furiously beaten, and singing the death-chant the warriors moved in a circle about the grave, accompanying their wailing notes with the pantomime of twanging the bow, throwing the tomahawk, paddling the canoe, or casting the spear. These ceremonials completed, the throng moved away on the homeward route, to the village of Wyandance. The time for mourning had come, and throughout the village naught save the sound of wailing was heard. Within the chief's lodge the four kings sat in council. Numerous fires blazed in the green dells of the Heather woods, where the braves had gathered in groups to rehearse the deeds of the dead warrior and smoke the calumet, the cries and moans of the squaws floating in the air about them like the wails of lost souls, as they hacked their flesh with sharpened stones, tore their hair, and besmeared their faces with ashes, crooning, swaying their bodies, and exhibiting every phase of the grief pent within their breasts until the time allotted to silence had passed. But human nature is the same with the red man. as the white, and presently the clamour ceased, while the squaws prepared the feast, to which their lords sat down with keen appetites, sharpened by the fasting and fatigue they had endured; but it was long past midnight when all sounds of mourning ceased, and wrapping their blankets around them the warriors lay down to slumber. 'To frighten away the evil spirits. CHAPTER V AN INDIAN WOOING "O Jealousy, Thou ugliest fiend of hell! thy deadly venom W HEN Guy Kingsland first met Heather Flower his surprised demeanour and unguarded admiration for her was not entirely lost upon the Indian maiden. Like the pale-face daughters of Eve, she was not proof against the adulation of the sterner sex, and certainly not insensible to the fascinations of the young English officer with the dashing air that so well became him and a grace of manner at once careless and high bred, and whose bold blue eyes were fairly searching her face. She had heard of the coming of the pale-face cavalier, but Guy Kingsland was correct in his surImise that his betrothed would not confide the secret of her engagement even to her bosom friend. The contract had been made without reference to the wishes of the maiden, who, as in duty bound, had acquiesced in the arrangement which would unite two goodly fortunes. But not even to Heather Flower could she confess that her heart had been given to the dashing young soldier who was proud of her beauty and had played the part of the adoring lover with an energy that was part and parcel of his nature. Heather Flower's vanity had asserted itself when, with a woman's intuition, she detected the look of undisguised admiration in Kingsland's flashing blue eyes. To say that the Indian maiden had seen the suns of twenty summers without having a lover would be idle, but to not one among the young warriors who had sought her favour had she given more than a passing regard. According to the customs of her people, her hand had been sought in marriage by more than one of her father's braves, but with that freedom peculiar to her station, while she had not discouraged the civilities of any, she carefully refrained from looking with more favour upon one than upon another. Every inch a princess, pure-minded, gentle, with an absence of the arrogant pride that too often possesses her sisters of more favoured races, she was lovable and much beloved by all her people. In all matters of the heart, so far as her father was concerned, she was left to her own sweet willnot that he was unmindful of the happiness of his daughter, but because of the affairs of state that at all times weighed heavily upon him, and of his confidence in his daughter's fitness and sagacity to take care of herself, and so it happened that he had never annoyed her with even an attempt at matchmaking. After the savage fashion, she was a progressive woman, far beyond the average of her sisters. She was jealous for the renown of her chieftain father, he being the Totem or Grand Sachem over all Seawan-ha-ka. The valour of her father's warriors and the prowess of his hunters were her pride. She was the patroness of all games or exercises tending to a high order of efficiency on the warpath and in the chase, and encouraged, by her presence, the athletic sports and pastimes so conducive to physical endurance, which, among her people, was the crowning glory of its possessor. The regal beauty and grace of Heather Flower was known far and wide, for yearly came the ambassadors from twelve minor Sagamores, bringing wampum with which to pay tribute to her father, Wyandance, and many were the tales told of the great king's comely daughter, and many a brave had longed to take back the Heather Flower to his lodge as his wife; but the fact that he was a vassal, bearing tribute, placed the beautiful princess beyond his ambition, and so it was that her suitors must be among the warriors of her own nation. The rivalry between two of these suitors for the hand of the king's daughter was, ere long, to end in a bloody tragedy that would cast a gloomy shadow across the sunlit path of Heather Flower. They were Mandush, a brave warrior and trusted lieutenant of Wyandance, and To-cus, some years the junior of Mandush, a typical Indian brave, bold, ambitious, impetuous and daring. Being favourites of Wyandance, and the companions in the chase of his son, Wyancombone, both Mandush and To-cus enjoyed the hospitalities of the Sachem's lodge to a greater extent, perhaps, than their fellows, if we except Poniute, who was the chieftain's confidential messenger, and oft-times his companion and attendant in his visits to the palefaces. Poniute's eagle eye guarded all the paths of Heather Flower, whom he loved in secret and worshipped at a distance. As a natural sequence, these young braves, enjoying the freedom of their master's lodge and the companionship of his only son, became the slaves of the young princess. It was upon the occasions of these visits that Mandush and To-cus, as opportunity offered, would make bold to proffer her some gallantry; that, seeing her seated upon her mat engaged in beadwork (the handicraft peculiar to the women of her race), the suitor would make bold to take his seat-not beside her, but at her back, the twain facing in opposite directions, according to the custom of Indian wooing; and if he chanced to have a branch of the sweet maple or the aromatic birch, he would pass it over his shoulder and to the lips of the maiden; if she chose to nibble at the offering he understood at once that he was an accepted suitor. Or, perchance, it might be a nosegay of fragrant flowers, or a spray of wintergreen with its spicy berries, which he brought as a medium to declare his love. More than once had the rivals proffered these tokens, which proved to be at least premature, 'if not presumptuous; for their attentions were received with an indifferent air, and neither of her suitors could boast that he was her recognised lover. Neither had dared to make a positive test by complying with certain conditions of etiquette customary with all the Indian tribes. In making love to a maiden, the lover must choose a favourable moment to lay his offering of fruit, flowers, or fragrant bark at the entrance to her wigwam, and must pass on, looking neither to the right nor left. If he is accepted, his offering, whatever it may be, will be appropriated by the maiden; but if he is rejected, his gift will remain where he left it until he returns and takes it away, and it is only after a lover is thus accepted and looked upon with favour by the parents that he is admitted to the lodge as a suitor. |