at if they allow sleep to deaden their
senses, the hatchet of the Blackbird will send them to sleep in the land
of spirits."

The two messengers set off, and soon returned to tell the chief that he
might rest satisfied that attention would be paid to his orders.
Indeed, stimulated at once by their own hatred of the whites, and by the
hope of a recompense--fearing if sleep surprised them, not so much the
threatened punishment as the idea of awaking in the hunting-grounds of
the land of spirits, bearing on their foreheads the mark of shame which
accompanies the sentinel who gives way to sleep--the sentinels had
redoubled their vigilance. There are few sounds that can escape the
marvellous ears of an Indian, but on this occasion the fog made it
difficult to hear as well as to see, and the strictest attention was
necessary. With closed eyes and open ears, and standing up to chase
away the heaviness that the silence of nature caused them to feel, the
Indian warriors stood motionless near their fires, throwing on on from
time to time some fagots to keep them ablaze.

Some time passed thus, during which the only sound heard was that of a
distant fall in the river.

The Blackbird remained on the left bank, and the night air, as it
inflamed his wounds, only excited his hatred the more. His face covered
with hideous paint, and contracted by the pain--of which he disdained to
make complaint--and his brilliant eyes, made him resemble one of the
sanguinary idols of barbarous times. Little by little, however, in
spite of himself, his eyes were weighed down by sleep, and an invincible
drowsiness took possession of his spirit. Before long his sleep became
so profound, that he did not hear the dry branches crackle under a
moccasin, as an Indian of his tribe advanced towards him.

Straight and motionless as a bamboo stem, an Indian runner covered with
blood and panting for breath, waited for some time until the chief,
before whom he stood, should open his eyes and interrogate him. As the
latter showed no signs of awaking, the runner resolved to announce his
presence, and in a hollow, guttural voice, said--

"When the Blackbird shall open his eyes, he will hear from my mouth
words which will chase sleep far from him."

The chief opened his eyes at the voice, and shook off his drowsiness
with a violent effort. Ashamed at having been surprised asleep, he
muttered:

"The Blackbird has lost much blood; he has lost so much that