And now they raised a loud chant, and with waving branches began a marvelous dance, now advancing, now retreating, winding in and out among each other to the sound of their voices. Slowly forward they moved toward the other end of the square, their merry, laughing faces making a pretty picture against the black background of the night. Their clear voices arose upon the air like the sound of some wild strains of barbaric music. Faster and faster they turned, until they only seemed one dark mass of moving figures, twisting in and out among one another. The wreaths had fallen from their heads in the rapidity of their motion, and they trampled upon them unheeded, as they whirled by. From the words that I could catch, it seemed a wild invocation to the Sun God to send them peace and plenty, and that their braves might triumph over all the enemies of the Cherokees. I looked in vain among the throng for Winona, but the figures moved by so quickly that I could not discern her face among the many dark heads that glided past. Faster, faster, faster they moved; several had fallen in exhaustion, and the old crones, who stood on the outskirts of the crowd, had rushed in and dragged them out of the rush. Their companions still danced on; it seemed to me as though they must all be weak from exhaustion by this time, but still they kept up their mad pace until, with one loud cry, they halted and stood still. A chorus of cries and loud "ughs" of approval from the bystanders arose. They had danced well. And now into the ring rushed the young braves, stripped to the breech cloth, their bronze bodies shining in the light. They caught each other around the waist, and tugged and strained, each seeking to cast his antagonist to the ground. For many minutes they wrestled, their chests heaving, as with every muscle strained they exerted themselves to the utmost. The warriors and squaws looked on, delight pictured upon their faces. Now and then a deep-chested "ugh" would go up, as some brawny brave would cast another upon the ground, and the defeated one would withdraw, leaving the victorious wrestlers to struggle among themselves. The braves thinned slowly but steadily; finally only two were left in the arena, the warrior Chawanook, and another lusty Indian, called Okisco. An instant they stood facing each other, then slowly, cautiously, like cats, they moved about, each seeking for an opportunity to catch the other unawares. Finally, with a dull crash they came together. Okisco had caught Chawanook under the arm pits, and with bent body was endeavoring to bear him down, while his antagonist, his toes dug deep in the sand, was steadily resisting every effort the other made to throw him.