“There is a smart rise in the river at this time, and they may have gone into it; now, Earth, if the entrance be no larger than you say, can we not keep them in, and starve them into our own terms?” “No; that is impossible, the rock rises straight up from the river, and there is no chance to get a foothold, besides there are some stories told of the Shawanees and that cave, which I don't even like to think of. But come, another time we will talk of this, for the present be quiet;” and they mutually sunk into a meditative silence which was first interrupted by a glare of light, accompanied with the wild revelry of savage triumph. Jumping up, they gazed around them on every side, yet nothing could they see; still the revelry continued. Again, and again they searched, but without effect, until Earthquake looking far above him on the opposite bank, beheld the cause, and calling the attention of Rolfe, he merely pointed his finger; not a word was spoken, but in silence they gazed with eyes riveted on the spot. Nothing could be more striking than the scene before them. Lighted up by the glare of torches, which gave to the surrounding objects a darker hue, stood forth in bold relief a bare ledge of lofty rocks, upon whose summit were seen carousing a band of Indian warriors warm with slaughter, while several hundred feet beneath them, swept along the most beautiful and gentle river in the world. Although separated by the stream, the fire threw abroad so bright a light, that to the hunters every object was distinctly visible. As the revelry continued, wild with ecstasy, the Indians were seen to pass round the scalps and examine each with many a jest. They then rose, and forming themselves into a line, commenced a war dance, merely following each other with measured steps in a slow trot within a circle, while at the same time they sang a wild melody narrating the events of the evening, which translated might run as follows:— “Red, red, is my hatchet, The long knives have gone home; Red men, yes red men, The pale face is laid low. Then pass round the scalps, And loud let us yell The cry which will tell our friends We are avenged. They come across the big lake, They say we are friends, They get strong, they rise up, They take away our lands. Then pass round the scalps, And loud let us yell The cry which will tell our friends We are avenged. And never while sun shines, Or river runs here, Will we bury the hatchet, Till the long knives are gone. Then pass round the scalps, And loud let us yell The cry which will tell our friends We are avenged.