THE GRAVE OF THE INDIAN KING. 237 



ence, and the aged chieftain was seated at the foot of a tall, weeping 

 elm, against the huge trunk of which he leaned for support. A brief 

 but solemn pause ensued, during which all eyes were directed to the 

 venerable father of the council. At length the veteran sachem raised 

 his head, and, looking about upon the group of chiefs and warriors 

 gathered anxiously around him, he broke silence as follows : 



" Why have my children brought Thurensera to the council fire ? 

 The Great Spirt will soon call him to his hunting-grounds. Thuren- 

 sera's eyes are dim, and his limbs, no longer like the bending sapling, 

 are stiff, like the scathed trees of the burnt prairies. He can no more 

 bend the strong bow. He cannot go forth on the war-path, or re- 

 count the deeds of his fathers to the young men at the council-fire. 

 Thurensera is a woman, but his father was a great chief; and, " ele- 

 vating his voice, he added, " I can now see him sitting upon a cloud 

 fringed with the red lightning, and beckoning me to come. Why 

 have my children called Thurensera? and why do their eyes rest 

 upon the ground, and their spirits droop like the hawk, when struck 

 by the young eagle ?" 



After another pause, and a moment's consultation among the chiefs, 

 one of the bravest warriors informed the sage of the intelligence re- 

 ceived from Yonnondio's camp, and of the peril of their situation : 

 they had, therefore, sent to their father for counsel in this emergency. 



Once more there was silence still as the forest shades, when not 

 a leaf rustles in the breeze, not a stick breaks beneath the light 

 tread of the fox. The venerable sage hid his furrowed countenance 

 in his withered hands, as if deeply engaged in thought, while the 

 dark group of chiefs and warriors gathered more closely around, all 

 ready to obey his counsel, be it what it might ; and all anxious, as 

 it were to drink in the wisdom that was for the last time, perhaps, to 

 flow from his lips. At length the chieftain of more than thirteen 

 hundred moons slowly raised his head, and spake as follows : 



u My children ! a cloud has gathered over our council-fire, and 

 you must fly ! Yonnondio is come among us with his people, like 

 a flock of birds. You must not wait till you see the big ball of 

 thunder coming to your destruction, or the star of day and night, that 

 breaks when it falls to burn your castle and your wigwams. 



" My children ! you have been like the lynx on the trail, and made 

 the war-path red with the blood of your enemies. But you must fly, 

 until joined by the Oneydoes, the Cayugas, and the Senekas, when 

 you can come back on your enemies, and spring upon them like the 

 hungry panther. You will spring on them while they are asleep, 

 and the fire-balls cannot burst upon you, to kill my warriors and 

 burn up their wigwams. 



