the Miamis to choose. It was not a business for you, Paul. We met them, there was a fight—well, they will never appear in the Miami village, and we are here in their place."
Paul understood, and he shuddered a little at the deadly conflict that must have raged out there in the forest while he slept. Then he looked curiously at the three. He never would have known any one of them anywhere. They were savages in every aspect—painted and garbed like them, and with their hair drawn up in the defiant scalp lock.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"Deliver the belts at the Miami village," replied Henry Ware, "but they will be peace belts, not war belts."
"It is death," said Paul in protest.
"It is not death," replied Henry. "We will come back safely, and it is for a great stake. You and Jim must remain here in the woods, waiting for us again, and we'll trust to your skill and caution not to be caught. If the warriors become too thick around here you might retreat to the island. Anyway, the signal will be as before—three wails of the whip-poor-will."
Paul was impressed by his words, which were spoken with gravity and emphasis.
"Yes, it's in a great cause, Henry," he said, "and we'll wait, expecting you to come back."
Five minutes later the three newly made warriors took their path through the forest, and they never looked back. Yet Henry Ware felt emotion. Although he regarded Paul Cotter almost as a younger brother, he respected him as a high type of one kind of being, and they were comrades true as steel. Moreover, he knew that he and Ross and Sol were engaged upon the most dangerous of tasks, and the chances were that they would not come back. Yet he faced them with a high heart and dauntless courage.
The three walked swiftly and silently in single file, and neither Shawnee nor Miami eye would have known that they were not Indian. They walked, toes in, as Indians do, and they had every trick of manner or gesture that the red men have. All trace of civilization was gone. Henry Ware, Thomas floss, and Solomon Hyde had disappeared. In their places were Big Fox, Brown Bear, and The Bat, Shawnee warriors who bore belts to the Miami village, and who would talk about the war to be made upon the white intruders far to the south of the Ohio.
Shortly before noon Big Fox, Brown Bear, and The Bat approached the Miami village, pitched in a pleasant valley, where wood and water were in plenty. Then they uttered the long whoop of the Shawnees, and it was answered from the Miami village; but Big Fox, Brown Bear, and The Bat, assured of a welcome, never stopped, keeping straight on for the village. Squaws and children clustered around them, and openly spoke their admiration of the three stalwart, splendidly proportioned warriors who had come from the friendly tribe; but Big Fox, Brown Bear, and The Bat, in accordance with the Indian nature, took no notice. It was only warriors and chiefs to whom they would condescend to speak, and they were silent and expressionless until the right moment should come. They passed straight through the swarm of old men, women, children, and dogs, toward the center of the village, where a long, low cabin of poles stood. An ancient and reverend figure stood in the doorway to meet them. It was that of Gray Beaver, head chief of the Miamis, an old, old man, gray with years and wise like the beaver, from which he took his name.
"My Shawnee brethren are welcome to the Council House," he said. "You have come far, and you shall rest, and the squaws shall bring you food before we talk."
"It is sufficient to us to see the great and wise chief, Gray Beaver," said Henry. "Though we come from a long journey, it makes us strong and brave again."
The old chief bowed, but his grave features did not relax. Nevertheless, he was pleased in his secret soul at the gallant bearing and polite words of the young warrior who addressed them. He led the way into the Council House, and a half dozen underchiefs followed them, hiding their interest beneath their painted masks of faces.
The Council House was large—fifty warriors could have sat in it—and robes of the buffalo, beaver, and other animals were spread about. Big Fox, Brown Bear, and The Bat sat down gravely, each upon a mat of skins, and were served by the warriors with food and drink, which the squaws had brought to the door, but beyond which they could not pass. The three Shawnee belt bearers ate and drank in silence and dignity, and they appreciated the rest and refreshment so needful to those who had traveled far. Neither did anyone else speak. The venerable Gray Beaver sat on a couch of skins a little higher than the others, and his eyes rested steadily on the belt bearers. The subchiefs, silent and motionless on their mats of skins, also watched the belt bearers. At one end of the great room, in a kind of rude chimney, smoldered the council fire, a bed of coals.
More than half an hour passed, and when the guests had eaten and drunk sufficiently, the venerable chief waved his hands, and the remains of the food and drink were taken away. Then Gray Beaver drew from beneath his robe a beautifully ornamented pipe, with a curved horn stem and a carven bowl. He pressed into the bowl a mixture of tobacco and aromatic herbs, which he also drew from beneath his robe, and lighted it with a coal which one of the chiefs brought from the fire. Then he took three whiffs and gravely and silently passed the pipe to the chief of the Shawnee belt bearers, Big Fox. It was a curious fact, but no one had said that Big Fox was the chief of the three. Something in his manner made all take it for granted, and Big Fox, too, unconsciously accepted it as a matter of course.
The magnificent young warrior took three whiffs at the pipe of peace, and passed it to Brown Bear, who, after doing the same, handed it in his turn to The Bat. Then it was passed on to all the subchiefs, and everyone smoked it in gravity and silence. The smoke circled up in rings against the low roof, and every man sat upon his mat of skins, painted, motionless, and wordless. The young chief, Big Fox, waited. Though his eyes never turned, he saw every detail of the scene, and he was conscious of the tense and breathless silence. He was conscious, too, of the immense dangers that surrounded his comrades and himself, but fear was not in his heart.
"My brethren have come to the Miami village with a message from their friends, the Shawnees," said the ancient chief at last.
"It is so," said Big Fox.
"The hearts of the Shawnees are filled with hatred of the white men, who have come into the hunting grounds beyond the Ohio, and who cut down trees and build houses there."
"It is so."
Big Fox's gaze never wavered. He continued to look straight at the council fire, and the tense silence came again. Big Fox was conscious that the air in the Council House was heavy, and that all were watching him with black, glittering eyes.
"The Shawnees would destroy the white villages, and would seek the help of all the tribes that know them," continued Gray Beaver.
Then Big Fox spoke.
"It is true," he said gravely and slowly, "that the Shawnees would wish the white settlements destroyed, every house burned, and every warrior, squaw, and child killed, that the forest might grow again where they live, and the deer roam again unafraid."
Big Fox paused, and for the first time looked away from the council fire. His piercing gaze swept the circle of the Miamis, and every man among them drew a deep breath. There was something extraordinary in this belt bearer, a majesty and magnetism that all of them felt, and they hung upon his words, listening intently.
"The Shawnees are warriors," resumed Big Fox, "and they do not fear battle. They went last year against the white settlements, and they went alone. The Miamis know that."
There was a deep murmur of assent.
"The Shawnees are wise as well as brave," resumed Big Fox. "Their old chiefs have talked over it long. It is a great war trail upon which we would go, and he who would travel far and long should prepare well. The white men are brave. From their wooden walls last year they beat us off, and many Shawnees fell afterwards in the battle with them in the forest."
Big Fox paused, and swept the circle again with his glittering eyes. As before, every man among them drew a deep breath when that hypnotic gaze fell upon him. But they were hearing words that they had not expected to hear, and after the tremendous gaze had passed there came a faint murmur of surprise. But Big Fox did not seem to notice it. Instead he continued:
"The