The mother talks to her child, and
the child learns her words. But no child can hear across a great
lake. Once we lived near the rising sun. Where are we now? Some of
our young men say they have seen the sun go down in the lakes of
sweet water. There can be no hunting-grounds beyond THAT spot; and
if we would live, we must stand still in our tracks. How to do this,
we have met to consider.
"Brothers, many wise chiefs and braves are seated at this council-
fire. It is pleasant to my eyes to look upon them. Ottawas,
Chippeways, Pottawattamies, Menominees, Hurons, and all. Our father
at Quebec has dug up the hatchet against the Yankees. The war-path
is open between Detroit and all the villages of the red men. The
prophets are speaking to our people, and we listen. One is here; he
is about to speak. The council will have but a single sense, which
will be that of hearing."
Thus concluding, Bear's Meat took his seat, in the same composed and
dignified manner as that in which he had risen, and deep silence
succeeded. So profound was the stillness, that, taken in connection
with the dark lineaments, the lustrous eyeballs that threw back the
light of the fire, the terrific paint and the armed hands of every
warrior present, the picture might be described as imposing to a
degree that is seldom seen in the assemblies of the civilized.
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