“It is,” he continued vehemently, “plain as the moon in the sky, the trail of the cursed Lenapé and the light foot of his brother; see here, War–Eagle has walked through the water, and Wingenund has sprung over it; the dew has fallen since they passed, they are far before us; but Mahéga must not sleep till their scalps are in his belt. Is Toweno ready?” inquired the fierce chief, tightening his girdle while he loosened the tomahawk suspended from it. “Toweno is ready,” replied the Indian, “to fight or run by the side of Mahéga from morning until night; his hand is not weak, nor are his feet slow, but the great chief must not let the angry spirit bring a cloud before his eyes.” “Let Toweno speak,” said Mahéga, controlling his fierce impatience, “his words will find a path to open ears.” “War–Eagle,” pursued the Osage, “is swift of foot and cunning as a twice–trapped wolf. He has not come upon this far war–path alone. Wingenund has been prowling round the camp; and while Mahéga follows the trail of War–Eagle, the youth may guide the pale–faced warrior called Netis, with his band, to the encampment of the Washashe. Toweno has need of no more words.” Mahéga saw in a moment the truth and force of his follower’s suggestion, and smothering for the moment his passion for revenge, he resolved to return at once to his encampment. “The counsel of Toweno is good,” said he; “when a friend speaks, Mahéga is not deaf.” Among the features that distinguish the character of the North American Indian, there is none more remarkable, none more worthy of the study and the imitation of civilised man, than the patience and impartial candour with which they listen to the advice or opinion of others: although so prone to be swayed by passion and governed by impulse, the Indian seems to have a wonderful power of laying aside these predispositions, when discussing a matter privately with a friend, or openly in council. The decorum with which all their public discussions are conducted has been observed and recorded by every writer familiar with their habits, from the time of Charlevoix, and of the interesting “Letters Edifiantes” to the present day. Colden, Tanner, Mackenzie, and many others who have described the Northern tribes, concur in bearing their testimony to the truth of this observation; Heckewalder, Loskiel, Smith, Jefferson, confirm it in the central region; and the Spanish writers bear frequent witness to it in their descriptions of the Southern tribes whom they met with in their campaigns in Florida and the adjacent country. In reading the account given of the numerous tribes inhabiting the vast region between the Mississippi and the Rocky Mountains, by Clarke, Lewis, Long, and others, the same observation forces itself upon us almost at every page, and it is the more remarkable when we reflect upon two facts: first, that we find this characteristic attributed to forty or fifty different nations