Further still, on the other side across the trickling brook, to the number of near two hundred, men, women and children, soldiers, citizens and strangers, all in silence awaited the first act of the drama--the coming of 'Tonio with his retinue, marshalled by that expert master of aboriginal ceremonies, Lieutenant Bright.
And presently he came. No picturesque war bonnet distinguished him. No robe or mantle hung in stately folds about his form. 'Tonio sought not, as does his red brother of the plains, the theatrical aid of impressive costume. Tall, spare and erect, his sinewy legs and arms bare almost their entire length, his moccasins worn and faded, but his fillet, camisa and trailing breech-clout almost snowy white; destitute of plume, feather, necklace, armlet, ornament of any kind, unarmed, yet unafraid, with slow and measured stop the chief approached the council tent, three of his warriors in his train, and, escorted by Bright, turned squarely as he came before the outspread canvas, entered beneath its shade, and stopping midway across the greensward, his head upheld, his black eyes fixed in calm, reposeful trust upon the general's face, halted and stood simply before him, saying not a word.
"'Tonio, will you be seated?" asked the general, and an orderly stepped forward with a camp chair. Even before the interpreter could translate, 'Tonio understood, motioned the orderly aside, turned and signalled to his followers, who quickly settled to the ground and seated themselves, cross-legged, in half circle beneath him, but the chieftain, accused, would stand. On the dead silence that followed, all men listening with attentive ear, even the women and children across the little ravine, hushing their nervous giggle and chatter, 'Tonio's voice was presently uplifted, neither harsh nor guttural, but deep and almost musical. In the tongue of his people he spoke seven words, and there seemed no need of the interpreter's translation:
A strange tribunal was this--"a method of procedure," as the acting judge advocate of this distant department took frequent occasion to tell us when the general wasn't around, "that would seem to have no warrant in law." Something to this effect being suggested to the general by the chief of the department staff, who went on to say that he supposed it was a case of "_Inter arma silent leges_," the general's beard, which hid his mouth, was observed to twitch, and the wrinkles at the corner of his steely-blue eyes followed suit. It was a way of his when trying _not_ to smile. Then Bright was heard to say that where the laws were silent, wise lawyers should he likewise, an epigram which long-legged Lieutenant Blake, of Camp McDowell, was delightedly and explosively repeating for the benefit of certain of the ladies looking on from among the cedars, even as 'Tonio appeared. Then no crier was needed to proclaim silence and declare this honorable court now open. Blake had come to Prescott ruefully expectant of official displeasure, and found it, so far as the chief of staff was concerned. But the general's greeting had been so cordial and kind that "Legs" took heart instanter. There was evidently something behind it.