238 THE GRAVE OF THE INDIAN KING. 



u My children ! Thurensera will stay to show Yonnondio's pale- 

 faces how to die. Yonnondio shall see what a Mingo can bear with- 

 out a cry of pain. He shall see what his children will have to fear, 

 when my sons assemble their warriors, and come upon his settle- 

 ments in their wrath. 



"My children! when you pass this way, look for my bones. 

 Bury them deep in the bosom of the earth, who is my mother, on 

 the hill looking towards the rising sun, by the lake that is beautiful. 

 Put into my grave my pipe, my hatchet, and my bow, that I may 

 chase the moose and the buffalo in the hunting grounds of the 

 Great Spirit. Put in my canoe, that is on the beautiful lake, that 

 when the Great Spirit tells me I may come and look upon my 

 children, I may paddle again on the bright waters of the Skaneatelas. 

 I will come when the moon in her fulness steals over the lake to let 

 her light sleep on its calm bosom. As I glide onward, the lovers 

 among our young men and women will dream of other days; and 

 the spirits of the clouds will whisper * The grave of the old warrior, 

 who taught Yonnondio how to die.' They will tell the white man 

 to cross it with a soft step. 



" My children ! you must fly ! Keep the covenant chain of our 

 tribes bright as silver, and let it bind you together like strong iron. 

 Put the brand to your castle and your wigwams, that Yonnondio 

 may get no booty but the scalp of Thurensera. Let the rain of 

 heaven wash all the bad from your hearts, that we may again smoke 

 together in friendship in the happy country of the Great Spirit. 

 Thurensera has no more to say." 



The aged chief was listened to throughout with the most profound 

 attention. The subsequent deliberation was brief, for time was 

 pressing, and the decision of the council was unanimous, to avoid 

 an engagement and retire into the forest. The chiefs and warriors, 

 and the young men in particular, were exceedingly reluctant to leave 

 the venerable sachem, by whose wisdom they had so long been 

 guided, and by whose arm so often led to victory ; but he was reso- 

 lute in his purpose, and inflexible in his determination. He gather- 

 ed himself into an attitude of perfect composure, and, turning his 

 face in the direction from which Frontenac was expected, prepared 

 to meet his fate. Meantime the sachems and warriors, having has- 

 tily completed their arrangements, took their final leave of the old 

 chieftain, applied the brand to their dwellings, and disappeared in 

 the thick wilderness. 



The Count Frontenac, astonished at the sight of the ascending 

 columns of smoke, as they rose in dense and curling masses towards 

 the sky, moved rapidly forward, but it was to an empty conquest. 



