the moment. Had he done so doubtless the stirrings of memory would have been stronger.
Presently the spokesman, an Indian of no less stature than he who had caused David’s perplexity, but with flatter features and less grace of carriage, ended his discourse. A moment of silence followed. Then Metipom began to speak. The sachem had a deep and resonant voice and used it eloquently. Also he used it at much length, and David felt that his body was shriveling in the heat ere the sachem ended and the throng within the gate fell back. David found himself in the front of the throng when Metipom and his counselors stalked back through the entrance, followed by the visitors, and hence was within arm’s reach of the latter as they passed him. First came he who had spoken, the perspiration standing in beads upon the oiled surface of his body, his eyes straight ahead, a sort of contemptuous dignity upon him. The shorter and heavier Indian followed upon his heels, a sly-eyed, long-headed youth who saw much without seeming to turn his gaze. Behind him, lithe with the easy grace of a panther, came the third messenger. He, too, following the custom of
