At the east end, on both high
and low seats, were warriors, and facing them on the western side
were women, also on both high and low seats. The southern side
facing the chiefs was divided into sections, each with high and
low seats. The one on the left was occupied by men, and the one
on the right by women. Two small fires burned in the center of
the Long House about fifteen feet apart.
It was the most singular and one of the most impressive scenes
that Henry had ever beheld. When all had found their seats there
was a deep silence. Henry could hear the slight crackling made
by the two fires as they burned, and the light fell faintly
across the multitude of dark, eager faces. Not less than five
hundred people were in the Long House, and here was the red man
at his best, the first of the wild, not the second or third of
the civilized, a drop of whose blood in his veins brings to the
white man now a sense of pride, and not of shame, as it does when
that blood belongs to some other races.
The effect upon Henry was singular. He almost forgot that he was
a foe among them on a mission. For the moment he shared in their
feelings, and he waited with eagerness for whatever might come.
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