He never knew whose hand had sped the shaft upon its deadly flight; but, when it was withdrawn from his body, the others had noted, rudely cut upon it, the form of a serpent, which was the token of Chitta (the Snake).  Thus had the Snake gained a bitter revenge for his overthrow, months before, in the games at the Feast of Ripe Corn.

Sad indeed was the return of Yah-chi-la-ne and his party to the pleasant village beside the great spring, in the land of the Alachuas.  The sight of the rescued captive was indeed greeted with joyous shouts of welcome; but they were hushed, almost ere they were uttered, as those assembled on the river bank noted the black paint with which, in token of mourning, the returning warriors had covered their faces.

In heavy-hearted silence did his comrades carry their dead back into the circle of lodges, from which he had departed so bravely and loyally to the rescue of his friend.  As they bore it into the lodge of Micco, his father, the old warrior sat as though all hope and joy had departed from his life forever; while outside, the air was rent by the wailings and bitter lamentations of women.

They laid him to rest, after the manner of his people, in a tomb built of great tree-trunks, so cunningly fashioned that no wild beast should ever disturb its contents.  Beside him they laid whatever he had possessed of value, and the things he had prized most highly.  The young girls of the tribe threw over the sleeping form great handfuls of sweet-scented wild flowers; and, ere the tomb was closed, Rene de Veaux placed in the calmly folded hands the scarlet feather, with the slender gold chain and pin attached to it, that had been a token between them.

As they finished the simple rites, and were about to turn away from the spot, the old chief, thus bereft of the pride and hope of his declining years, took the hand of the white lad in his, and, in a voice that faltered with his strong emotion said, so that all present could hear him,

“I have lost a son, and I have gained a son.  Has-se has gone from me, but Ta-lah-lo-ko has come in his place.  It is your chief who speaks, and as the son of your chief shall this lad dwell among you.”

Then the beautiful Nethla, taking Rene’s other hand, kissed him gently on the forehead, and said,

“In the name of him who has gone from us I welcome thee, Ta-lah-lo-ko, as a brother.”

As she spoke she offered him a Flamingo Feather, the same that had gleamed among the dark tresses of the dead lad.  Rene took it, and twining it in his own sunny curls, said, in a clear voice,

“As the son of a chief I wear this emblem.  Its significance has been made known to me, and, even as I vowed to him who lies yonder, I will, from this time forth, endeavor to act truly the part of a son to this old man.  I will never fail him or desert him until death shall part us.”