Chapter 20

Welcome, ancient Pistol.
--Shakspeare.

It was not long before the trapper pointed out the commanding person
of Mahtoree, as the leader of the Siouxes. This chief, who had been
among the last to obey the vociferous summons of Weucha, no sooner
reached the spot where his whole party was now gathered, than he threw
himself from his horse, and proceeded to examine the marks of the
extraordinary trail, with that degree of dignity and attention which
became his high and responsible station. The warriors, for it was but
too evident that they were to a man of that fearless and ruthless
class, awaited the result of his investigation with patient reserve;
none but a few of the principal braves, presuming even to speak, while
their leader was thus gravely occupied. It was several minutes before
Mahtoree seemed satisfied. He then directed his eyes along the ground
to those several places where Ishmael had found the same revolting
evidences of the passage of some bloody struggle, and motioned to his
people to follow.

The whole band advanced in a body towards the thicket, until they came
to a halt, within a few yards of the precise spot, where Esther had
stimulated her sluggish sons to break into the cover. The reader will
readily imagine that the trapper and his companions were not
indifferent observers of so threatening a movement. The old man
summoned all who were capable of bearing arms to his side, and
demanded, in very unequivocal terms, though in a voice that was
suitably lowered, in order to escape the ears of their dangerous
neighbours, whether they were disposed to make battle for their
liberty, or whether they should try the milder expedient of
conciliation. As it was a subject in which all had an equal interest,
he put the question as to a council of war, and not without some
slight exhibition of the lingering vestiges of a nearly extinct
military pride. Paul and the Doctor were diametrically opposed to each
other in opinion; the former declaring for an immediate appeal to
arms, and the latter was warmly espousing the policy of pacific
measures. Middleton, who saw that there was great danger of a hot
verbal dispute between two men, who were governed by feelings so
diametrically opposed, saw fit to assume the office of arbiter; or
rather to decide the question, his situation making him a sort of
umpire. He also leaned to the side of peace, for he evidently saw
that, in consequence of the vast superiority of their enemies,
violence would irretrievably lead to their destruction.

The trapper listened to the reasons of the young soldier with great
attention; and, as they were given with the steadiness of one who did
not suffer apprehension to blind his judgment, they did not fail to