"I am," answered he, "the partisan leader of the rattlesnakes. I am the 'mighty wise man of very low stature, and of cross and passionate disposition, wearing a particoloured robe, and carrying a bag of rattles,' spoken of by the Great Wahconda, as he who was ordered to guide the Lenapes to the River of Fish."
"We are the Lenapes," answered the priest.
"Then you are the men I expected and was looking for," answered the chief of the rattlesnakes. "But why were you about to declare war against me--me, who alone possess, under the Wahconda, the means of conducting you in safety to the end of your journey? You are too brave and valiant, too hasty and choleric, Lenapes; it will be good for you to lose some of your blood to make you tamer."
"We are very sorry," answered the priest, perceiving the wisdom of conciliating the old fellow, "that the war-club was raised, and the hatchet raked up. It is our wish that the hatchet shall be buried again, and that there shall be a clear sky between us. Shall it be so, rattlesnake?"
"The hatchet shall be buried again, and there shall be a clear sky between us," answered the snake. "Yet, a little bird tells me that a black cloud shall arise, and that the hatchet may as well be put under the bedstead[A], whence it may be easily drawn forth. The rattlesnakes and the Lenapes, ere many suns shall pass, will be enemies, and each attempt the extermination of the other."
[Footnote A: Put the hatchet under the bedstead, an Indian figure, signifying that peace will not last long.]
"Oh, we will not talk of that now," answered the priest; "we will put all thoughts of the evil day afar off. We will smoke with you, snake." So the Lenapes smoked with their new acquaintance; a firm league of peace was made between the two nations, and they became very good friends. They chatted for a long time of various matters, of the wars which the rattlesnakes had waged against the black snakes, the copperheads, the hornsnakes, and other warlike tribes of snakes. Again they moved on, the rattlesnake leading the way, till, much fatigued, their mocassins torn, and their wives cross, they spread their tents, and a night's encampment took place[A]. Again their course was onward, and again they encamped for another night. Spies were sent to search out the land, while the Lenapes travelled after at their leisure. At length the cunning old reptile, who still continued to guide them, declared that he saw, in the dry grass, foot-prints of men who were before them. While they halted, one went forward to reconnoitre. Soon he returned, and told our people that there was a band of Indians encamped in the path of the Lenapes, at a little distance from us. Our hot-blooded young warriors were for attacking them, but the wise old snake said, No. After offering many good reasons why peace should, at all times, be preferred to war, he advised, that a belt of wampum should be sent, and a league formed with them. The belt of wampum is delivered to a brave young warrior, Mottschujinga, or the Little Grizzly Bear. This redoubted chief clothes himself in his best robe; he puts on his richest leggings; he fastens to his war-pipe the _trotters_ of the fawn, and the cock-spurs of the wild turkey; he places in his scalp-lock the wing of the red-bird, the crest of the bittern, and the tail feathers of the pole-pecker. He paints one side of his face, to show that he can smoke in the war-pipe, which hangs in his belt, as gracefully and willingly as in the pipe of peace he carries in his hand, and as a fearless warrior, that his thoughts are quite as much of war as peace.