She was puzzled by the conflicting arguments and the lack of
enthusiasm. Fully two hours had passed, and there was no sign of an
agreement. The eager spectators, in the outer rows, gradually settled
down.

During a lull between two speeches, Menard spoke to the maid, who was
beginning to show traces of weariness.

"It may be a long sitting, Mademoiselle. We must make the best of
it."

"Yes." She smiled. "I am a little tired. It has been a hard day."

"Too hard, poor child. But I hope to see you safe very soon now. I am
relying on the Big Throat. He, with a few of the older chiefs, sees
farther than these hot-heads. He knows that France must conquer in the
end, and is wise enough to make terms whenever he can."

"But can he, M'sieu? Will they obey him?"

"Not obey, exactly; he will not command them. Indians have no
discipline such as ours. The chiefs rely on their judgment and
influence. But they have followed the guidance of the Big Throat for
too many years to leave it now."

Another chief rose to speak. The sun had gone, and the long building
was growing dark rapidly. A number of squaws came through the circle,
throwing wood on the fires. The new flames shot up, and threw a
flickering light on the copper faces, many of which still wore the
paint of the morning. The smoke lay over them in wavering films, now
and again half hiding some sullen face until it seemed to fade away
into the darkness.

At last the whole situation lay clear before the council. Some
speakers were for war, some for peace, others for aiding the Senecas
as a matter of principle. The house was divided.

There was a silence, and the pipes glowed in the dusk; then the Long
Arrow rose. The listless spectators stirred and leaned forward. The
maid, too, was moved, feeling that at last the moment of decision was
near. She was surprised to see that he had none of the savage
excitement of the morning. He was as quiet and tactful in speech as
the Big Throat himself.

Slowly the Long Arrow drew his blanket close about him and began to
speak. The house grew very still, for the whole tribe knew that he
had, in his anger of the morning, disputed the authority of the Big
Throat. There had been hot words, and the great chief had rebuked him
contemptuously within the hearing of half a hundred warriors. Now he
was to stand before the council, and not a man in that wide circle but
wondered how much he would dare to say.

He seemed not to observe the cu