The two companies draw near to each other, and while the priests are chanting in doleful notes petitionary and sacrificial hymns, and the warriors are lustily singing songs of victory, the whole camp is hushed in silent expectation as to the outcome. The warriors know the issue lies with them, and carry themselves accordingly. In all the pride and pomp of martial dignity and costume they sit their picked steeds and await the priest's action. This personage is now almost unnerved. The long vigils and fastings and hardships have emaciated his body, and this is weak; but his communings with the spiritual have made him feel that he has a mission, and that he is essential to the well-being of his people. He has grown within the last few days to believe he is an apostle and a bringer of good, and in his mind he feels these warriors must in their own interest accept him. Nevertheless there is the possibility of their not doing so. No messenger has reached him from the secret conclave held yonder behind the hills. Soon he will know. And now he pulls himself together, and, at first with quavering voice and trembling limbs, he holds the sacred pipe aloft and prays. Immediately in front of him is the chosen chief of the warriors, who gives no indication of what he is going to do in this matter. In silence he and the entire assemblage listen as the aspirant for priestly honors seems to forget himself in the intenseness of his purpose. His voice gathers strength, his limbs cease to tremble, and with native and pure eloquence he calls upon the Deity to bless this gathering, to pity his children, to accept their sacrifices, to smile upon their effort. His metaphors are beautiful, his similes are fine; the range of his thought reaches the heavens above and covers the earth beneath. There is a spell that accompanies the prayer. His whole soul is in it. If you and I had been there, my reader friend, we would have seen the countenance of the warrior chief undergo a change. Fence as he will, he is caught, and as we look we say to ourselves, "He will accept the sacred pipe." And presently as the priest stops he steps forward, and with a majestic wave upward and downward and all around, he hands the sacred emblem to the warrior. While the crowd watch him in breathless expectancy the latter takes it from him, also lifts it heavenward and then earthward, and then all around the complete circle, and the air rings with joyous acclamations. The feast is to take place, and the time is now.