The White Squaw

“From Warren.”

Chapter Eleven.

The Council

Oluski’s entrance into the council-house was the signal for all eyes to turn towards him.

Slowly and with dignity he traversed the space between the door and the seat reserved for him, at the upper end of the hall.

Once there he turned around, bowed gravely to the assembled warriors, and then took his seat.

Pipes were now lighted, and gourds filled with honey and water handed around.

Oluski declined the latter, but lighted one of the pipes, and for some time watched, as if in reverie, the circling of the smoke.

The silence that ensued upon the old chief’s entrance continued for several minutes. At length a young warrior, opposite to him, rose and spoke —

“Will our chief tell his brothers why they are called together, and what is it that makes him thoughtful and silent? We will hear and advise – let Oluski speak!”

After this brief address, the young man resumed his seat, while those around the circle murmured their assent to what he had said.

Thus solicited, Oluski arose, and spoke as follows: —

“It is not unknown to many of our warriors now present that I was deputed by the elder brothers and themselves many years since to go to the pale-faces in Georgia to settle some old disputes about lands sold by our people to them, and about which wicked men of both races had caused quarrels and bloodshed. I departed on my errand, went to the great town where their council-house stands, spoke truth, and made new treaties with them. All this I did, and our people were pleased!”

A chorus of voices ratified the chief’s statement.

“It may be remembered that I made new friends with some of the pale-faces, and concluded treaties, founded on justice, which gave to our people property they needed in exchange for lands which we did not require.”

Renewed signals of assent.

“To one pale-face more than to others I was under bonds of gratitude. He did me great service when I required it, and I promised to repay him. An Indian chief never breaks his word. I gave to that man some of the lands left to me by my fathers. These are the lands upon which the white settlement now stands. The pale-face I speak of was Elias Rody!”

The voices of the assembled warriors were silent. An eager look of expectancy was all the answer Oluski received at mention of Rody’s name.

The old chief continued.

“To-day Elias Rody came here and talked with me. He told me that the hour had arrived when I could do him a great service, and again prove myself grateful for the aid he had afforded me. I told him to speak out. He did so. I listened. He said the colony he had founded was prosperous, but there was one thing he still desired; and that was the favour he came to ask. Twice before he had spoken of it. This time he required a final answer. His demand was more than I could of myself grant. I told him so. For this reason have I called you into council. I will lay his wish before you. It is for you to decide.”

Oluski paused to give opportunity for any one who chose to make a remark.

None was made, but the listeners looked around them, as if trying to read each other’s thoughts.

The chief proceeded.

“What the white man wants is to buy from us this hill upon which our habitations are built.”

A chorus of angry, dissentient voices greeted the proposal.

“Hear me out,” continued Oluski, “and then decide.”

Silence ensued as sudden as the noisy interruption.

“The white chief offered me one hundred rifles, two hundred square Mackinaw blankets, five kegs of gunpowder, fifteen bales of cloth and one hundred shot belts, besides beads, knives, and small articles. For this he desires to have possession of the hill as far as the borders of the settlement, and the strip of land lying along the shore of the bay.

“I have told you this with no remark of my own to influence your decision. To you, brothers, I leave it, whatever it may be Oluski will abide by it.”

Saying this, he sat down.

The young warrior who had already spoken, once more rose to his feet and addressed himself to his chief.

“Why does Oluski ask us to decide? The land is his, not ours.”

Without rising the chief replied to the question. His voice was sad and subdued, as though he were speaking under compulsion.

“I have asked you, my sons,” said he, “for good reason. Although the land is my own, the graveyard of our ancestors, which adjoins the property, belongs not only to the whole tribe, but to the children of the tribe for ever!”

A silence, such as precedes a storm fell upon the assembly.

Then every voice within the council chamber was simultaneously raised in loud protestations, and had Elias Rody seen the flashing eyes and angry gestures, or heard the fierce invective hurled back to his proposal, he would have hesitated to renew it.

Amidst the wild tumult Oluski sate, with head bowed upon his breast, a feeling of sorrow in his heart.

The angry debate that succeeded did not last long; it was but the ebullition of a common sentiment, to which the expression by one voice was alone wanting.

It found it in the same youthful warrior who had spoken before.

The feelings of the warriors being known, he, as well as any other, good give them voice.

“The chosen of the tribe have decided,” said he, amidst perfect silence; “I will proclaim their answer.”

“Do so,” Oluski said, simply raising his head.

“They despise the white chief’s bribe, offered for the bones of our ancestors. They bid me ask Oluski what answer he intends making to the pale-face.”

The old chief rose hastily to his feet, his form and eyes dilated.

Glancing proudly around the assembly, he cried out, in a clear ringing voice.

“Oluski’s answer is written here.”

As he said this, he struck his spread palm upon his breast.

“When the white chief would have it, it shall be No!”

A cry of approbation from every warrior present greeted this patriotic speech.

Hastening forward, they pressed around their chief with ejaculations of joy.