acter, containing both single and communal wigwams. The
permanent wigwams were of an oblong form, built of poles interwoven with
bark. Many were, as Shif'less Sol called them, double-barreled--that is,
in two sections, a family to each section, but with a common hall in
which the fire was built, each family sitting on its side of the fire.
But all these were empty now, as men, women and children had gone to the
open space in the center of the village. The communal lodges were much
larger, often holding six or seven families, but with entirely distinct
partitions for every family. Here in the woods was a rude germ of the
modern apartment house.

Henry and Sol drew near to the common, keeping concealed within the
shadow of the lodges. The open space was blazing with light from big
fires and many squaws carried torches also. Within this space were
grouped the guests of the Wyandots, the Shawnees and the Miamis, with
their chiefs at their head. They were painted heavily, and were in the
finest attire of the savage, embroidered leggings and moccasins, and red
or blue blankets. From every head rose a bright feather twined in the
defiant scalp lock. But the Shawnees and Miamis stood motionless, every
man resting the stock of his rifle upon the ground and his hands upon
the muzzle. They were guests. They were not to take any part in the
ceremony, but they were deeply interested in the great rites of an
allied and friendly nation, the great little tribe of the Wyandots, the
woman-ruled nation, terrible in battle, the bravest of the brave the
finest savage fighters the North American continent ever produced, the
Mohawks not excepted. And the fact remains that they were ruled by
women.

The Wyandot warriors had not yet entered the open, which was a great
circular grassy space. But as Henry and Shif'less Sol leaned in the
shadow of a lodge, a tall warrior painted in many colors came forth into
the light of the fires, and uttered a loud cry, which he repeated twice
at short intervals. Meanwhile the torches among the women and children
had ceased to waver, and the Shawnees and Miamis stood immovable, their
hands resting on the muzzles of their rifles. The great fires blazed up,
and cast a deep red light over the whole scene. A minute or so elapsed
after the last cry, and Henry and Shif'less Sol noticed the expectant
hush.

Then at the far side of the circle appeared the Wyandot warriors, six
abreast coming between the lodges. They