"Fathers, they are dead," answered the head warrior. "The Mad Buffalo has said they are dead, and he never lies. But let my fathers take comfort. Who can live for ever? The foot of the swift step, and the hand of the stout bow, become feeble; the eye of the true aim grows dim, and the heart of many days quails at the fierce glance of warriors. 'Twas better that they should die like brave men in their youth, than become old men and grow faint." "We must have revenge. We will not listen to the young warrior, who pines for the daughter of the sun[A]; revenge we will have!" they all cried. Then they began to sing a very mournful song, still weeping. The Mad Buffalo offered them the pipe of peace, but they would not take it. [Footnote A: "Daughter of the Sun."--See the Tradition _infra_.] Song. Where are our sons, Who went to drink the blood of their foes? Who went forth to war and slaughter, Armed with tough bows and sharp arrows? Who carried long spears, and were nimble of foot As the swift buck, and feared nothing but shame? Who crossed deep rivers, and swam lakes, And went to war against the Walkullas? Ask the eagle--he can tell you: He says, "My beak is red as the red leaf, And the blood of the slain of your land has dyed it." Ask the panther if he is hungry? "No," he shall say; "I have been at a feast." What has he in his mouth? Look! it is the arm of a Shawanos warrior! Why do our old men weep, And our women, and our daughters, and our little ones? Is it for the warriors who went forth to battle? Is it for them who went forth in glory, And fell like the leaves of the tree in autumn? Is it for them? What doth the Indian love?--Revenge. What doth he fight for?--Revenge. What doth he pray for?--Revenge. It is sweet as the flesh of a young bear; For this he goes hungry, roaming the desert, Living on berries, or chewing the rough bark Of the oak, and drinking the slimy pool. Revenged we must be. Behold the victim! Beautiful she is as the stars, Or the trees with great white flowers. Let us give her to the Great Spirit; Let us make a fire, and offer her for our sons, That we may have success against the Walkullas, And revenge us for our sons. When the strange woman saw them weeping and singing so mournfully, she crept close to the head warrior for protection. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she often looked up to the house of the Great Spirit, and talked; but none could understand her, save Chenos, who said she was praying to her god. All the time, the Old Eagle, and the other warriors, who had lost their sons, were begging very hard that she should be burned to revenge them. But Chenos stood up, and said: