The stillness of death pervaded the great lodge of the Oneidas, and yet it was not vacant. But Black Eagle sat in the outer chamber alone. With no eye to see him, with none to mark the traces of those emotions which the Indian so carefully conceals from observation, he gave way, in a degree, at least, to feelings which, however sternly hidden from others, wrought powerfully in his own heart. His bright blue and scarlet apparel, feathers and belt, medals and armlets, were thrown aside, and with his head bowed, his face full of gloomy sadness, and all the strong muscles of his beautifully proportioned figure relaxed, he sat like an exquisite figure sculptured in porphyry. No tear, indeed, bedewed his eyelids; no sigh escaped his lips; but the very attitude bespoke sorrow, and there was something awfully sad in the perfect, unvarying stillness of his form.
Oh! what a terrible strife was going on within! Grief is ten times more terrible to those who concentrate it in the heart than to those who pour it forth upon the wide air.
The door of the lodge opened. He started, and instantly was himself again; the head upright, the face clear, the aspect calm and dignified.
"Where hast thou been, my child?" asked the chief, gazing on his daughter as she entered, with feeling mingled of a thousand strong emotions--parental love, fond admiration, and manifold memories.
"Where thou hast permitted me to go, my father," she answered, with a smile so bland and sweet that a momentary suspicion crossed her father's mind.
"Thou hast not forgot thy promise, my Blossom?" he said, in a tone as stern as he ever used to her.
"Oh, no, my father," answered Otaitsa; "didst thou ever know me to do so? To see him--to be with him in his long captivity--to move the rock between us, and to let some light into his dark lodge. I promised, if thou wouldst let me stay with him a few short hours each day, I would do naught, try naught for his escape. Otaitsa has not a double tongue for her own father. Is Black Eagle's eye dim, that it cannot see his child's heart? Her heart is in his hand."
"How fares the boy?" asked her father. "Is there sunshine with him, or a cloud?"
"Sunshine," said Otaitsa, simply. "He sat and talked of death. It must be very happy."
The chief gazed at her silently for a few moments, and then asked: "Does he think so, too?"