A deep suppressed murmur was the only reply made by the gloomy warriors around; but War–Eagle knew its import, and read its confirmation on the determined countenances of those who had so often followed him to strife and victory.
The mortal agony was at hand, and the chief, feeling its approach, looked suddenly round as if he missed some one who should be there: his utterance was scarcely articulate, but Prairie–bird caught the intended sound of Lita’s name, and flying into the tent, speedily returned, bringing with her the weeping girl. Again he contrived to make Prairie–bird understand his wish, that an armlet of beads that he wore should be taken off and hung round Lita’s neck; the chief smiled and said, “Lita has been faithful to Olitipa, and very good to War–Eagle; the Great Spirit will reward her.”
The destroyer was now rapidly tightening his fell coils round the vital organs, but the chief still retained sufficient strength to press the hand of each of his sorrowing friends in succession against that generous heart which must so soon cease to beat. Wingenund was the last; and as he stooped over his brother, whispered to him a word that reached the ear of Prairie–bird; and while it richly rewarded her pious and affectionate toil, lighted up at the same time the countenance of the dying man with a smile of triumph that bid defiance to the pangs of the grisly king of terrors. From the time that he received his fatal wounds, not a groan nor a murmur of complaint had escaped him; and when he resigned his parting breath, it was with the peaceful tranquillity of childhood falling asleep.
“My children,” said the missionary, solemnly, “War–Eagle, the son of Tamenund, is no more! In life none walked more uprightly than he, according to the light that was given to him! He gave up his life to save that of another, and after enduring grievous pains with the heroism of an Indian warrior, he died with a full hope and trust in the redeeming mercy of his God. Peace be with his soul; and may we all rejoin him hereafter in the land where separation and sorrow will be unknown!”
CHAPTER XII.
WAR–EAGLE’S FUNERAL.—THE PARTY COMMENCE THEIR HOMEWARD JOURNEY.—BESHA EXERTS HIS DIPLOMATIC TALENTS FOR THE LAST TIME, AND RECEIVES SEVERAL REWARDS, WITH SOME OF WHICH HE WOULD WILLINGLY HAVE DISPENSED.