See. Here is the
truth. When the Great Spirit draws the game away so that the hunting is
poor, ye sit down and fill your hearts with murder, and in the blackness
of your thoughts kill my brother. Idle and shiftless and evil ye are,
while the earth cries out to give you of its plenty, a great harvest from
a little seed, if ye will but dig and plant, and plough and sow and reap,
and lend your backs to toil. Now hear and heed. The end is come.
"For this once ye shall be fed--by the blood of my heart, ye shall be
fed! And another year ye shall labour, and get the fruits of your labour,
and not stand waiting, as it were, till a fish shall pass the spear, or a
stag water at your door, that ye may slay and eat. The end is come, ye
idle men. O chief, harken! One of your braves would have slain me, even
as you slew my brother--he one, and you a thousand. Speak to your people
as I have spoken, and then come and answer for the deed done by your
hand. And this I say that right shall be done between men and men.
Speak."
Jim had made his great effort, and not without avail. Arrowhead rose
slowly, the cloud gone out of his face, and spoke to his people, bidding
them wait in peace until food came, and appointing his son chief in his
stead until his return.
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