"My brother is better than I am, his heart is better; he will pardon the weakness of a friend." "On one condition," said the hunter, laughing; "that Numank-Charake has no more secrets." "I promise you," continued the chief, in a low, sad tone; "what I have now to say is very terrible. But the friends of Numank-Charake must know all. Two moons had elapsed since I and Evening Dew had spoken. I had not been able to carry out my projects. One day I again met her near the ark of the first man. 'The chief has forgotten his promise,' she said. 'No,' I replied; 'tomorrow I will keep it.' I left her with only a few more words. Next day I began to carry out my promise. I prepared everything, even the usual ceremonies were carried out--those you know so well." "One moment," interrupted Oliver. "Bright-eye, brought up in your villages, knows all about them, but I, as a mere stranger, know not what you mean. As I mean to live with you, I should like to know a little." "My brother is right," said the chief; "I will tell him the whole expedition. Before starting, the turf was taken off a considerable square of earth, the mould being made soft and pliable with the hands. It was then surrounded by stakes. When all was ready I went in and sat at the end opposed to the direction in which the enemy lived. After singing and praying, I put on the edge of the open space two little white stones." "After waiting half an hour in prayer, asking the Wacondah to guide me right, the village crier, or hachesto, approached. I gave him my orders. He turned and invited all the great warriors to smoke; then in their turn the inferior warriors were invited. After all had smoked, everyone examined the result of the ko-sau-ban-zich-egass. The white stones had fallen in the direction of a well-known path." "And what was the result?" asked Bright-eye. "The Wacondah favoured his children. The path led towards the land of our hereditary foes, the Sioux of the West." "Good," said the hunter. "Our party consisted of a hundred and fifty warriors, the picked men of the nation, armed with guns. Every man carried the offerings to be cast away on the field of battle, and hidden, if possible, in the entrails of our foes." "A pious custom," said Bright-eye. Oliver looked at the Canadian, wondering whether he spoke seriously or not. But there was no doubt of his good faith.