Otaitsa passed between two of the younger and two of the elder women, taking her place between the inner circle and the fire; and wonderfully bright and beautiful did she look, with the flame flashing upon her exquisite form and delicate features, and lighting up a countenance full of strong enthusiasm and pure emotion.
"Thy child hears thy words," she said, without pause or hesitation; for it must be remarked that the stoical gravity which prevailed at the conferences of the chiefs and warriors was not thought necessary among the women of the tribes. "What has the Grey Dove to say to the daughter of her brother?"
"The boy must not die!" exclaimed the old woman, in a firm and decided tone. "It is not the will of the Great Spirit; or, if he die, there shall be wailing in every lodge, and mourning amongst the children of the Stone. Art thou willing, Otaitsa, child of the Black Eagle, daughter of the Flower of the East, to do as we do, and to obey my voice?"
Otaitsa gazed round the circle, and saw a stern and lofty determination written on every countenance. Her own heart was not one to quail at any undertaking, known or unknown; and the only thing which could have deterred her from taking the pledge proposed, was the spirit of Christianity. But it must not be supposed that the Christianity of the Indian girl, notwithstanding all the labours of her missionary friend, was pure and unmixed with the characteristics of her people. All the daily habits of life, all that she saw, all that she heard around her, mingled the notions and the feelings of the Indian with the doctrines and the sentiments of the Christian. The first impulse was always Indian; the rectifying principle nearly Christian.
After gazing round them for an instant, she answered, "I am; I will do what thou sayest to save him, even unto death."
"She has said!" cried the old woman. "Now then, Blossom, this is thy task; thou shalt watch eagerly as a fox upon the hill-side, and bring word to me of the exact day and hour when the sacrifice is to be offered. Every one must watch."
"But how shall I discover?" asked Otaitsa. "The warriors tell not their secrets to women. The Black Eagle hides his thoughts from his daughter; he covers his face with a cloud, and wraps his purposes in shadows from our eyes."
"By little signs shalt thou know," returned the Grey Dove. "Small clouds prognosticate great storms. When thou seest any change, mark it well. If his head droops, and his eye seeks the ground more than common, bring or send the tidings unto me. If he be silent when he should speak, and hears not the words thou utterest--if he gazes up to the heaven as if he were seeking to know the changes of the weather, when all is clear--and if he looks at the tomahawk as it hangs upon the beam, with a dull and heavy eye--be sure the time is coming."
Otaitsa gave a wild start, and exclaimed,--
"Then it is this night! for all the signs you mention have been present. When I entered the lodge, his head was bowed down, and his eyes were fixed upon the ground. He was very sad. He heard me; but his thoughts seemed to wander. When he stopped my petition, and turned towards the door, his eyes rested gloomily on the hatchet; and when he stood without, they were lifted to the sky, as if looking for stars in the daytime. It is to-night! it is to-night! Oh, what shall be done?"