[HALE] AN IROQUOIS CONDOLING COUNCIL Si 
and patient auditors, however, were better informed. The ancient custom 
requires that the nations who have been comforted shall return a suitable 
response and acknowledgment. Once more the Condoling Song was com- 
menced—this time from the eastern corner. Chief Skanawati led the 
chant in a high, clear voice. In the chorus the sweet musical notes of 
the blind Kanyadariyo and the deep bass voice of his father, Atotarho, 
could he heard. Twenty strong male voices mingled their powerful har- 
mony, swelling and falling like the moan of a wind rushing through the 
forest. As thus chanted, the * hymn.” became exciting ; and I now under- 
stood why it was known among them as the * Stirrer” or “ Rouser.” 
Skanawati, who was seated on the upper bench, next to the wall, 
now rose, and holding in his hand one of the wampum strings which he 
had received from Montour, expressed the thanks of the elder nations for 
the sympathy of their younger allies—their “offspring,” as he termed 
them. He then repeated in due order each topic of consolation, to show 
that it had been duly weighed and appreciated. As he closed each section 
thus recited, he handed its indicatory string, or knot of strings, to an 
attendant, who bore it solemnly down the hall, and replaced it in the 
hands of Chief Montour. This repetition was made in the same brief and 
sharp sentences, and the same high artificial tones, which had marked 
their original delivery. It occupied nearly as much time, and still the 
patience of the motionless audience seemed unexhansted. 
At length, however, the speaker’s voice abruptly ceased. He took 
his seat, and a slight movement was apparent throughout the assemblage, 
such as occurs in a meeting for public worship when the regular services 
are closed, but some other ceremony is expected to follow. It was now 
growing dark, and some young men proceeded to light the lamps in the 
sconces which were ranged along the walls of the room. The light 
brought out the scene more vividly than before—the lines of swarthy, 
impassive faces, the motionless figures, the gay dresses of the women, and 
the dull hues of the opposite benches. There was a general air of expec- 
tation, and all eyes were turned towards the corner where the chiefs of 
the senior nation were seated. Presently Skanawati again rose, and, 
leaving his seat, took his post near the eastern end of the hall. Address- 
ing the chiefs of the junior nations, he said that they had called upon the 
nations who had lost their councillors to bring forth the candidates who 
were expected to replace them. On behalf of the Onondaga nation, he 
would now offer them one to take the place of his brother, Rononhwireh- 
ton (George Buck), or, as he pronounced the name in its Onondaga form, 
Hononhwiehti. A young man of intelligent aspect came forward and 
stood by the side of the orator, who proceeded to say that the family of 
the deceased chief, represented by their “Chief Matron,’ considered that 
they had no member better qualified for the office than the man whom he 
now presented to the Council. He was young, but they believed he had 
