The guards led him to a large and circular apartment and left him there alone.

This room was the council-room.

It contained nothing but a low seat and a knotted war-club.
Isaac heard the rattle of beads and bear claws, and as he turned a tall and majestic Indian entered the room.

It was Tarhe, the chief of all the Wyandots.

Though Tarhe was over seventy, he walked erect; his calm face, dark as a bronze mask, showed no trace of his advanced age.