Treasury of American Indian TalesRessler, Theodore Whitson
General
Treasury of American Indian Tales
Ressler, Theodore Whitson
Indians of North America -- Folklore; Indians of North America -- Juvenile literature
“The Delawares have sworn to their chiefs that none among our village
have invaded the hunting grounds of the Iroquois and therefore there is
no need for war between us.”
There was some hushed conversation and then one of the elders spoke to a
guard at the door. “Summon the warrior known as Masi.” Masi was brought
to the council and the elder who had summoned him spoke.
“Masi, it was you who reported to the council of the thievery of the
Delaware and it was you who brought to our council the entrails of a
deer to prove before the council your story of having seen the hunting
party of Delawares invade our lands and kill much wild game. Now tell
these warriors who come to us from the Delawares that you have seen this
with your own eyes.”
Masi spoke and told of having seen a hunting party of some fifteen
braves of the Delawares stalk, kill, and strip the carcasses of several
deer and take several wild turkey and other wild game. When he had
finished, the council looked first at Masi and then at Running Bear. The
elder was about to speak once more when the tall warrior who had saved
the life of Little Horse stepped forward and spoke to the council.
“I do not know why,” he said, “but my heart tells me the Delaware speaks
truth. For many weeks now Masi has brooded over the death of his sister,
and his mind has not been quite right since she died of the great
sickness. We know that Masi has been a great warrior, but ask him once
again to repeat what he saw. For when he first told his story the
hunting party of Delawares were six in number. Suddenly they have
increased to number fifteen.”
“Yes, yes,” cried Masi, “and there have been many, many more since that
day. If we are not careful they will be in our village in one more sun
and we shall all be murdered in our sleep.”
With that, Masi began to scream and he threw himself upon the ground,
tearing at the ground and bemoaning the death of his young sister whom
he had loved dearly. He was truly a grief-stricken brave gone mad.
The elder who seemed to be a leader in the council stepped forward then
and placing his hands upon the shoulders of Running Bear, he said,
“There has been a great wrong done here, and we must sit and smoke the
peacepipe together. We ask forgiveness, for we have wronged each other
greatly. Once again peace shall exist between the Iroquois and the
Delawares and let us not allow anything to break that peace. Brothers we
have been in the past, and brothers we will be again. Come sit with us
and we shall smoke the pipe.”
With that, the peacepipe was passed from hand to hand and when all had
smoked, food and drink were brought. Then there was much rejoicing as
the village was told of the results of the council meeting. Loaded down
with gifts, Running Bear and his two warriors returned to their village
with the word of peace.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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