“When I have that big medicine thing I will be able to do anything,” Running Fox assured him.
The Mohawks devoted the balance of the day to sports and games, and at dark they gathered for the great feast of succotash, which was made of corn, beans and squashes. The food was cooked in large clay urns, or bowls, and each member of the tribe helped himself. Before the people began to eat, however, one of the medicine-men started a weird, melancholy chant, and in a few moments the entire tribe united in a mighty chorus. It was a song of thanks to the Great Spirit, for supplying their wants. At the end of the simple ceremony, the Mohawks proceeded to enjoy themselves. The Delawares looked on with envious eyes, for in spite of the hilarity and good-will which prevailed at the feast the Mohawks showed no intention of sending any of the food to their captives. “Perhaps this would be a good time to look for the medicine-bundle,” suggested Spotted Deer. “The Mohawks are all together in the middle of the camp, and there will be no one to see us.”
“No, we must not go now,” Running Fox told him. “If we leave this lodge they will know about It. When we go to look for the medicine-bundle we must know how we are going to get out of the camp.”
The Green Corn Festival continued through the three following days, and each night the feast was resumed. The last night, however, was largely given up to a number of sacred dances which the Delawares were not permitted to see. While the dances were in progress the lads were bound, and confined in their lodge. An aged warrior sat in the doorway to prevent them from looking out.
The following day the village was thrown into a turmoil by the return of several Mohawk hunters who said that a large war-party of Chippewas were approaching from the north. The Delawares learned the news from their friend, the son of the medicine-man. He said that the Mohawks expected the Chippewas to attack the village in revenge for the death of a number of Chippewa hunters whom the Mohawks had surprised and killed some time previously.
“Yes, there will be a big fight,” declared the Mohawk. “The Chippewas are very fierce, but my people will kill them. My friends, I warn you to be very careful what you do. If you try to get away, or try to help the Chippewas, you will surely be killed.”
The Delawares instantly realized the significance of his warning, and they determined to profit by it. They knew that it would be foolhardy to attempt to escape while the camp was besieged by enemies, for it was certain that the entrances and weak spots would be more closely guarded than ever. Besides, they had little doubt that if they should fall into the hands of the Chippewas the latter would mistake them for Mohawks, and kill them at once.
“This thing is bad for us,” said Running Fox. “If this fight goes against the Mohawks they will believe that we have brought bad fortune upon them, and perhaps they will kill us. If the Chippewas break into the village they will kill us for Mohawks. We must do what we can to show the Mohawks that we have nothing to do with it.”
The Delawares wisely remained in their lodge, therefore, while the Mohawks prepared for battle. Scouts were immediately sent out to locate the hostile war-party, while a great company of warriors assembled to defend the camp. Standing Wolf and a number of sub-chiefs and medicine-men hurried to the council-lodge.
“Now perhaps we will see how this great chief gets his power,” said Spotted Deer.