s neither red nor pale."

A long and musing pause succeeded. The chief consulted apart with his
companions, and messengers were despatched to collect certain others of
the most distinguished men of the tribe.

As warrior after warrior dropped in, they were each made acquainted, in
turn, with the important intelligence that Magua had just communicated.
The air of surprise, and the usual low, deep, guttural exclamation, were
common to them all. The news spread from mouth to mouth, until the whole
encampment became powerfully agitated. The women suspended their
labors, to catch such syllables as unguardedly fell from the lips of the
consulting warriors. The boys deserted their sports, and walking
fearlessly among their fathers, looked up in curious admiration, as they
heard the brief exclamations of wonder they so freely expressed at the
temerity of their hated foe. In short, every occupation was abandoned
for the time, and all other pursuits seemed discarded, in order that the
tribe might freely indulge, after their own peculiar manner, in an open
expression of feeling.

When the excitement had a little abated, the old men disposed themselves
seriously to consider that which it became the honor and safety of their
tribe to perform, under circumstances of so much delicacy and
embarrassment. During all these movements, and in the midst of the
general commotion, Magua had not only maintained his seat, but the very
attitude he had originally taken, against the side of the lodge, where
he continued as immovable, and, apparently, as unconcerned, as if he had
no interest in the result. Not a single indication of the future
intentions of his hosts, however, escaped his vigilant eyes. With his
consummate knowledge of the nature of the people with whom he had to
deal, he anticipated every measure on which they decided; and it might
almost be said, that, in many instances, he knew their intentions, even
before they became known to themselves.

The council of the Delawares was short. When it was ended, a general
bustle announced that it was to be immediately succeeded by a solemn and
formal assemblage of the nation. As such meetings were rare, and only
called on occasions of the last importance, the subtle Huron, who still
sat apart, a wily and dark observer of the proceedings, now knew that
all his projects must be brought to their final issue. He therefore left
the lodge, and walked silently forth to the place in front of the
e