(Eleven of the elders seat themselves in a circle about the fire, turning toward the Chief. The others stand or sit attentively in the background. The Chief at the fire hands the ceremonial pipe to Yavi who lights it. Rain Wind blows a puff of smoke to all the gods, returning to his place in the Council; the pipe passes from hand to hand; when it has passed all about, each tribesman blowing smoke and saluting, the Chief rises and stands before the Chisera's hut.)
Chisera, Chisera, come to Council!
The Chisera
(Advancing to his side.) Rain Wind, Chief of Sagharawite, what will you have of me?
(Pamaquash lights the medicine fire.)
Chief
To carry a matter too hard for us before the Friend of the Soul of Man.
The Chisera
Nothing that men contrive in their hearts is too hard for the gods. Speak, then!
(Goes and sits beside the Chief.)