But not so with the biters. They were young, and they had plotted on this night to begin hostilities against the settlers. Their plan had been to burn the log school-house and the house of the Woodses, and to make a captive of Mrs. Woods, whose hostile spirit they wished to break and punish. Soon after the quiet scene at midnight they began to be restless. Their cries arose here and there about the margin of the plateau and along the river.
The old chief knew their feelings, and saw the stormy ripples here and there. He arose slowly, and called:
"My people, draw near."
The tribe gathered about the platform. The young braves knew what the old chief was about to say, and their cries of discontent grew loud and multiplied.
"The log school-house!" shrieked one, in a voice of rage.
"Pil-pil!" cried another. "Pil-pil!" echoed many voices. A tumult followed, and Gretchen started up from her reverie, and heard among the restless murmurs the name of Mrs. Woods.
She felt a nervous terror for a moment, but her spiritual sense and faith, which had come to her like a new-born life, returned to her.
She arose on the platform and took her violin, and looked down upon the sea of dusky faces in the smoky moonlight. She drew her bow. The music quivered. There was a lull in the excited voices. She played low, and there followed a silence.
The old chief came heavily up on the platform with a troubled face and stood beside her.
"Play the beautiful air." She played the Traumerei again.