The Agent rose and stated his object to the meeting. He was a firm man; he had spent much of his life among the savages; but it needed all his resolution, and all his knowledge of the Indian character, to effect the desired object. As he spoke there was no friendly look returned; no sound of approbation uttered. They listened with a calm, cold air, and he finished his address, conscious that he had gained no point, nor enlisted the friendly feeling of a single breast, in the whole of the dark circles which surrounded him. When he ended, the chief, who during the whole time had been seated quietly at the foot of a pillar, rose. He was in favour of releasing the captive, and of sending her off with the whites. He spoke with the wild energy, and vehement gesticulation customary among the Indians. During his speech there was a silence—a portentous silence in the lodge. But when he had finished, a hundred throats yelled out cries of anger, and a hundred eyes gleamed fiercely upon him. It was not, however, in his nature to yield. Incensed at the opposition to his will, he raised his voice, until it even drowned the noise of the whole assembly, and swore by the Great Spirit, that she should be delivered to the whites; and he dared any man of the whole assembly, to offer her the slightest injury. All quailed before the master spirit, and bowed to the superior energy of his nature. One after another they left the lodge, until the chief, the captive, and the whites were its sole occupants. In a few moments the chief went out also. In an hour he returned, followed by two armed warriors, whom he stationed in the opposite part of the lodge, placing the squaw between them. Upon being asked the reason of this precaution, he mentioned that the Soldier Chief, instigated by one of the Medecin-men of the village, had created some disturbance, which caused him to fear for the life of the captive, and that these men were placed to protect her. He evaded all farther inquiries, and shortly after left the lodge.