stood as impassive as the rest. Then, when the demands of Indian
stoicism had been satisfied, Snoqualmie turned his face, a handsome
but treacherous and cruel face, upon the messenger.

"The warrior comes to speak the words of our brother, the chief of the
Bannocks; he is welcome. Shall we smoke the pipe of peace before we
hear our brother's words?"

The Bannock gazed steadily at Snoqualmie. In that fierce and proud
regard was something the Cayuse could not fathom.

"Why should the peace-pipe be smoked?" he asked. "Was it not smoked in
the great council a moon ago? Did not Snoqualmie say then that the two
tribes should henceforth be as one tribe, and that the Bannocks should
be the brethren of the Cayuses forever?"

"Those were the words," replied the chief with dignity. "Snoqualmie
has not forgotten them."

All eyes were now turned on the messenger; they saw that something
unexpected was coming. The Bannock drew his form up to its full
height, and his resolute features expressed the bitterest scorn.

"Nor have the Bannocks forgotten. At the council you talked 'peace,
peace.' Last night some of your young men surprised a little camp of
Bannocks,--a few old men and boys who were watching horses,--and slew
them and ran off the horses. Is that your peace? The Bannocks will
have no such peace. _This_ is the word the chief of the Bannocks sends
you!"

Holding up the peace-pipe that had been smoked at the great council
and afterward given to the medicine-men of the Bannocks as a pledge of
Cayuse sincerity, he broke the long slender stem twice, thrice,
crushed the bowl in his fingers, and dashed the pieces at Snoqualmie's
feet. It was a defiance, a contemptuous rejection of peace, a
declaration of war more disdainful than any words could have made it.

Then, before they could recover from their astonishment, the Bannock
turned and leaped through the crowd at the door,--for an instant's
stay was death. Even as he leaped, Snoqualmie's tomahawk whizzed after
him, and a dozen warriors were on their feet, weapon in hand. But the
swift, wild drama had been played like lightning, and he was gone.
Only, a brave who had tried to intercept his passage lay on the ground
outside the lodge, stabbed to the heart. They rushed to the door in
time to see him throw himself on his horse and dash off, looking back
to give a yell of triumph and defiance.

In less time than it takes to describe it, the horses tethered near
the lodges we