the chief, at my bidding, and with my watchword, would send runners through the tribes.  Within the week a giant force could be gathered and an attack made.  The Iroquois camp would be exterminated, and then I, at the head of the force, could march where I willed.  Never had the western tribes followed a white man, but I had called their hearts from their bodies, and they would go.

But one thing I was to remember.  He, Outchipouac, the chief, was my brother in arms.  He had rescued me, clothed me, furnished me the means of war.  My victories were his victories.  These were his conditions.  All Iroquois slaves that might be captured were to belong to the Malhominis to be incorporated in their tribe.  The other tribes could divide the plunder, but the Malhominis needed new blood for adoption.  I must agree to that.

He stopped.  I was too sick of mind to speak, and my distemper was not of my wound.  I had builded for this moment for two years, and now that it had come I was going to turn my back on it.  More, I was going to refuse aid to a man who had succored me, had shown me genuine kindness.  Self-pity is contemptible, but I felt it now.

“I cannot lead you,” I said dully.  “Gather your troops if you like, and make the attack without me.  I cannot be here.  To-morrow I must start for Michillimackinac.  You will give me a canoe and a man?”

The lightning filled the tent and lit our faces, and I saw the chief start back under the blow of my words.  He was shocked out of all his inherited and acquired phlegm.  He did not speak, but he rose and peered into my eyes and I saw bewilderment go and contempt rise to take its place.  To feel the righteous disdain of an Indian!  That is an unusual experience for a white man.

And still he did not reply.  He sat down and pulled his blanket over him.  He was sorting out the evidence against me and giving judgment.  It seemed at least an hour that he sat silent.  And when he did speak he brought no manna.

“You have sold yourself to the Iroquois wolf.  You are a child.  You see only what is in front of your nose and forget what may come later.  You are a fox.  You hand us over to the wolf, but what do you expect?  Has a wolf gratitude?  No, but he has hunger.  Fox meat is poor and stringy, but the wolf has a large stomach.  Let the fox beware.”

I pulled myself to my feet, though my shoulder cried to me for mercy.  I jerked the chief’s blanket aside.