at all, had it not been for his height, and when a warrior or two
glanced at him he uttered some words in Shawnee, saying that he
had wandered far, and was glad to come to the hospitable
Iroquois. One who could speak a little Shawnee bade him welcome,
and they went on, satisfied, their minds more intent upon the
ceremony than upon a visitor.

The Council House, built of light poles and covered with poles
and thatch, was at least sixty feet long and about thirty feet
wide, with a large door on the eastern side, and one or two
smaller ones on the other sides. As Henry arrived, the great
chiefs and sub-chiefs of the Iroquois were entering the building,
and about it were grouped many warriors and women, and even
children. But all preserved a decorous solemnity, and, knowing
the customs of the forest people so well, he was sure that the
ceremony, whatever it might be, must be of a highly sacred
nature. He himself drew to one side, keeping as much as possible
in the shadow, but he was using to its utmost power every faculty
of observation that Nature had given him.

Many of the fires were still burning, but the moon had come out
with great brightness, throwing a silver light over the whole
village, and investing with attributes that savored of the mystic
and impressive this ceremony, held by a savage but great race
here in the depths of the primeval forest. Henry was about to
witness a Condoling Council, which was at once a mourning for
chiefs who had fallen in battle farther east with his own people
and the election and welcome of their successors.

The chiefs presently came forth from the Council House or, as it