more forcibly depicted on the human countenance, than as
they were now exhibited by these men, who had already,
in imagination, secured to themselves an easy conquest.
They were the warriors who had so recently been engaged
in the manly yet innocent exercise of the ball; but,
instead of the harmless hurdle, each now carried a short
gun in one hand and a gleaming tomahawk in the other.
After the first general yelling heard in the council-room,
not a sound was uttered. Their burst of rage and triumph
had evidently been checked by the unexpected manner of
their reception, and they now stood on the spot on which
the further advance of each had been arrested, so silent
and motionless, that, but for the rolling of their dark
eyes, as they keenly measured the insurmountable barriers
that were opposed to their progress, they might almost
have been taken for a wild group of statuary.

Conspicuous at the head of these was he who wore the
blanket; a tall warrior, on whom rested the startled eye
of every officer and soldier who was so situated as to
behold him. His face was painted black as death; and as
he stood under the arch of the gateway, with his white
turbaned head towering far above those of his companions,
this formidable and mysterious enemy might have been
likened to the spirit of darkness presiding over his
terrible legions.

In order to account for the extraordinary appearance of
the Indians, armed in every way for death, at a moment
when neither gun nor tomahawk was apparently within miles