CHAPTER XV
THE SACHEM DECIDES
A sibilant sound, the indrawing of many breaths, passed about the wigwam. David, after a first horrified look at the awful trophies, closed his eyes against the sight, faint and sick. For an instant the scene rocked and swayed about him and he stretched forth a groping hand for support. Then the tremor passed and a great and suffocating anger swelled within him, and he opened his eyes again to see Metipom leaning forward above the heads, his countenance set in a grim and baleful smile. Wissataumkin, on his feet, looked down triumphantly. The flat-faced Tamanso had the air of a conjuror after a successful trick. Him they called Wompatannawa, alone of the three emissaries, showed no emotion. Very straight he sat, his gaze fixed levelly over the heads of the throng.
At sight of Monapikot, David’s wrath overflowed and he sprang to his feet, one outstretched hand pointing accusingly at the Pegan.
