' Thus spake the invisible
prophet. Years rolled on, years thick on years, and none of the
accursed white-faces were seen; but they appeared at last, wrapped up
in their pale skins like shrouds of the dead, and the father of my
father, whom tradition had taught to guard against the predicted
danger, slew two of the hated strangers, and my father, in his turn,
killed four.
"'Praise be to the chiefs of the Beard,
Who knew how to avenge their old ancestral injury,
When with the sweet blood of a white foe
Their black beards they proudly dyed red.'
"Let there be joy in the hearts of the Natchez. When I saw the glorious
light of day there was born to them a great warrior of the race of
their Suns--a warrior and a chief with a beard on his chin. The pledge
of protection, of safety, and of glory stood embodied in me. When I
shouted my first war-whoop the owl hooted and smelt the ghosts of my
enemies, the wolves howled, and the carrion vultures shrieked with joy;
for they knew their food was coming, and I fed them with Chickasaws'
flesh and with Choctaws' flesh until they were gorged with the flesh of
the red man.
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