d a key-note with which his braves could
shout in harmony.

"But," resumed the chief impressively, "we cannot sweep them off the
earth; we cannot even sweep them off the banks of Red River. We might
easily sweep the Saulteaux into Lake Winnipeg if we thought it worth
while to try, but the Palefaces--never! Okematan has travelled far to
the south and seen the Palefaces there. They cannot be counted. They
swarm like our locusts; they darken the earth as our buffaloes darken
the plains. They live in stone wigwams. I have seen one of their
wigwams that was big enough to hold all the Crees' wigwams bundled
together. If we killed or scalped all the Palefaces in Red River the
great white chief would come over the great salt lake with an army that
would swallow us up as the buffalo swallows up a tuft of grass.

"Besides," continued Okematan, with a slight touch of pathos in his
tone, "there are good and bad men among the Palefaces, just as there are
good and bad among ourselves. I have dwelt for many moons with a tribe
called Scosh-min. Okematan loves the Scosh-min. They speak a wonderful
language, and some of them are too fond of fire-water; but their braves
fear nothing, and their squaws are pretty and work hard--almost as hard
as our squaws--though they are not quite as good-looking as ours. They
are too white--their faces are like buffalo fat!"

A "Waugh," which might be translated "Hear, hear," greeted this
statement of opinion.

"Now," continued our chief, "if we swept away all the people of Red
River, we would sweep away the good Scosh-min, which would be foolish,
and we would gain nothing in the end, but would bring worse trouble on
our heads. My counsel, therefore, is for peace. I advise that we
should let the buffalo runners and the people of Red River alone; send a
message with our grievances to the great white chief; ask him to come
back over the great salt lake to put things right, and, in the meantime,
wait with patience; attend to our own business; hunt, fish, eat, drink,
sleep, and be happy."

Having delivered his harangue, Okematan sat down amid murmurs of mingled
applause and disapprobation. It was evident that he had created a
serious division of opinion in the camp, and it seemed as if on the
impression made by the next speaker would depend the great question of
peace or war.

Presently an old warrior arose, and a profound silence followed, for
they held him in great respect.

"My brav