The three Shawnee belt bearers ate and drank in silence and dignity, and they appreciated the rest and refreshment so needful to those who had traveled far.

Neither did anyone else speak.

The venerable Gray Beaver sat on a couch of skins a little higher than the others, and his eyes rested steadily on the belt bearers.

The subchiefs, silent and motionless on their mats of skins, also watched the belt bearers.

At one end of the great room, in a kind of rude chimney, smoldered the council fire, a bed of coals.
More than half an hour passed, and when the guests had eaten and drunk sufficiently, the venerable chief waved his hands, and the remains of the food and drink were taken away.