he fire.

"Warriors!" he said, in the tone which had been heard above the roar of
more than one forest battle, "I see that your council has been opened. I
have been on the trail, and though I sought you when the sun went down,
I could not get here sooner. Boldly, like a famished wolf, the
Blacksnake marches through the forest; he comes to deprive the red man
of his cabin, or his lodge, and to drive his children to lands where a
deer track has never been seen. My brethren, to-morrow we march forth to
meet this scourge of the northwestern territory. Let us be strong, and
punish the venomous Blacksnake, as we punished the big soldier long ago.
Be strong and fear not, for the soldiers of the king will fight among us
in the common cause of all the Indians east of the Great River."[B]

[B] The Mississippi.

Murmurs of approbation followed the renegade's harangue.

A chief responded in a like strain, then another and another, until
twelve had spoken for war to the knife. All this time the White
Whirlwind stood near the council fire, with his massive arms folded upon
his giant chest, and a look of triumph in his eye. He was in his
element.

The absence of such chiefs as Little Turtle, Buckhongahelas, and Blue
Jacket, was noticeable; but their places were supplied with savages of
lesser note, but equally belligerent.

All at once there arose to address the council an Indian who created a
sensation.

He came from the portion of the living ring occupied by Simon Girty, and
James gave his brother a quick glance, when he recognized the chief. But
Simon appeared to be composed.

"War?" cried the new speaker, who could not have passed his twenty-sixth
year, "War means death to the Indian and the rule of the American
throughout our hunting grounds. Parquatin is not afraid to lead his
braves to battle; but where is the use? Who comes here to-night and
tells us to bear our bosoms to the rifles of the Blacksnake? Does the
White Whirlwind lead his braves in open fight? No! he will tell us to
rush upon the Americans, while he trails some white girl through the
woods; and make her build the fires in his hut. Parquatin hates the
Blacksnake; but he despises the Indian who will listen to the forked
words of such a pale fox as the Whirlwind. Parquatin has spoken."

The young chief glanced defiantly around the circle of scarlet faces.

With a face blanched to ghastliness by the first sentence, James Girty
heard the speaker through