“When the white chief would have it, it shall be No!”
A cry of approbation from every warrior present greeted this patriotic speech.
Hastening forward, they pressed around their chief with ejaculations of joy.
The aged patriarch felt his blood freshly warmed within his veins—he was young again!
In a few moments the excitement subsided, and the warriors, returning from the council-house, moved off towards their respective dwellings.
Oluski was the last to emerge from the council chamber.
As he stepped across the threshold, the fire that animated him seemed to have become suddenly extinguished.
His form was bent, his steps tottering and listless.
As he looked down the hill, he caught a glimpse of the white settlement, with its window-lights twinkling through the darkness.
One, more brilliant than the rest, attracted his attention.