They know that their young wives will rejoice to see the scalps, as much as to know that the wanderers have returned.
When they are near their village the war chief raises the song of victory; the other warriors join their voices to his.

The welcome sound rouses the inhabitants of the village from their duties or amusements.
The warriors enter the village in triumph, one by one, each bearing the scalp he took; and the stout warrior, the aged woman, and the feeble child, all press forward to feast their eyes with the sight of the scalps.
There was a jubilee in the village for weeks.

Day and night did the savages dance round the scalps.

But how soon may their rejoicings be lost in cries of terror! Even now they tremble at the sound of their own voices when evening draws near--for it is their turn to suffer.

They expect their foes, but they do not dread them the less..