The Hunters of the Hills, Joseph A. Altsheler [ereader ebook TXT] 📗

The three, side by side, their hearts beating hard, advanced slowly and with dignity through the groves. From many points came the sound of singing and down the aisles of the trees they saw young girls in festival attire. All the foliage was in deepest green and the sky was the soft but brilliant blue of early spring. The air seemed to be charged with electricity, because all had a tense and expectant feeling.

For Robert, so highly imaginative, the luminous glow deepened. He had studied much in the classics, after the fashion of the time, in the school at Albany, and his head was filled with the old Greek and Roman learning. Now he saw the ancient symbolism reproduced in the great forests of North America by the nations of the Hodenosaunee, who had never heard of Greece or Rome, nor, to him, were the religion and poetry of the Iroquois inferior in power and beauty, being much closer kin than the gods of Greece and Rome to his own Christian beliefs.

"Manitou favors us," said Tayoga, looking up at the soft blue velvet of the sky. "Gaoh, the spirit of the Winds, moves but gently in his home, Dayodadogowah."

He looked toward the west, because it was there that Gaoh, who had the bent figure and weazened face of an old man, always sat, Manitou having imprisoned him with the elements, and having confined him to one place. In the beautiful Iroquois mythology, Gaoh often struggled to release himself, though never with success. Sometimes his efforts were but mild, and then he produced gentle breezes, but when he fought fiercely for freedom the great storms blew and tore down the forests.

"Gaoh is not very restless today," continued Tayoga. "He struggles but lightly, and the wind from the west is soft upon our faces."

"And it brings the perfume of flowers and of tender young leaves with it, Tayoga," said Willet. "It's a wonderful world and I'm just a boy today, standing at its threshold."

"And even though war may come, perhaps Manitou will smile upon us," said Tayoga. "The Three Sisters whom Hawenneu, who is the same to the white man as Manitou, gave to us, the spirit of the Corn, the spirit of the Squash and the spirit of the Bean will abide with us and give us plenty. The spirits in the shape of beautiful young girls hover over us. We cannot see them, but they are there."

He looked up and shadows passed over their heads. To the mystic soul of the young Onondaga they were the spirits of the three sisters who typified abundance, and Robert himself quivered. He still saw with the eyes and felt with the heart of an Iroquois.

Both he and Tayoga were conscious that the spirits were everywhere about them. All the elements and all the powers of nature were symbolized and typified. The guardians of fire, earth, water, healing, war, the chase, love, winter, summer and a multitude of others, floated in the air. The trees themselves had spirits and identity and all the spirits who together constituted the Honochenokeh were the servants and assistants of Hawenneyu. To the eyes of Tayoga that saw not and yet saw, it was a highly peopled world, and there was meaning in everything, even in the fall of the leaf.

Tayoga presently put his fingers to his lips and uttered a long mellow whistle. A whistle in reply came from a grove just ahead, and fourteen men, all of middle years or beyond, emerged into view. Though elderly, not one among them showed signs of weakness. They were mostly tall, they held themselves very erect, and their eyes were of uncommon keenness and penetration. They were the fourteen sachems of the Onondagas, and at their head was the first in rank, Tododaho, a name that never ceased to exist, being inherited from the great chief who founded the League centuries before, and being passed on from successor to successor. Close to him came Tonessaah, whose name also lasted forever and who was the hereditary adviser of Tododaho, and near him walked Daatgadose and the others.

Tayoga, Robert and Willet stopped, and the great chief, Tododaho, a man of splendid presence, in the full glory of Iroquois state costume, gave them welcome. The sight of Tayoga, of lofty birth, of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, was particularly pleasing to his eyes. It was well that the young warriors, who some day would be chiefs to lead in council and battle, should be present. And the coming of the white man and the white lad, who were known to be trusted friends of the Hodenosaunee, was welcome also.

The three, each in turn, made suitable replies, and Robert, his gift of golden speech moving him, spoke a little longer than the others. He made a free use of metaphor and allegory, telling how dear were the prosperity and happiness of the Hodenosaunee to his soul, and he felt every word he said. Charged with the thoughts and impressions of an Iroquois, the fourteen chiefs were the quintessence of dignity and importance to him, and when they smiled and nodded approval of his youthful effort his heart was lifted up. Then he, Tayoga and Willet bowed low to these men who in very truth were the keepers of the council fire of the Hodenosaunee, and whose word might sway the destinies of North America, and, bowing, passed on that they might rest in the Long House, as became three great warriors who had valiantly done their duty in the forest when confronted by their enemies, and who had come to do another and sacred duty in the vale of Onondaga.

Young warriors were their escort into one of the great log houses, which in their nature were much like the community houses found at a later day in the far southwest. The building they entered was a full hundred and twenty feet in length and about forty feet broad, and it had five fires, each built in the center of its space. The walls and roof were of poles thatched with bark, and there were no windows, but over each fire was a circular opening in the roof where the air entered and the smoke went out. If rain or storm came these orifices were covered with great pieces of bark.

