burned with red hot spears—­and had not even betrayed a sense of pain—­ in order to attain the rank of a great counselor, and the privilege of attending the Sachem as one of his guard of honor—­did not shrink when his barbarous physician burned a blister on his chest with red-hot ashes, and scarified the horny soles of his feet till the blood flowed plentifully.  Those, and strong emetic herbs, which he forced his patient to repeat until he fainted away, constituted the medical treatment of Tisquantum:  but much greater benefit was expected—­and, such is the power of imagination in these ignorant savages, that it was often attained—­from the practice of his charms and conjurations.

As soon as Tisquantum saw his noble patient reduced to a state of unconsciousness by his physical treatment, he commenced a course of spiritual incantations.  In a fierce and unnatural voice, he called on Hobbamock, or Satan, who he declared was visible to him in one of his many forms of an eagle, a deer, a fawn, and sometimes a gigantic human being.  He then adjured the evil spirit, and commanded him to remove the disease; promising, in return, to offer to him skins, and hatchets, and even the scalps of his foes.  If any signs of returning consciousness appeared, the Powow speedily banished them by a repetition of his wild howling, which he continued for hours, at the same time throwing himself about with wild and unnatural gestures, and striking his hands violently on his legs, until he became as much exhausted as his unlucky patient.

It was during one of these awful exhibitions of heathen cruelty and superstition, that Henrich one evening drew nigh to the lodge of Terah, accompanied by Oriana; and paused at the open entrance, in amazement and horror at the scene he beheld.  The dying man lay stretched on the ground, in the center of the outer room of the hut, where he had been placed that he might enjoy the full benefit of the great Powow’s skill.  His eyes were closed and his gray hairs hung matted end disordered on the ground, while his emaciated features appeared to be fixed in death.  A frightful wound was on his breast, and blood was trickling from his lacerated feet; while the involuntary contractions of his limbs alone denoted that he was yet alive, and sensible to suffering, which he was now unable to make any effort to conceal.  Around the walls of the hut stood many of his relatives and dependants, whose countenances expressed anxiety and hope, mingled with fear of the priestly Sachem.

Among the bystanders, Henrich instantly recognized his friend Jyanough; and he shuddered to see the ingenious and inquiring youth assisting at such satanic rites.  But the figure that chiefly attracted his attention, and to which his eyes became riveted, was that of Tisquantum—­the father of his gentle and beloved Oriana!  There stood the Sachem:  he whose countenance he had seldom seen disturbed from his usual expression of gravity and composure, and