At length Acashee stopped her weary pacing to and fro, and leaned with folded arms against a massive stalactite, and eyed the consulting chiefs in silence; but as they planned, discussed and advised, she was called upon to participate in their deliberations, and her suggestions were often hailed with tokens of approval; for the woman was of a keen and penetrating mind, stimulated by passions at once powerful and malevolent.
Had the party observed the white occupant of the sumptuous couch, they would have been aware of a pair of dark, bright eyes peering through those snowy locks, and red lips parted in the eagerness of the intent ear.
“Has the scout arrived?” asked Acashee.
“Fleet-foot has returned, and the Sacos are coming to reclaim tribute of the Androscoggins.”
“When will the Sacos be upon the trail?”
“They are already on their way; they have landed at the meeting of the waters.”
“Why await their coming? Why sit here and invite the tomahawk and the brand? Give me the war-club of a chief, and I will teach them what it is to follow the trail of the Androscoggin!”
The fierce fervor of the woman was not lost upon the council of chiefs, but they replied, gravely:
“Listen, daughter of Samoset! Thou shalt wear the eagle-plume, for thy courage and thy wisdom are becoming to a chief.”
“When arrived the Sacos at the meeting of the rivers?” asked Acashee.