had come back, but he was far too wise to attempt
escape. His hands were bound behind him, and he would have no chance
with such woodsmen. He must bide his time, and he marched without
protest.

When they had gone about a mile all stopped at a signal from White
Lightning. The chief dropped back to a subordinate place in the line,
although his was still the air and actual manner of command, and his
place at the head of the file was taken by a heavy, middle-aged warrior
who carried at his belt one of the hideous trophies at which Henry would
not look. But he understood Indian custom well enough to know the cause
of this change. The middle-aged warrior had taken the first scalp in
battle, and therefore it was his honor to lead the party back in triumph
to their village or camp.

White Lightning remained but a moment or two in his place. Then he
stepped forth, while the others stood rigid, and drew a medicine bag
from beneath the folds of his blanket. He held the bag for a moment
poised in his hand, as if it were a sacred object, which, in fact, it
was to the Wyandots, while the warriors regarded it with reverential
eyes.

Then every warrior took his totem from some secure place next to his
body where it had been tied. The totems were small objects various in
kind, such as the skin of a snake, a piece of the tail of a buffalo, a
part of the horn of a buck, or a little packet of feathers. But every
totem was sacred, and it was handled with worshipful care. The chief put
them one by one into the medicine bag, which he handed to the temporary
leader, the first scalp-taker, who would bear it in triumph home.

Henry watched the proceeding with interested eyes. He knew the Indian
way. In his early captivity he had seen the entire rite, which was
practically sacred. He knew that before these Wyandots had started on
the war-path every man had put his totem in the bag, and then White
Lightning had carried it bound securely to his body. Whenever they
halted the bag was laid down in front, and no one might pass it. The
warriors, now on the war-path, were not allowed to talk of home, wife,
or sweetheart, lest it weaken their hearts and turn them to water. When
they camped at night the heart of whatever animal they had killed in the
course of the day was cut into small pieces and burned. During the
burning no man was allowed to step across the fire, but must walk around
it in the direction of the sun. When they laid the ambush, and