The Indians formed a circle round the fire, by
joining hands, and their frantic gestures were teriffic to behold, and
their wild shrieks rent the air. Twice, and twice only, the fearful
war-whoop resounded, filling the heart of that lonely watcher with
indescribable fear.
It was past midnight; the moon had passed her zenith in the sky,
and the swarthy band seemed frantic with their wild orgies and
intoxication.
Many had fallen, beastly drunk, while others swayed like the forest
trees, rocked by the wintry whirlwind.
Dove Eye sat on a mossy rock looking upon the scene with a melancholy
expression of countenance. Near her lay stretched upon the bare
ground, Eagle Eye, the wife of the swarthy chief, who had joined their
tribe in their hunting excursions.
Suddenly a furious din arose, and it was evident that anger was added
to the other debasing passions that were holding control over their
benighted souls. Furious was the strife of words, and fearful menaces
and threats fell from brutal, savage lips.
Suddenly the stranger chief seized a burning torch, and accompanied by
a fierce looking companion, strode hastily toward the house. Dove Eye
saw their movements and sprang hurriedly to their side, endeavoring
to stop their progress; but they pushed her aside and proceeded. Mrs.
Fuller, too, saw them through the small pane of glass that was placed
in her board window, and hope almost forsook her. They passed on: the
light gleamed through the pane and flickered upon the face of her
sleeping infant.
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