"What will the father give the Maqua that marries her?"
"Many beaver-skins, and much bear's meat--"
"Revenge against the Hurons who slew so many of his warriors in the last Beaver-Moon. He shall drink their blood in plentiful draughts, he shall eat their children roasted in the fire, and feed his men upon broth made of the flesh of their Braves[A]."
[Footnote A: These, as I before observed, are mere metaphors, signifying a deep revenge.]
"Dost thou know that she is a rattlesnake?"
"I care not, so she bring me as her portion the rich presents and the sweet revenge thou hast spoken of. Shall the Maqua behold the maiden?"
"He shall, but the father bids him remember one thing. When the marriage has taken place, let not the husband forget to cut off his wife's tail. Upon his remembering this injunction his life depends. If he forget it the bride will be a widow ere she is a wife."
With this the Spirit departed into the inner part of the cavern. He soon returned, bringing with him a huge unwieldy rattlesnake. "This," said he, as he came up to the Maqua, "is the maiden I spoke of, and the wife I have long destined for thee. She is rather fatter than need be--she will eat the less, however. Take her, thou hast been a good servant, and I owe thee a reward. Cayenguirago!"
"I warn thee once more that my daughter is very irritable and passionate, and withal so fond of admiration, that nothing in the shape of a leer comes amiss to her. She likes a good squeeze above all things. Evil, and the Father of Evil though I be, I am not so very wicked as to wish thee to marry a woman of that description without thy knowing what kind of treasure thou wilt possess."
"But thou hast promised me revenge against the Hurons, who slew so many of my warriors in the last Beaver-Moon: remember that." And the chief commenced his song, which ran thus:--
I shall taste revenge; I shall dip my hands in purple gore; I shall wet my lips with the blood of the men, Who overcame my Braves; I shall tinge the lake so blue With the hue which it wore, When I stood, like a mouse in a wild cat's den, And saw the Hurons dig the graves Of my Maquas good and true!
I shall build a fire Of hickory branches dry, And knots of the gum-exuding pine, And cedar leaves and cones, Dry stubble shall kindle the pyre. And there shall the Huron die-- Flesh, and blood, and bones! But first shall he know the pain Of a red-hot stone on the ball of his eye, And a red-hot spear in the spine. And, if he murmur a grain, What shouts shall rend the sky, To see the coward Huron flinch, As the Maquas rend him inch by inch?