"I know the Comanches, I know the Apaches, and the Arrapahoes. They are
our children; I know it. The Comanches have left us a long, long time,
but the Apaches and Arrapahoes have not yet forgotten the
hunting-grounds where their fathers were born. When I was but a young
hunter, they would come every snow to the lodge of our Manitou, to offer
their presents. It was long before any Pale-face had passed the
mountains. Since that the leaves of the oaks have grown and died eighty
times. It is a long while for a man, but for a nation it is but as
yesterday.
"They are our children,--it would be good to have them with us; they
would share our hunts; we would divide our wealth with them. Then we
would be strong. Owato Wanisha has spoken well; he hath learned many
mysteries with the _Macota Conaya_ (black robes, priests); he is wise.
Yet, as I have said, the red-skin chiefs must ask wisdom from the Great
Master. He will let us know what is good and what is bad. At the next
moon we will return to the council. I have said."
All the chiefs departed, to prepare for their fasting and ceremonies,
while Gabriel, Roche, my old servant, and myself, concerted our measures
so as to insure the success of my enterprise. My servant I despatched to
Monterey, Gabriel to the nearest village of the Apaches, and as it was
proper, according to Indian ideas, that I should be out of the way
during the ceremonies, so as not to influence any chief, I retired with
Roche to the boat-house, to pass the time until the new moon.
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