Half-breeds, dissolute renegades, and Indians, they pushed
and peered and in many a face was already burning the excitement of her
beauty, especially those of the savage Bois-Brules.
McElroy prayed aloud to God for the heavens to fall, for some great
disaster.
But soon it became apparent that something of importance was to take
place. A hundred headmen gathered in knots and there was dissension and
brawling and once near a riot, while the girl stood in a circle of
malodorous, leering humans with her back against a tree, warding off
hands with man-like blows.
There was no order in the tribe. Negansahima, whose iron hand had ruled
with power and justice above the average, was dead. The new chief had
not yet come into power with fitting ceremony, and thus the old men of
the tribe were for the moment authority, and, as too many cooks spoil
the broth, so too many rulers breed dissension.
But finally a conclusion was reached.
A hundred hands scurried into preparation and the shouts were filled
with anticipation.
In the open space a post was set up, tall as a man's head and some two
feet thick, adzed flat on one side and painted in two sections,
perpendicularly, one half in red, the other in black.
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