He understood at once what it meant. The last hour of life was come; and the dead, heavy sinking of the heart which the aspect of death suddenly presented to an unprepared and unexcited mind, was the first sensation. True, the door stood at a little distance, on his right hand, and they were at the other end of the hut, with no one between him and the means of egress; but he knew their swiftness of foot and deadly aim too well. It was better to stay and to meet the worst there, than to fall by the thrown tomahawk in inglorious flight. He rallied his spirits: he called all his courage to his aid: he bethought him of how an Indian would die, and resolved to die boldly and calmly likewise.
Sitting still in silence, he gazed over the countenances of the chiefs, scanning their stern, hard features thoughtfully. Only two were there whom he knew; Black Eagle himself, and an old man with a white scalp-lock, whom he recollected having comforted and supported once when he found him ill and exhausted near his father's house. The others were all strangers to him: and nothing could be read upon their faces but cold, rigid determination. No passion, no anger, no emotion, could be traced; but there was something inexpressibly dreadful in gazing on those still, quiet countenances, with a knowledge of the bloody purpose of the men. To have died in battle--to have struggled with them fiercely for life--would have been nothing; but to sit there, coldly awaiting the moment of the ruthless blow, and to know that they expected it to be borne with the same quiet, stoical apathy with which it was dealt, was very, very terrible to the young European.
Yet Walter tried to nerve himself to the utmost against any sign of fear; and strove for resolution not to disgrace himself, his name, and family, even in the opinion of those wild Indians. There must have been apprehension in his eyes--in the straining eagerness with which he scanned them; but there was no other mark of alarm: not a muscle moved; the lip did not quiver; the brow was not contracted.
At length, after that long, solemn pause, the voice of Black Eagle was heard speaking low and softly.
"My son, thou must die," he said. "Thou art dear to me as a child; thy father is my brother; but thou hast drawn an evil lot, and thou must die. The morning of thy days has been short and bright; the night comes for thee before the day is well begun. The blood of our brother who was slain must be atoned for by the blood of one of the race that slew him--the white man for the red man. We have sought in vain for the murderer of our brother, or for some one who might have been a substitute for him whom we love. Each man here would have perilled his own head to find another in thy place; but it could not be. The pale-faces took fright at the news of what had been done, and none has been found within our territory. We know that the man who did the deed has been here. We fancied that he had come generously to pay the penalty of his own act; but fear was in his heart, and twice he escaped us. He is as cunning as the fox, and as swift to flee. Now, O thou son of my brother! thou must die; for the time has gone by that was given thee in the hope of some deliverance: the hours have run swiftly and in vain; and the last has come. We know that it is the custom of thy people to sing no war-song at their death; but to pray to their Good Spirit to receive them speedily into the happy hunting-grounds. We shall not think it want of courage if thou prayest; for the son of our brother Prevost will not disgrace his name at his death. Pray, therefore, to thy God; thy prayer shall be as it were a war-song, and, strengthened by it, thou shalt die as a man and a warrior."
Walter remained silent for a moment, while a terrible struggle went on in his heart; but resolution conquered, and he rose from the ground on which he was sitting, erect and firm; and, stretching forth his hand, he said,--
"Chiefs of the Oneidas, you are unjust. At this hour of my death, I tell you, you know not equity. Your laws are not of the Good Spirit, but of the bad; for it is evil to kill an innocent man, black and dastardly to slay a helpless man who trusted you and loved you; and, if it is by your law you do it, your law is bad, and the Good Spirit will condemn it. My father came and planted his tree amongst you; we grew up,--my sister and myself,--loving and confiding in your people. We made your tongue our tongue; and my heart became one with the heart of the daughter of your chief. Lo, now, how ye repay kindness, and love, and truth, with falsehood, cruelty, and death! You are great warriors, but you are not good men. In this last hour, I reproach you; and I tell you, with the voice of a dying man, as with the voice of one from the land of spirits, that, sooner or later, the great God of all men will make you feel that you have done an evil thing in my death."
He paused suddenly; for his eyes, turning somewhat in the direction of the door, saw a female figure enter, wrapped in the peculiar blanket or mantle of the Indian women. Another and another entered; and one by one the shadowy forms ranged themselves in line along the side of the hut, their faces but faintly seen by the flickering firelight. They were all as silent as death; and there they stood as solemn witnesses of the dreadful scene about to be enacted.
The eyes of all the chiefs were turned in the same direction as his own, and a moment or two of wonder and embarrassment passed; but then the voice of Black Eagle was raised loudly and sternly, saying,--
"Get you home to the Castle, Oneida women. This is no place for you. Meddle not with the business of warriors and of men. Dare not to intrude upon the sacrifice of atonement for our brother's blood."