Hence I'm filled with a just enthusiasm at the thought of going back speedily to the good old ways and the good old days.

It's possible, Tayoga, that our remote grandfathers knew best." "When Dagaeoga comes to his death bed, seventy or eighty years from now, and the medicine man tells him but little more breath is left in his body, what then do you think he will do ?" "What will I do, Tayoga ?" "You will say to the medicine man, 'Tell me exactly how long I have to live,' and the medicine man will reply: 'Ten minutes, O Dagaeoga, venerable chief and great orator.' Then you will say: 'Let all the people be summoned and let them crowd into the wigwam in which I lie,' and when they have all come and stand thick about your bed, you will say, 'Now raise me into a sitting position and put the pillows thick behind my back and head that I may lean against them.' Then you will speak to the people.

The words will flow from your lips in a continuous and golden stream.

It will be the finest speech of your life.

It will be filled with magnificent words, many of them, eight or ten syllables long.