l shame for the son of his adoption.'

'I know it, my brave Henrich,' said the old Chief, 'I know that the
honor of Tisquantum's race is safe in your hands; and that you will
fight in defence of my ancient friends and allies, even as I would have
fought in the days of my young strength. Come away, now; my warriors
must prepare to go with the messenger of the great Sassacus. No time
must be lost in giving him the aid he asks; and you, my son, will be
ready by to-morrow's dawn to lead them on their way. I cannot go with
you, for these feeble limbs are unfit to travel at the speed with which
you must cross the forests and the plains; neither could the women and
children bear it. We will follow the course that we designed to take,
and go to the land of my fathers in the far east; and there we will
wait for our victorious warriors.'

As Tisquantum said this, he left the hall of council, which consisted
of a shadowing maple tree, and led his companion to the hut of boughs,
in which Oriana and Mailah sat anxiously awaiting the result of the
conference. They did not regret when they heard that their husbands
were to hasten to the scene of war, for they were Indian women, and
could glory in the deeds of their warriors. But when they were informed
that the main body of the tribe was to pursue the intended route
towards Paomet,[*] their grief and disappointment were very great.

[Footnote: Cape Cod]

'Must I leave you, Henrich?' exclaimed Oriana. 'Must I know that you
are in the battle-field; and wounded perhaps, and wanting my aid, and I
far away? Let me go with you! You know that Oriana can bear danger, and
fatigue, and hardship; and with you there would be no danger.'

'It cannot be,' replied Henrich, gently but decidedly. 'Your father
cannot travel, as we must do, with no respite or repose; and you, my
Oriana, could not leave him and our boy. You must go with them to
Paomet, my love; and prepare a home for me after the fight is done. The
camp of the fierce Pequodees is no place for you.'

Oriana felt that her husband was right; and she said no more. But she
did not the less sorrowfully assist him in his preparations for the
journey and the battle, or feel less keenly the grief of separation
when, at daybreak on the following morning, he and his warriors were
ready to set out.

'My son,' said Tisquantum, as he grasped the hand of Henrich, 'I have
one request--I would rather say command--to impress upon you before we
pa