Great drops of sweat ran down their faces, as they staggered about the square, locked in each other's arms. The ground was trodden into deep furrows, where they dug their moccasins into the soft earth. Both were now becoming weak from the long bout, and even while I looked the end came. Okisco, giving a shrill yell, threw all his bull strength into the effort, and with a fury nothing could withstand, bore the other to his knees. A loud cry went up from the crowd. At the sound, as though beside himself with rage, Chawanook sprang to his feet, and catching both hands around the waist of the triumphant Okisco, and bending his body with a power that seemed superhuman, he cast him backward upon the ground. With a proud gesture, Chawanook stood erect, the blood pouring from his nostrils as the result of his great effort. And now there tottered into the square an old feeble man, the eldest of the village. With his sunken face and dim eyes he looked as though he was ready for the grave. With a gesture he held up his hands, and silence fell upon the noisy throng. "My brothers," he said, "from the time of our fathers, when the mind of man runneth not to the contrary, it has been our custom that the oldest man of the village should at the feast of the sun present to the maiden who had danced the nimblest a belt of wampum; to the most valiant young brave a necklace." And he held up in his withered hand a blue wampum belt, and a necklace of blue stone of some strange pattern, but I was not near enough to discern them well. "The judges have decided that unto Winona, the daughter of Windango, should the belt belong, and unto the young brave Chawanook, the necklace. Step forth," he continued, "and receive them." And from the crowd I saw Winona and the warrior Chawanook come forward and receive the belt and necklace. As the maiden turned, and scanning the dark faces about her, moved rapidly down the ranks, I heard the murmur of the savage tongues about me. "To whom will she give the belt?" asked an old hag by my side. "I know not," said her companion. "Perhaps to the young Chawanook. They would make a brave pair," and she moved aside to let Winona, who was coming toward me, pass by. Too late I realized what was about to happen, and for her sake as well as my own I would have turned and fled, but the golden moment had passed; there was naught to do but to stand my ground.