There was a great hum of voices and an
incessant chattering. Here in the forest, among themselves, and
in complete security, the Indian stoicism was relaxed. According
to their customs everybody fell to eating at a prodigious rate,
as if they had not tasted anything for a month, and as if they
intended to eat enough now to last another month.
It was far into the night, because the ceremonies had lasted a
long time, but a brilliant moon shone down upon the feasting
crowd, and the flames of the great fires, yellow and blue, leaped
and danced. This was an oasis of light and life. Timmendiquas
and Thayendanegea sat together before the largest fire, and they
ate with more restraint than the others. Even at the banquet
they would not relax their dignity as great chiefs. Old
Skanawati, the Onondaga, old Atotarho, Onondaga, too,
Satekariwate, the Mohawk, Kanokarih, the Seneca, and others, head
chiefs though they were of the three senior tribes, did not
hesitate to eat as the rich Romans of the Empire ate, swallowing
immense quantities of all kinds of meat, and drinking a sort of
cider that the women made. Several warriors ate and drank until
they fell down in a stupor by the fires.
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