At the completion of the chief’s speech, which was received with grunts of approval, two Indians approached Boone, who stood in the centre of the chamber, and with pigments of various hues proceeded to paint his head and face after the most approved fashion. This was the final step in the ceremony. Boone was now a full-blown Shawnee, and his fellow-tribesmen crowded round to congratulate him. A big feast was now spread. After they had eaten heartily, pipes were lit and the company sat smoking and talking far into the night. Boone’s natural dignity and habitual self-control enabled him to adapt himself to his new rôle with ease, and before the gathering broke up the warriors had begun to look upon him as a kindred spirit and boon companion. The town of which Boone was now an inhabitant under the name of Sheltowee, or “Big Turtle,” was situated on the banks of the Little Miami River. The buildings were ranged round a great square which, like the market-place of a country town, was the common resort of loungers and the general rendezvous of the community. Here they performed their ceremonial dances, erected the war-post, celebrated victory or bemoaned defeat, indulged in various sports, including the torture of prisoners, divided spoils, held mass-meetings, and in short gathered for any purpose of general interest. The council-house was the principal building in the town. It stood on somewhat elevated ground at the northern end of the square and was constructed of logs in part painted and carved. The roof was finished with slabs of bark and the interior furnished with mats and the skins of various animals. A platform, raised to the height of about two feet, ran round three sides of the wall, leaving a sort of pit in the centre. Upon this platform the warriors squatted on the occasions of councils, the receptions of delegations from other tribes, or deliberations on the fate of prisoners; the visitors, or captives, occupying the central and less elevated space. The cabins of the population, which numbered about six hundred, were of a permanent character and not unlike those of the poorer class of settlers in form. Scattered about amongst them were corn-cribs, poultry-houses and dug-outs. The last were by the Indians called “hot-houses,” and consisted of holes in the ground to which the people resorted in particularly severe weather. Boone, or “Sheltowee,” as the Indians now always called him, was assigned to lodgings in a small hut with two young braves for companions. The accommodations were far from what he could have desired, but they were as good as those enjoyed by the chief, his adoptive father, and he accepted them with his usual philosophy. Accustomed to fresh air in abundance, Boone found the close and foul atmosphere of the wigwam almost intolerable. The place was often filled with acrid smoke and always infested by insects. How filthy it was he could only guess, for the light of day never penetrated to its interior.