The whites, at the conclusion of this burst of native eloquence, were visibly affected. The delivery was impassioned and clear. For the moment all seemed to be transfixed by the impressive character of the speech. James Greydon, however, walked up to the savage chieftain, shook him by the hand, saying: “Good, good, my friend,” and then escorted him by the arm to the tables. The whole assemblage arose and followed in order. When the Indians were all arranged by themselves on each side of the table, the sachem stepped to the head and gave thanks to the Great Spirit in loud and earnest tones by some word of their dialect which sounded to the European ear like “Wah, Wah,” and when he had finished, in no less earnest tones, the whole assembly of natives replied by words which sounded like “Swe, Swe.” At once thereafter the solemnity of the occasion was at an end. The Indians began to talk and laugh. The feast began.
In Indian fashion the natives sat on the ground and waited for the attendants to serve them with portions of everything on the table. The younger people, especially the squaws, would point at the different delicacies and dishes. One feature which attracted the notice and remarks of the entire deputation was a small pig, which had been stuffed and roasted, standing on all fours. At the other end was a large beaver, dressed and cooked in like manner. The center was embellished by placing a coon and a ’possum, dressed and cooked to a turn, which were standing on all fours and facing each other, as though they were ready to fight. These preparations of their own popular dishes immensely pleased the Indians. But when huge pewter mugs of cool ale were passed, then there was fun. The old men and warriors drank it with satisfaction. When the young people and women were urged to take a draught they would shrink from it at first, and when they had tasted it they would make wry faces at which all the others laughed. When the cakes and pies came around, however, the women looked at them curiously and ate them with enjoyment, for they were produced by an art of cookery unknown to the squaws.
The whole feast passed off gayly, yet modestly. An Indian abhors familiarity and vulgarity. The conversation was pleasant but never hilarious. They sat on the ground, Indian fashion, and ate with their hands and fingers, but, withal, there was no greediness. They were polite to each other and waited in silence for their turn to be served. Courtesy to each other is a cardinal practice and they respect the proprieties of intercourse between themselves on all occasions.
However, in a group under a tree by themselves were the chiefs and James Greydon and his white friends. The whites were eating like Indians, seated on the ground and joining in the pleasures of the feast. When everybody had eaten and had drunk all that was needed, Altamaha brought out a new pipe and filled it with tobacco from his pouch. He lighted the tobacco with his steel and flint. After taking several puffs of the smoke, he passed the pipe first to the white chief, James Greydon. Then after a few puffs, Greydon passed it to his white friends. The pipe was then passed to all the chiefs and sachems. After all the principal men of the tribes had smoked the pipe of friendship and peace, Altamaha took it to James Greydon, saying:
“Your brother gives you his pipe of friendship and peace. You must keep it and never again let it be used. Never let the fire be put out which Altamaha has kindled for you.”
Standing up, James Greydon took the pipe, saying in reply:
“My good friend: The most noble of his race is Altamaha. His pledge of friendship to me to-day shall never be broken. The pipe shall be a token to me and my children of the love of Altamaha and his people. His fire shall burn forever in my heart. But come, Altamaha, let us all be merry. Let the young men dance. Our white friends will be pleased.”
At a sign for the dance, the great sachem, Pisquagon, stepped out into an open space on the lawn and began to shake his shell rattles and let out some vocal gyrations. The young men and women applauded by screeching and clapping of hands. The whole concourse gathered around Pisquagon and in unison joined in his chant:
“Yo! ho! ha! ha!—
“Yo! ho! ha! ha!—