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:

"Brothers and warriors! our sons did very wrong when they broke in upon
the sacred dance the Walkullas had made to their god, upon the coming in
of the new corn, and he lent his thunder to the strange warriors, and
they killed ours easily. Let us not draw down his anger farther upon us
by doing we know not what. It may be if we offer this woman upon his
fire, he will himself come with his thunder and strike us, as he did the
sacred tree, and we shall all die. Let the beautiful woman remain this
night in the wigwam of the council, covered with skins, and let none
disturb her. To-morrow we will offer a sacrifice of deer's flesh to the
Great Spirit; and, if he will not give h