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I will pardon every man of you who can produce a wife or a sweetheart who can prove to my satisfaction that her love for you is greater than the voice of the Thompson, and fiercer than the roar of the Fraser." "Never!" shouted the tribesmen, and every bow and arrow was turned simultaneously upon the chief. "Slaves! Cowards!" thundered the enraged and fearless kookpi, like a mountain lion in pain.
It is not our purpose to convey the impression that this kookpi was cruel, treacherous, cold-blooded and selfish only, and a man who had no other ambition than war and the spoils of war. No, if he was a fiend on the battlefield, he was a lamb at home. He had a soft side that battled with the concrete in him at times. His respect for Cupid had as much avoirdupois as his respect for Mars.
It is safe to say, however, that Netaskit was too wise a kookpi to order the death of so many brave followers, as this means of gratifying his wounded pride would simply mean the weakening of the tribe, and would put his own life in jeopardy. The scene was more than poetic; and it was pathetic in the extreme.
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