whom it was said he had never listened to
words of the paleface, had the central position in this circle. On
his right and left, respectively, sat Shaushoto and Pipe, implacable
foes of all white men. The latter's aspect did not belie his
reputation. His copper-colored, repulsive visage compelled fear; it
breathed vindictiveness and malignity. A singular action of his was
that he always, in what must have been his arrogant vanity, turned
his profile to those who watched him, and it was a remarkable one;
it sloped in an oblique line from the top of his forehead to his
protruding chin, resembling somewhat the carved bowl of his pipe,
which was of flint and a famed inheritance from his ancestors. From
it he took his name. One solitary eagle plume, its tip stained
vermilion, stuck from his scalp-lock. It slated backward on a line
with his profile.

Among all these chiefs, striking as they were, the figure of
Wingenund, the Delaware, stood out alone.

His position was at the extreme left of the circle, where he leaned
against a maple. A long, black mantle, trimmed with spotless white,
enveloped him. One bronzed arm, circled by a heavy bracelet of gold,
held the mantle close about his lofty form. His headdress, which
trailed to the ground, was exceedingly beautiful. The eagle plumes
were of uniform length and pure white, except the black-pointed
tips.

At his feet sat his daughter, Whispering Winds. Her maidens were
gathered round her. She raised her soft, black eyes, shining with a
wondrous light of surprise and expectation, to the young
missionary's face.

Beyond the circle the Indians were massed together, even beyond the
limits of the glade. Under the trees on every side sat warriors
astride their steeds; some lounged on the green turf; many reclined
in the branches of low-spreading maples.

As Jim looked out over the sea of faces he started in surprise. The
sudden glance of fiery eyes had impelled his gaze. He recognized
Silvertip, the Shawnee chief. The Indian sat motionless on a
powerful black horse. Jim started again, for the horse was Joe's
thoroughbred, Lance. But Jim had no further time to think of Joe's
enemy, for Heckewelder stepped back.

Jim took the vacated seat, and, with a far-reaching, resonant voice
began his discourse to the Indians.

"Chieftains, warriors, maidens, children of the forest, listen, and
your ears shall hear no lie. I am come from where the sun rises to
tell you of the Great Spir