This continued during the whole evening. As it grew late, group after group of the Pawnees left the fire, and retired into their dwelling. The Delawares soon followed their example, and although their visit had continued for several hours, I fear it did but little towards removing that ancient venom, which, in spite of their apparent friendship, was rankling in their hearts. CHAPTER XXIV. _Konza Council.—White Plume.—Tappage Chief.—Treaty.—Interpreter.—Departure._ On the following morning, the loud report of a piece of artillery announced the hour of council. Once more the different tribes left their respective encampments, and assembled at the place of meeting. Scarcely, however, had they collected, before a long train of warriors were seen stringing over the distant prairie—making for the cantonment. They approached swiftly until they reached the quarters of the officers. They were clothed in white blankets; each man carried a rifle. They were a band from the Konza nation, come to attend the council, and settle the terms of peace. In front of the troop was the White Plume, enveloped in a large drab-coloured over coat. This piece of dress deprived him altogether of that dignity of appearance which had marked him upon our first meeting. He now bore a strong resemblance in form and gracefulness, to a walking hogs-head. However, he seemed perfectly satisfied with his attire: and in truth, I believe there was scarcely a Pawnee who did not envy him the possession of this cumbersome article of apparel. The appearance of this chief, and of a delegation from his tribe, had been anxiously expected. They were more venomous in their hate against the Pawnees, than any other of the neighbouring Indians, and their hostility had been marked by deeds of a more bloody character. The Pawnees sat in silence, but with looks of smothered ferocity, as they saw them approach. However, they evinced no hostile feelings, other than those conveyed by their glances. After a short conference with their agent, the Konzas withdrew from the green, and encamped in the prairie, at a few hundred yards’ distance. The council then proceeded. The different chiefs and warriors of the small tribes of the vicinity, addressed the Pawnees—all agreeing to bury their hostility, and regard them as friends. These offers were most thankfully received by the Pawnees, though one of them afterwards remarked to the interpreter, “that they had now made peace with several nations with whom they had never been at war, and of whom they had never heard, until they rose to address them in council.” This was little to be wondered at; as many of them were most pitifully represented; and two or three little, pursy, short-winded fellows, dressed in dirty calico, and bedraggled ribands, composed the whole of their delegation, and probably the whole of their tribe.