The White Squaw Part 12

"The white chief offered me one hundred rifles, two hundred square Mackinaw blankets, five kegs of gunpowder, fifteen bales of cloth and one hundred shot belts, besides beads, knives, and small articles. For this he desires to have possession of the hill as far as the borders of the settlement, and the strip of land lying along the sh.o.r.e of the bay.

"I have told you this with no remark of my own to influence your decision. To you, brothers, I leave it, whatever it may be Oluski will abide by it."

Saying this, he sat down.

The young warrior who had already spoken, once more rose to his feet and addressed himself to his chief.

"Why does Oluski ask us to decide? The land is his, not ours."

Without rising the chief replied to the question. His voice was sad and subdued, as though he were speaking under compulsion.

"I have asked you, my sons," said he, "for good reason. Although the land is my own, the graveyard of our ancestors, which adjoins the property, belongs not only to the whole tribe, but to the children of the tribe for ever!"

A silence, such as precedes a storm fell upon the a.s.sembly.

Then every voice within the council chamber was simultaneously raised in loud protestations, and had Elias Rody seen the flashing eyes and angry gestures, or heard the fierce invective hurled back to his proposal, he would have hesitated to renew it.

Amidst the wild tumult Oluski sate, with head bowed upon his breast, a feeling of sorrow in his heart.

The angry debate that succeeded did not last long; it was but the ebullition of a common sentiment, to which the expression by one voice was alone wanting.

It found it in the same youthful warrior who had spoken before.

The feelings of the warriors being known, he, as well as any other, good give them voice.

"The chosen of the tribe have decided," said he, amidst perfect silence; "I will proclaim their answer."

"Do so," Oluski said, simply raising his head.

"They despise the white chief's bribe, offered for the bones of our ancestors. They bid me ask Oluski what answer he intends making to the pale-face."

The old chief rose hastily to his feet, his form and eyes dilated.

Glancing proudly around the a.s.sembly, he cried out, in a clear ringing voice.

"Oluski's answer is written here."

As he said this, he struck his spread palm upon his breast.

"When the white chief would have it, it shall be No!"

A cry of approbation from every warrior present greeted this patriotic speech.

Hastening forward, they pressed around their chief with e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns of joy.

The aged patriarch felt his blood freshly warmed within his veins--he was young again!

In a few moments the excitement subsided, and the warriors, returning from the council-house, moved off towards their respective dwellings.

Oluski was the last to emerge from the council chamber.

As he stepped across the threshold, the fire that animated him seemed to have become suddenly extinguished.

His form was bent, his steps tottering and listless.

As he looked down the hill, he caught a glimpse of the white settlement, with its window-lights twinkling through the darkness.

One, more brilliant than the rest, attracted his attention.

It was the house of Elias Rody.

"I fear," said the old chief, in a dreary voice, "my gift will prove fatal alike to him and me. When ambition enters the heart, honour and justice find no home therein. Our people cannot know that man in the past; they must judge him by his present. I would be generous--the Great Spirit knows that--but I must also be just. If I have raised angry feelings at this council, I have nothing to charge myself with; I did but my duty. May the white chief's heart be turned from the covetous thoughts which fill it! Great Spirit, hear my prayer!"

With a natural and beautiful action, the aged Indian raised his hands in supplication to that Power alike cognisant of the thoughts of white and red.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE SITUATION.

Several days had elapsed since the meeting in the council-house.

The answer of the Seminole warriors had been conveyed to the white governor by Oluski himself.

The old chief couched the decision in kindly words mingled with regrets.

Elias Rody was wonderfully self-possessed.

He smiled, shrugged his shoulders, grasped the Seminole's hand, and with a wave of his own seemed to dismiss the subject from his thoughts.

Nay, more, he presented the old warrior with a beautifully inlaid rifle, a bale of broad-cloth, and a keg of powder.

"Come, come," said he speaking in the friendliest tone, "don't let a mere whim of mine affect such a friendship as ours. You _must_ accept these things--mere trifles. Your taking them will prove that you harbour no unkindness towards me or mine."

Thus pressed, Oluski accepted the presents.

The governor smiled covertly as the old chief departed.

Nelatu had recovered from his wound; he daily spent hours in company with Warren, and there was no lack of diversion for the white youth or his red-skinned companion.

Their canoe darted through the blue waters of the bay, or stole dreamily along the river's current.

Their rifles brought down the wild fowl upon the sea, or the quail and partridge upon the land.

Their fishing-rods and spears furnished many a dainty dish.

Sometimes, going farther afield, they would bring home a deer, or a brace or two of wild turkeys--or, bent on destruction, would penetrate some dark lagoon and slay the hideous alligator.