On the long sides of the walls extended platforms about six feet wide, covered with furs and skins where the warriors slept. Overhead was a bark canopy on top of which they placed their possessions. About a dozen warriors were in the house, all lying down, but they rose and greeted the three. Berths were assigned to them at once, food and water were brought, and Robert, weary from the long march, decided that he would sleep.

"I think I'll do the same," said Willet, "and then we'll be fresh for what's coming. Tayoga, I suppose, will want to see his kin first."

Tayoga nodded, and presently disappeared. Then Robert and Willet took their places upon the bark platforms and were soon asleep, not awakening until the next morning when they went forth and found that the excitement in the valley had increased. Tayoga came to them at once and told them that Sanundathawata, the council of repentance, was about to be held. The dawn was just appearing, and as the sun rose the sachems of the Onondagas would proceed to the council grove and receive the sachems of the allied nations.

"You will wish to see the ceremony," he said.

"Of course, of course!" said Robert, eagerly, who found that with the coming of a new day he was as much an Iroquois in spirit as ever. Nor could he see that Willet was less keen about it and the three proceeded promptly to the council grove where a multitude was already hastening. There was, too, a great buzz of talk, as the Iroquois here in the vale, the very heart of their country, did not show the taciturnity in which the red man so often takes refuge in the presence of the white.

The fourteen Onondaga chiefs, Tododaho at their head and Tonessaah at his right, were gathered in the grove, and the warriors of the allied nations approached, headed by their chiefs, nine for the Mohawks, ten for the Oneidas, nine for the Cayugas, and eight for the Senecas, while the Tuscaroras, who were a new nation in the League, had none at all, but spoke through their friends, the Oneidas, within whose lands they had been allowed to settle. And when the roll of the nations of the Hodenosaunee was called it was not the Onondagas, Keepers of the Council Fire, who were called first, although they were equal in honor, and leaders in council, but the fierce and warlike Mohawks. Then came the Onondagas, after them the numerous Senecas, followed by the Oneidas, with the Cayugas next and the sachemless Tuscaroras last, but filled with pride that they, wanderers from their ancient lands, and not large in numbers, had shown themselves so valiant and enduring that the greatest of all Indian leagues, the Hodenosaunee, should be willing to admit them as a nation.

Behind the sachems stood the chiefs, the two names not being synonymous among the Iroquois, and although the name of the Mohawks was called first the Onondagas were masters of the ceremonies, were, in fact, the priests of the Hodenosaunee, and their first chief, Tododaho, was the first chief of all the League. Yet the Senecas, who though superior in numbers were inferior in chiefs, also had an office, being Door Keepers of the Long House, while the Onondagas were the keepers in the larger sense. The eighth sachem of the Senecas, Donehogaweh, had the actual physical keeping of the door, when the fifty sachems met within, and he also had an assistant who obeyed all his orders, and who, upon occasion, acted as a herald or messenger. But the Onondaga sachem, Honowenato, kept the wampum.

The more Robert saw of the intertwined religious, military and political systems of the Hodenosaunee, the more he admired them, and he missed nothing as the Onondaga sachems received their brother sachems of the allied tribes, all together being known as the Hoyarnagowar, while the chiefs who were elective were known collectively as the Hasehnowaneh.

Robert, Willet, and Tayoga, who was yet too young to have a part in the ceremonies, stood on one side with the crowd and watched with the most intense interest. Among the nine Mohawk sachems they recognized Dayohogo, who had given Robert the name Dagaeoga, and the lad resolved to see him later and renew their friendship.

Meanwhile the thirty-six visiting sachems formed themselves in a circle, with Tododaho, highest of the Onondagas in rank, among them, and facing the sun which was rising in a golden sea above the eastern hills. Presently the Onondaga lifted his hand and the hum and murmur in the great crowd that looked on ceased. Then starting towards the north the sachems moved with measured steps around the circle three times. Every one of them carried with him a bundle of fagots, and in this case half of the bundle was red and half white. When they stopped each sachem put his bundle of fagots on the ground, and sat down before it, while an assistant sachem came and stood behind him. Tododaho took flint and steel from his pouch, set fire first to his own fagots and then to all the others, after which he took the pipe of peace, lighted it from one of the fires, and, drawing upon it three times, blew one puff of smoke toward the center of the heavens, another upon the ground, and the last directly toward the rising sun.

"He gives thanks," whispered Tayoga, to Robert, "first to Manitou, who has kept us alive, next to our great mother, the Earth, who has produced the food that we eat and who sends forth the water that we drink, and last to the Sun, who lights and warms us."

Robert thought it a beautiful ceremony, full of idealism, and he nodded his thanks to Tayoga while he still watched. Tododaho passed the pipe to the sachem on his right, who took the three puffs in a similar manner, and thus it was passed to all, the entire act requiring a long time, but at its end the fourteen Onondaga sachems and the thirty-six visiting sachems sat down together and under the presidency of Tododaho the council was opened.

"But little will be done today," said Tayoga. "It is merely what you call at the Albany school a preliminary. The really great meeting will be after the Maple Dance, and then we shall know