is no sound was
heard but the low, weird monotone of a ritual older than the white
man's footprints in North America.

It is necessary that a chief of each of the three "clans" of the
Mohawks shall assist in this ceremony. The veteran chief, who sang the
formula, was of the Bear clan. His son, Onwanonsyshon, was of the Wolf
(the clan-ship descends through the mother's side of the family). Then
one other chief, of the Turtle clan, and in whose veins coursed the
blood of the historic Brant, now stepped to the edge of the scarlet
blanket. The chant ended, these two young chiefs received the Prince
into the Mohawk tribe, conferring upon him the name of "Kavakoudge,"
which means "the sun flying from East to West under the guidance of the
Great Spirit."

Onwanonsyshon then took from his waist a brilliant deep-red sash,
heavily embroidered with beads, porcupine quills and dyed moose hair,
placing it over the Prince's left shoulder and knotting it beneath his
right arm. The ceremony was ended. The Constitution that Hiawatha had
founded centuries ago, a Constitution wherein fifty chiefs, no more, no
less, should form the parliament of the "Six Nations," had been
shattered and broken, because this race of loyal red men desired to do
honor to a slender young boy-prince, who now bears the fifty-first
title of the Iroquois.

Many white men have received from these same people honorary titles,
but none has been bestowed through the ancient ritual, with the
imperative members of the three clans assisting, save that borne by
Arthur of Connaught.

After the ceremony the Prince entered the church to autograph his name
in the ancient Bible, which, with a silver Holy Communion service, a
bell, two tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments, and a bronze
British coat-of-arms, had been presented to the Mohawks by Queen Anne.
He inscribed "Arthur" just below the "Albert Edward," which, as Prince
of Wales, the late king wrote when he visited Canada in 1860.

When he returned to England, Chief Kavakoudge sent his portrait,
together with one of Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort, to be
placed in the Council House of the "Six Nations," where they decorate
the walls today.

As I write, I glance up to see, in a corner of my room, a draping
scarlet blanket, made of British army broadcloth, for the chief who
rode the jet-black pony so long ago was the writer's father. He was
not here to wear it when Arthur of Connaught again set fo