Nelatu, stunned by the suddenness of the event, hid his face in his hands, and gave way to lamentation and tears.
That evening the remains of their chief were interred in a temporary grave, around which the warriors of the tribe, by their own consent now commanded by Wacora, joined in an oath of sure and ample vengeance. Coupled with their oath was the declaration that war and rapine should not cease until the hill was again their own, and the body of their beloved chief laid peacefully beside the bones of his ancestors.
That night the red pole was erected in their encampment, and under the glare of pine torches was performed around it the fearful scalp-dances of the tribe.
The white sentinels upon the hill saw afar off the fiendlike performance, and, as around echoed in their ears their wild shriek, they turned trembling from the hill, and cursed Elias Rody!
Chapter Twenty One.
Wacora Chosen Chief.
Wacora was unanimously elected war chief of the tribe over which his uncle had long ruled. Nelatu’s claims were so slight, his ability so deficient, that not one of the warriors wished to nominate him for the important position.
To Wacora the honour was of inestimable value. By its means there was now a hope for the realisation of his long-cherished dream—the redemption of the red-man by the union of all the tribes into one powerful nation.