 whose skin is neither red
nor pale.«
    A long and musing pause succeeded. The chief consulted, apart, with his
companions, and messengers were despatched to collect certain others of the most
distinguished men of the tribe.
    As warrior after warrior dropped in, they were each made acquainted, in
turn, with the important intelligence that Magua had just communicated. The air
of surprise, and the usual, low, deep, guttural exclamation, were common to them
all. The news spread from mouth to mouth, until the whole encampment became
powerfully agitated. The women suspended their labours, to catch such syllables
as unguardedly fell from the lips of the consulting warriors. The boys deserted
their sports, and walking fearlessly among their fathers, looked up in curious
admiration, as they heard the brief exclamations of wonder they so freely
expressed, at the temerity of their hated foe. In short, every occupation was
abandoned, for the time; and all other pursuits seemed discarded, in order that
the tribe might freely indulge, after their own peculiar manner, in an open
expression of feeling.
    When the excitement had a little abated, the old men disposed themselves
seriously to consider that which it became the honour and safety of their tribe
to perform, under circumstances of so much delicacy and embarrassment. During
all these movements, and in the midst of the general commotion, Magua had not
only maintained his seat, but the very attitude he had originally taken, against
the side of the lodge, where he continued as immovable, and, apparently, as
unconcerned, as if he had no interest in the result. Not a single indication of
the future intentions of his hosts, however, escaped his vigilant eyes. With his
consummate knowledge of the nature of the people with whom he had to deal, he
anticipated every measure on which they decided; and it might almost be said,
that in many instances, he knew their intentions even before they became known
to themselves.
    The council of the Delawares was short. When it was ended, a general bustle
announced that it was to be immediately succeeded by a solemn and formal
assemblage of the nation. As such meetings were rare, and only called on
occasions of the last importance, the subtle Huron, who still sate apart, a wily
and dark observer of the proceedings, now knew that all his projects must be
brought to their final issue. He, therefore, left the lodge, and walked silently
forth to the place, in front of the encampment, whither the warriors were
already beginning to collect.
    It might have been half an hour before each
