ed it now to the sun and
now to the earth, made it dance from mouth to mouth along the lines of
spectators, with all its fluttering plumes spread. The hazy sun shone
slanting among branches, tracing a network of flickering leaf shadows
on short grass; and liquid young voices rising and falling chanted,

"Nanahani, nanahani, nanahani, Naniango!"

[Illustration: Stone Hatchet.]

The singers were joined by the Indian drum; and at that another dancer
sprang into the circle and took the weapons from the mat to fight with
the principal dancer, who had no defense but the calumet. With measured
steps and a floating motion of the body the two advanced and attacked,
parried and retreated, until the man with the pipe drove his enemy from
the ring. Papooses of a dark brick-red color watched with glistening
black eyes the last part of the dance, which celebrated victory. The
names of nations fought, the prisoners taken, and all the trophies
brought home were paraded by means of the calumet.

The chief presented the dancer with a fine fur robe when he ended; and,
taking the calumet from his hand, gave it to an old man in the circle.
This one passed it to the next, and so it went around the huge ring
until all had held it. Then the chief approached the white men.

"Blackgown," he said, "and you, Frenchman, I give you this peace-pipe
to be your safeguard wherever you go among the tribes. It shall be
feathered with white plumes, and displaying it you may march fearlessly
among enemies. It has power of life and death, and honor is paid to it
as to a manitou. Blackgown, I give you this calumet in token of peace
between your governor and the Illinois, and to remind you of your
promise to come again and instruct us in your religion."

The explorers slept soundly all night in the chief's lodge, feeling as
safe as among Christian Indians of the north, who stuck thorns in a
calendar to mark Sundays and holy days. Next morning the chief went with
several hundred of his people to escort them to their canoes; but it
was three o'clock in the afternoon before the voyageurs, dropping down
stream, saw the last of the friendly tribe.

Day after day the boats moved on without meeting other inhabitants.
Mulberries, persimmons, and hazelnuts were found on the shores. They
passed the mouth of the Illinois River without knowing its name, or
that it flowed through lands owned by the tribe that had given them
the peace-pipe. Farther on, the Missis