'"
"The Beam of the Morning shall become the wife of the Young Pine," was the
courteous answer; but stern revenge lay deep hidden beneath the unmoved
brow and passionless lip.
The fatal day arrived; the Bald Eagle, with unflinching hand and eye that
dropped no human tear of sorrow for the son of his love, plunged the weapon
into his heart with Spartan-like firmness. The fearful feast of human flesh
was prepared, and that old chief, pale but unmoved, presided over the
ceremonies. The war-dance was danced round the sacrifice, and all went
off well, as if no such fearful rite had been enacted: but a fearful
retribution was at hand. The Young Pine sought the tent of the Bald Eagle's
daughter that evening, and was received with all due deference, as a son
of so great a chief as the Black Snake merited; he was regarded now as
a successful suitor, and intoxicated with the beauty of the Beam of the
Morning, pressed her to allow the marriage to take place in a few days.
The bride consented, and a day was named for the wedding feast to be
celebrated, and that due honour might be given to so great an event,
invitations were sent out to the principal families of the Mohawk tribe,
and these amounted to several hundreds of souls, while the young Ojebwa
hunters were despatched up the river and to different parts of the country,
avowedly to collect venison, beaver, and other delicacies to regale their
guests, but in reality to summon by means of trusty scouts a large war
party from the small lakes, to be in readiness to take part in the deadly
revenge that was preparing for their enemies.
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