"My master must have a sacrifice, he must smell blood," said the ugly old man. "Then we shall know if he will give you revenge. Go in the morning to the woods, and take a wolf, a rattlesnake, and a tortoise, and bring them to me at the mouth of the cave, when the great star of day is coming out of the Suwaney."
The Old Eagle, and the other chiefs and warriors who asked revenge, did as Sketupah bade them. They went to the woods, and took a wolf, a tortoise, and a rattlesnake, and brought them, the wolf growling, the snake hissing, and the tortoise snapping his teeth, to the priest.
He bade them build a fire of pine, and the tree which bears poisonous flowers[11], and the hemlock, and the grape-vine which bears no fruit. They did as he bade them, and made the fire flame high. Then Sketupah prepared the sacrifice. First he skinned the wolf, then he shelled the tortoise. He bound the wolf's skin upon himself with the snake, and with his entrails he fastened the shell of the tortoise upon his head. Then he laid the carcasses of the wolf, and the snake and the tortoise, upon the fire, and danced around it, while he sang to his master the following song:—
Song of Sketupah.
We have slain the beasts:—
The hissing snake, with poisonous fangs;
The wolf, whose teeth are red with Indian blood;
And the creeping tortoise, the dweller in deep fens;
We have slain them.
Lo! they are laid on hissing coals:
Wilt thou come, Spirit of Evil, and claim thine own?
The sons of the Shawanos lie low,
Far from the burial-place of their fathers;
Red wounds are on their breasts,
Cold and stiff are their limbs;
Their eyes see not the ways of men,
Nor the rising or setting of the great star,
Nor the blooming of spring-flowers,
Nor the glad glances of young maidens:
They sleep in the vale of death.
They fell, and no revenge,
No torments of foes, appease them in the land of spirits;
No shoutings of brother warriors
Gladden their shades;
The camp of their nation is mute;
They are forgotten by their women;
The bright eyes of their maidens
Have no tears in them:
They sleep forgotten by all.
Shall they have no revenge?
Shall we not plant the stake, and bind the fair-one?
The beautiful maid, with her hair like bunches of grapes,
And her eyes like the blue sky,
And her skin white as the blossoms of the forest-tree,
And her voice as the music of a little stream?
Shall she not be torn with sharp thorns,
And burned in fiery flames?
He ceased singing, and listened, but the Evil Spirit answered not. Just as he was going to begin another song, they saw a large ball rolling very fast up the hill towards the spot where they stood. It was the height of a man. When it came up to them it began to unwind itself slowly until at last a little strange-looking man crept out of the ball, which was made of his own hair. He was no higher than my shoulders. One of his feet made a strange track, the like of which the Indians had never seen before. His face was as black as the shell of the butter-nut, or the feathers of the raven, and his eyes as green as grass. And stranger yet was his hair, for it was of the colour of moss, and so long that, as the wind blew it out, it seemed the tail of a fiery star. There he stood, grinning and laughing very loud. "What do you want of me?" he asked Sketupah.
The priest answered, "The Shawanos want revenge. They want to sacrifice the beautiful daughter of the sun, whom the Mad Buffalo has brought from the camp of the Walkullas."
"They shall have their wish," said the Evil Spirit. "She shall be sacrificed. Go and fetch her to the hill."