He was accordingly the next
to speak.
"My brothers," said Bough of the Oak, "I am named after a tree. You
all know that tree. It is not good for bows or arrows; it is not
good for canoes; it does not make the best fire, though it will
burn, and is hot when well lighted. There are many things for which
the tree after which I am named is not good. It is not good to eat.
It has no sap that Injins can drink, like the maple. It does not
make good brooms. But it has branches like other trees, and they are
tough. Tough branches are good. The boughs of the oak will not bend,
like the boughs of the willow, or the boughs of the ash, or the
boughs of the hickory.
"Brothers, I am a bough of the oak. I do not like to bend. When my
mind is made up, I wish to keep it where it was first put. My mind
has been made up to take the scalps of ALL the pale-faces who are
now in the Openings. I do not want to change it. My mind can break,
but it can not bend. It is tough."
Having uttered this brief but sententious account of his view of the
matter at issue, the chief resumed his seat, reasonably well
satisfied with this, his second attempt to be eloquent that day.
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