It was a wonderful manifestation of
affection.
Suddenly Glickhican, the old Delaware chief, stepped on the
platform, raised his hand and shouted one Indian word.
A long, low wail went up from the children and youths; the women
slowly, meekly bowed their heads. The men, due to the stoicism of
their nature and the Christianity they had learned, stood proudly
erect awaiting the death that had been decreed.
Glickhican pulled the bell rope.
A deep, mellow tone pealed out.
The sound transfixed all the Christians. No one moved.
Glickhican had given the signal which told the murderers the
Christians were ready.
"Come, man, my God! We can't stay here!" cried Jim to Zeisberger.
As they went out both men turned to look their last on the martyrs.
The death knell which had rung in the ears of the Christians, was to
them the voice of God. Stern, dark visages of men and the sweet,
submissive faces of women were uplifted with rapt attention. A light
seemed to shine from these faces as if the contemplation of God had
illumined them.
As Zeisberger and Jim left the church and hurried toward the cabins,
they saw the crowd of savages in a black mass round Girty's teepee.
The yelling and leaping had ceased.
Heckewelder opened the door. Evidently he had watched for them.
"Jim! Jim!" cried Nell, when he entered the cabin.
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