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Rh wreathed and eddied. The place was intolerably hot and close. As he took his seat, David glanced surreptitiously at Monapikot. The Pegan was silent and straight and motionless, and if he knew of David’s entrance he made no sign. Between the guests and the sachem, on the rush mats there, lay  the bundle they had brought. For some reason David’s eyes returned to it again and again in a fascination he could not have explained. After that first glance he avoided looking at Pikot lest sharp eyes should read  his thoughts. At a little distance, through the smoke haze, he saw Sequanawah, and,  in the background, the ancient Quinnapasso,  the latter apparently taking advantage of the  ceremonial silence to snatch a few winks of  sleep. David, wondering for what reason he had been summoned, waited seemingly unperturbed, but secretly much concerned.

At last the peace pipe completed its journey and was returned to the sachem, who laid it carefully on the floor at his feet. Then he pointed to the spokesman of the embassy. “You talk,” he said.

Obediently the Indian arose, cast a slow look about the wigwam, and then, facing the  sachem, spoke. Much of what he said was