They willingly obeyed the summons of the “great Onas,” as they called
the white chief who had completely won their hearts, while the distant
tribes who had never seen Penn in person were most curious to behold
this paleface of whom they had heard so much and who must be so
different from any other of whom they had ever heard. They arrived in
bands, in their picturesque garb, the skin of some animal or a handwoven
blanket wrapped about the upper part of their bodies, which were marked
with strange signs and painted in the most brilliant colors, their feet
enclosed in leather moccasins, making possible a light and perfectly
noiseless tread, their heads adorned with the huge war bonnets of
many-colored feathers. All the great chiefs were present, among them the
wise old Tamemund, most distinguished of all. Penn, now in the prime of
manhood, was handsomely dressed in European fashion to receive his
Indian friends. The long coat with its rows of shining buttons and lace
ruffles falling from the wrists fitted smoothly over his tall,
well-built frame and half covered the slashed knee breeches. He wore,
according to the custom of the time, a long curled wig on which rested a
plain beaver hat. As he stood there calm and dignified, as became a
great leader, surrounded by a few of his closest friends, among whom was
Colonel Markham, already known to most of the Indians, the kindness and
benevolence that shone in his dark eyes could not but win the confidence
of these simple children of the forest.
After the pipe of peace had been passed around the circle, Tamemund
arose and placed on his head a sort of crown, or wreath, to which was
attached a small horn. This was to signify that the spot as well as the
company was now consecrated, so to speak, and the conference could
proceed. He then seated himself again, surrounded by the oldest and most
renowned chiefs of tribes, the warriors forming a semi-circle behind
them, while the youths who had not yet attained the dignity of braves
ranged themselves in the background. Tamemund now announced that his
children were ready to listen to the great Onas.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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