ed these
expressive gestures seemed to produce a considerable effect upon all his
hearers, even upon the ancient chief; who, at the close of the oration,
giving a sign to one of his young men, the latter ran to the copse and in
an instant returned, bringing with him one of the horses, which the chief
immediately handed over, through his deputy, to the orator, and the
orator to one of the two young warriors, who seemed to be of his own
tribe. The chief then pointed to a keg of the fire-water, and this was
also given to the Piankeshaw, who received it with a grin of ecstacy,
embraced it, snuffed at its odoriferous contents, and then passed it in
like manner to his second follower. The chief made yet another signal,
and the deputy, taking Roland by the arm, and giving him a piercing,
perhaps even a pitying, look, delivered him likewise into the hands of
the Piankeshaw; who, as if his happiness were now complete, received him
with a yell of joy, that was caught up by his two companions, and finally
joined in by all the savages present.

This shout seemed to be the signal for the breaking up of the convention.
All rose to their feet, iterating and reiterating the savage cry, while
the Piankeshaw, clutching his prize, and slipping a noose around the
thong that bound his arms, endeavoured to drag him to the horse, on which
the young men had already secured the keg of liquor, and which they were
holding in readiness for the elder barbarian to mount.

At that conjecture, and while Roland was beginning to suspect that even
the wretched consolation of remaining in captivity by his kinswoman's
side was about to be denied him, and while the main body of savages were
obviously bidding farewell to the little band of Piankeshaws, some
shaking them by the hands, while others made game of the prisoner's
distress in sundry Indian ways, and all uttering yells expressive of
their different feelings, there appeared rushing from the copse, and
running among the barbarians, the damsel Telie Doe, who, not a little to
the surprise even of the ill-fated Roland himself, ran to his side,
caught the rope by which he was held, and endeavoured frantically to
snatch it from the hands of the Piankeshaw.

The act, for one of her peculiarly timorous spirit, was surprising
enough; but a great transformation seemed to have suddenly taken place in
her character, and even her appearance, which was less that of a feeble
woman engaged in a work of humanity, t