His clear-headed qualities, however, valued commercially, seemed hardly calculated to adorn the fireside.  In sensible cumbrous silence and disastrous eclipse he could only contemplate with dismayed aversion the palpable effect of Amoyah’s gay sallies of wit, his fantastic lies, his vainglorious boastings, and his wonderful stories, which seemed always to enchant his audience, the household of the damsel to whom in civilized parlance they were both paying their addresses.  These audiences were usually large, and far too lenient in the estimation of Tus-ka-sah.  First there was present, of course, Amoyah himself, seeming a whole flock instead of one Pigeon.  Then must be counted Altsasti, who although a widow was very young, and as slight, as lissome, as graceful as the “wreath” which her name signified.  She was clad now in her winter dress of otter skins, all deftly sewn together so that the fur might lie one way, the better to enable the fabric to shed the rain; the petticoat was longer than the summer attire of doeskin, for although the tinkle of the metal “bell buttons” of her many garters might be heard as she moved, only the anklets were visible above her richly beaded moccasins.  She seldom moved, however; sitting beside the fire on a buffalo rug, she monotonously strung rainbow-hued beads for hours at a time.  Her glossy, straight black hair was threaded with a strand of opaque white beads passing through the coils, dressed high, and copiously anointed with bear’s oil, and on her forehead she wore a single pendant wrought of the conch-shell, ivory-white and highly polished.  She maintained a busy silence, but the others of the group—­her father, sometimes her mother and grandmother and the younger sisters and brothers—­preserved no such semblance of gravity, and indulged in appreciative chuckles responsive to Amoyah’s jests, idly watching him with twinkling eyes as long as he would talk.

It would be difficult to say how long this might be, for there were no windows to the winter houses of the Cherokees; in point of architecture these structures resembled the great dome-shaped council-house, plastered within and without with red clay; the floor was some three feet lower than the surface of the ground outside, and the exit fashioned with a narrow winding passage before reaching the outlet of the door.  The sun might rise or set; the night might come or go; no token how the hour waxed or waned could penetrate this seclusion.  The replenishing of the fire on the chimneyless hearth in the centre of the floor afforded the only comment on the passage of time.  Its glow gave to view the red walls; the curious designs of the painted interior of the buffalo hides stretched upon them, by way of decoration; the cane divans or couches that were contrived to run all around the circular apartment, and on which were spread skins of bear and panther and wolves, covering even the heads of the slumbering members of the household, for the Cherokees slept away much of the tedious winter weather.