Wait and go up with Lisa. Tell your people the Long Knife counsels them to remain quiet."
When Lisa set out for the north as agent of both the fur business and that of the Government, he carried with him mementoes and friendly reminders to all the principal chiefs of the northern tribes.
Big Elk of the Omahas, Black Cat and Big White of the Mandans, Le Borgne of the Minnetarees, even the chiefs of the dreaded Teton Sioux were not forgotten. The Red Head had been there, had visited their country. He was the son of their Great Father,—they would listen to the Red Head Chief.
At this particular juncture of our national history, Clark the Red Head and Manuel Lisa the trader formed a fortunate combination for the interests of the United States. Their words to the northern chiefs were weighty. Their gifts were continued pledges of sacred friendship. While the eyes of the nation were rivetted on the conflict in the East and on the ocean, Clark held the trans-Mississippi with even a stronger grip than his illustrious brother had held the trans-Alleghany thirty years before.
Along with Lisa up the Missouri to the Dakotas went Tammaha, the Rising Moose, and crossed to Prairie du Chien.
"Where do you come from and what business have you here?" cried the British commander, rudely jerking Tammaha's bundle from his back and examining it for letters.
"I come from St. Louis," answered the Moose. "I promised the Long Knife I would come to Prairie du Chien and here I am."
"Lock him in the guard house. He ought to be shot!" roared the officer.
"I am ready for death if you choose to kill me," answered Rising Moose.
At last in the depth of winter they sent him away.
Determined now, the old chief set out in the snows to turn all his energy against the British.
"The Old Priest," said some of the Indians, "Tammaha talks t
