"
"And you will not lift your hatchet to save the tree?"
Longuant raised his eyes. "The hatchet of the Ottawas is always
bright. My brethren will hold it in readiness. If the tree looks
strong and worth saving, they will raise the hatchet and defend it. If
the tree is unsound, they will put the hatchet at its roots."
Well, I had my answer. And, to be just, I could not blame them. The
Ottawas were never a commanding people. Their chief was wise to throw
his vote with the winning side. But I turned away saddened.
Longuant followed. "There is always a bed in the lodges of the Ottawas
for my brother of the red heart. Will he sleep in it?"
I turned. "Would my head be safer if I did, O brother of the wise
tongue?"
"My brother has said it."
I took a Flemish knife from my pocket and handed it to him.
"Take it, my brother, for my gratitude. It shall not cut the
friendship between us. It shall cut any stranger that would come
between your heart and mine. Longuant, I have a wife. She is fair,
and stars shine in her eyes. She has loved a daughter of your people.
I cannot hide in your lodge,--a man who carries a sword must use
it,--but will you take my wife and keep her? Will you keep her with
Singing Arrow for a few days?"
Longuant thought a moment.
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