Ticonderoga: A Story of Early Frontier Life in the Mohawk Valley

by G. P. R. James

When Otaitsa approached the door she found it fastened, and she knocked twice with her hand before it was opened. A young girl then peeped out, and seeing the sachem's daughter, gave her admission at once into the outer apartment. The space on the outer side of the large mat which formed the partition was vacant, but there was a murmur of voices coming from the division beyond, and a light shone through the crevices between the mat and the wall.

The feelings of Otaitsa's heart were too powerful to leave any timidity in her bosom, and although she shared in some degree the feelings of awe with which the other Oneidas regarded the Gray Dove, she advanced at once, drew back the corner of the mat, and entered the chamber beyond. The scene was neither of a very beautiful nor of a very solemn character, but nevertheless there was something very striking in it. Seated around a large fire in the middle were a number of the elder women of the tribe, whose faces and forms, once, perhaps, fair and lovely, had lost almost every trace of beauty. But their features were strongly marked, and had in many instances a stern and almost fierce expression. Their eyes, jetty black, and in most cases as brilliant as in early youth, shone in the light of the fire like diamonds, and in many an attitude and gesture appeared much of that grace which lingers longer with people accustomed to a free and unconfined life than with those of rigid and conventional habits.

Outside of the first and elder circle sat a number of the younger women, from fifteen or sixteen years of age up to five or six and twenty. Many of them were exceedingly beautiful, but the figures of their elder companions shaded them mostly from the glare of the fire, and it was only here and there that one of those countenances could be discovered which offer in many of the Indian tribes fit models for painter or sculptor. Seated, not on the ground, like the rest, but on a small settle at the farther side of the inner circle, appeared Black Eagle's sister, gorgeously dressed, almost entirely in crimson, with armlets and bracelets of gold, and innumerable glittering ornaments round her neck. She was much older than her brother, and her hair, almost as white as snow, was knotted up behind on the ordinary roller, without any decoration. Her features were aquiline, and much more prominent than those of Black Eagle, and her eyes were still keen and bright. The moment they lighted upon Otaitsa, the exclamation burst from her lips: "She is come! The Great Spirit has sent her! Stand there in the midst, Blossom, and hear what we have resolved."

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 emotions.

"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 Gray Dove to say to the daughter of her brother?"

"The boy must not die," said 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 stern and lofty determination written on every countenance.

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 the task: Thou shalt watch eagerly as a fox upon the hillside, and bring word to me of the exact day and hour when the sacrifice is to be offered. Everyone 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."