[FULL-SIZE] -- [Medium-Size]
[FULL-SIZE] -- [Medium-Size]
I was enchained, but slightly, on account of my youth. Simaghan, the leader of the troop, desired to learn my name. I replied, ‘I am called Chactas, son of Outalissi, son of Miscou, who have taken more than a hundred scalps from the heroes of the Muscogulges.’ Simaghan then said, ‘Chactas, son of Outalissi, son of Miscou, rejoice; thou shalt be burnt at the big village.’ I answered, ‘That is well,’ and began to chaunt the song of death.
“Although a prisoner, I could not refrain, during the first few days, from admiring my enemies. The Muscogulge, and especially his ally, the Seminole, is full of gaiety, love and contentment. His walk is light, his mien calm and open. He speaks much, and with volubility. His language is harmonious and flowing. Even age does not deprive the sachems of this joyous simplicity: like the old birds of our forests, they mingle their ancient songs with the fresh notes of their young posterity.