Yes, there was my betrothed--within sight, within hearing, almost within
reach of my hands; and I dared not touch, I dared not speak, I scarcely
dared look upon her!
My fingers trembled among the leaves--my heart rose and fell--I could
feel within my breast its strokes, rapid and irregular--I could hear its
sonorous vibration.
It was not at the first glance that I saw Isolina. On looking through
the leaves, the _coup d'oeil_ was a scene that quite astonished me, and
for a while occupied my attention. Since I had last gazed upon the
great fire, the grouping around it had undergone an entire change; a new
tableau was presented, that for the moment held me under a spell of
surprise.
The fire no longer blazed, or only slightly, and when stirred; the logs
had burned into coals, and now yielded a fainter light, but one more red
and garish. It was steady, nevertheless, and the vastness of the pile
rendered it strong enough to illumine the camp-ground to its utmost
limits.
The fire was still encircled by savages, but no longer standing, nor
grouped irregularly, as I had before observed them; on the contrary,
they were seated, or rather squatted at equal distances from each other,
and forming a ring that girdled the huge mound of embers.
There were about twenty of these men--I did not count them--but I
observed that all were in their native costume--leggings, and
breech-cloth to the waist--nothing above, save the armlets and
shell-ornaments of nose, ears, and neck. All were profusely painted
with chalk, ochre, and vermilion. Beyond doubt, I was looking upon the
"council."
The other Indians--they in "fancy dresses"--were still upon the ground;
but they were standing behind, retired a pace or two from the circle,
and in groups of two, three, or four, talking in low mutterings. Others
were moving about at a still greater distance from the fire.
My observation of all these features of the scene did not occupy ten
seconds of time--just so long as my eyes were getting accustomed to the
light.
At the end of that interval, my glance rested upon Isolina, and there
became fixed.
My fingers trembled among the leaves; my heart rose and fell; I could
feel within my breast its strokes, rapid and irregular; I could hear its
sonorous vibration.
In the chain of Indians that encircled the fire, there was a break--an
interval of ten or a dozen feet. It was directly in front of the lodge,
and _above_ the fire; for the ground gently sloped from the tent towards
the stream.
In this spot the captive was seated. Her situation was exactly between
the lodge and the fire, and a little retired behind the circle of the
council. The tent intervening between her and my position, had
prevented me from seeing her at first.
She was half-seated, half-reclining upon a robe of wolfskins. I saw
that her arms were free; I saw that her limbs were bound. Her back was
to the tent, her face turned towards the council. I could not see it.
To recognise my betrothed, I did not need to look upon her face; her
matchless form, outlined against the red embers, was easily identified.
The full round curve of the neck--the oval lines of the head--the
majestic sweep of the shoulders--the arms smooth and symmetrical--all
these were familiar to my eyes, for oft had they dwelt on them in
admiration. I could not be mistaken; the form before me was that graven
upon my heart--it was Isolina's.
There was another salient point in this singular tableau, that could not
escape observation. Beyond the fire, and directly opposite to where
Isolina was placed, I saw another well-known object--the white steed!
He was not staked there, but haltered and held in hand by one of the
Indians. He must have been lately brought upon the ground, for from
neither of my former points of observation had I noticed him. He, like
his mistress, was "on trial"--his ownership was also matter of dispute.
There was in sight one more object that interested me--not with friendly
interest did I regard it--but with disgust and indignation.
Not seated in the council ring, nor standing among the idle groups, but
apart from all, I beheld Hissoo-royo the renegade. Savage as were the
red warriors, fiend-like as they appeared with their paint-smeared
visages, not one looked so savage or fiend-like as he.
The features of this man were naturally bad: but the paint--for he had
adopted this with every other vile custom of barbarian life--rendered
their expression positively ferocious. The device upon his forehead was
a death's-head and cross-bones--done in white chalk--and upon his breast
appeared the well-imitated semblance of a bleeding scalp--the
appropriate symbols of a cruel disposition.
There was something unnatural in a white skin thus disfigured, for the
native complexion was not hidden: here and there it could be perceived
forming the ground of the motley elaboration--its pallid hue in strange
contrast with the deeper colours that daubed it! It was not the canvas
for such a picture.
Yet there the picture was--in red and yellow, black, white, and blue;
there stood the deep-dyed villain.
I saw not his rival; I looked for him, but saw him not. Perhaps he was
one of those who stood around?--perhaps he had not yet come up? He was
the son of the head-chief--perhaps he was inside the lodge? The last
was the most probable conjecture.
The great calumet was brought forward and lit by the fire; it was passed
around the circle, from mouth to mouth--each savage satisfying himself
with a single draw from its tube.
I knew that this was the inauguration of the council. The trial was
about to proceed.