too
young to carry them. Feeling he had made sufficient impression of his
bravery to leave the decision in the hands of the Chiefs, without
noticing his triumph in the applauding multitude, his fiery eyes rolled
proudly from Chief to Chief. He passed with a haughty step before the
Sachem, who had several times rather depreciated his bravery, rejoicing
in this public opportunity of boasting a little before the Chiefs,
evidently thinking it would greatly contribute to his ambitious purposes
and make a good impression on the Sachem's dark-eyed daughter.
As he finished his speech the crowd commenced reciting the virtues of
their deceased Chief, calling for revenge, and insulting the prisoners
with every epithet their wild imagination could suggest. A dissatisfied
"hugh" from the old Sachem caused the first Chief again to rise, when
in an instant all again became quiet, such were the peculiar customs of
these people and the great influence of their Chiefs and Rulers. In a
calm voice he addressed again the old Sachem:
"Thy son has spoken with a brave and cunning tongue; yet he speaks
not to the heart of his Chief. He is ready to strike the enemy. Who
carries more arrows or sharper ones than Black Snake? Whose
stone-headed war club is deadlier? Whose tomahawk is freer on the
battle-field? The Black Snake coils himself under the bushes and
springs upon his sleeping enemy. When they would strike him he is
gone, and their club falls where he once stood. He will be a great
warrior when he gathers a few more years. He needs experience to lead
the young braves. Let our father speak from his heart, that he may hide
nothing from his children, then will they know how to counsel."
Thus called upon, the old Chief rose with a calm brow, and advancing
with great dignity, slowly scanned the faces of his dusky audience. His
eyes beamed with respectful, hopeful submission on his circle of Chiefs,
also upon the women judges, who make the final decision in choosing a
new Chief after hearing the arguments in favor of each candidate.
Glancing towards Black Snake with a stern, unwavering countenance,
regarding the prisoners with unaffected sympathy, and finally resting
with a fond look of painful solicitude upon his daughter, who was
seated on a mossy carpet beneath a large tree, within hearing distance
of all that was said--the wolf, the Fawn's devoted friend, coiled at her
feet, and her neglected wampum carelessly thrown over his glossy
neck--in a clear, low voice, as one who having once determined upon
the necessity no hesitating fears should prevent, Great Oak addressed
the now watchful and silent multitude.
"It is true the feet of the young brave have been far away on the
war-path; his tomahawk and arrows have not been idle; he crept like a
serpent upon his victims; his war club was stained with their blood;
their scalps were many by his side; he came not back empty-handed; he
brought prisoners to his people and gifts to his Manitou."
The low murmur of applause now increased to a shrill howl, which the
echoing rocks sent flying on, mingling with the roar of the falling
waters. This approval being taken for their approbation, which
promised support to his opinion, Great Oak, thus confirmed in his
remarks, continued:
"War Eagle came not back to his people; his wigwam is lonely; did he
fly away like a frightened bird at the sight of his enemy?" An angry
"hugh" was uttered sympathetically. "Did he die with his body filled
with the arrows of his enemy?" After a short pause he answered
himself:
"No, my children, the tomahawk was buried in the back of his head.
Was his foe behind him? Yes, my children, but not Grey Eagle and his
brave little band now standing in front of you. They were also in front
of War Eagle, but he saw in them no enemies; Grey Eagle saw no
enemies then. Look at the paint, of Grey Eagle and his braves; do you
see the red and black worn by a Chief on the war-path? Has the
Manitou thrown a cloud over the eyes of your Sachem? I see only the
white paint of peace and friendship. When were our fathers ever known
to bind a friend?
"Your Sachem has lived too long; he has lived to see the ceremonies of
his people laughed at by boys--the sons of his friends with friendly
colors bound at his feet by his own children, and the tomahawks of his
people ready to bury themselves in their flesh."
The deep silence which succeeded these words sufficiently showed the
great veneration with which his people received their ideas from their
oldest Chief. All listened with breathless expectation for what was to
come. Black
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