A piece of the fearful flesh was even given to the pale-face girl's attendant, with orders that she must make her charge partake thereof.
The girl was spared this terrible ordeal, however.
But long after midnight the revelry and the wild music went on, then ceased, and all was still.
The unhappy prisoner lay listening till sleep stole down on a star-ray and wafted her off to the land of sweet forgetfulness.
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Next day, amidst wild unearthly clamour and music, she was led from the tent and seated on the throne. Garments of otter skins and crimson cloth were cast on the throne and draped over the beautiful child. She was encircled with flowers of rarest hue, and emu's feathers were stuck, plume-like, in her bonnie hair.
Meanwhile the trumpets blared more loudly, and the tom-toms were struck with treble force, then all ceased at once, and there was a silence deep as death, as everyone prostrated himself or herself before the newly-made young queen.
Kaloomah rose at last, and advanced with bended back and head towards her, and with an intuitive sense of her new-born dignity she touched him gently on the shoulder and bade him stand erect.
He did so, and then placed in her hand the sceptre of the dead queen--the poison-tipped spear.
Whatever might happen now, the girl knew that she was safe for a time, and her spirits rose in consequence.