Chief
The chief commands it.
Seegooche
(Cringingly.) No. No. Chisera, mind him not! He is not himself, the hunger and the loss of battle do distress him. We beg of you, we implore you, Chisera—we will bring gifts to you—gifts, Chisera. (She looks about despairingly for a suitable gift, snatches a great rope of beads from the Chief's neck and drops it in the Chisera's lap.) Spoil of our enemies when the war is over, and this to keep as a reminder—So—if only you will persuade the gods to friend us.
The Chisera
(Lifting the collar and letting it fall.) And if I will not?
(Still with her eyes on the Chief, ignoring Seegooche.)
Chief
Chisera, I am an old man, and I knew your father. We had much good talk together—I am very old—but I am not blind in my judgment as I am in my eyes. In war-time there is but one law for those faithless to the tribal obligation. You know it.
The Chisera