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There was also a very tasty, unleavened bread that was served. The distinctive bread was derived from corn flour and contained an abundance of dried berries within it, the latter adding an appreciable amount of flavor.

Wild greens of a few varieties were included in the evening’s fare, as well as what looked to be several distinct types of edible forest roots. Also gathered in from the munificence of the surrounding forests were an assortment of nuts and berries.

A much smaller quantity of pigeon meat was presented, with evident pride reflected on the faces of the women tending to the seven guests of the village.

Logan sensed instantly that the fowl was considered to be a valued delicacy by the tribal people. As such, he feigned extra gratitude to the women, even though he found the deer and turkey meats much more suited to his own palate.

He largely ate out of a small wooden bowl, using his hands or a wooden spoon, the latter designed with a short, upright handle, surmounted with the carved figure of a bear.

The tribal women administering the feast smiled warmly, and appeared to be of a genuinely amiable disposition. The women encouraged the guests to eat heartily, as they tended to them from large kettles of brass and bulbous cooking pots of clay that were located within the broad chamber.

It did not take long before it became quite hazy in the crowded chamber. The air grew thicker as low ventilation impeded the efficient escape of smoke from the great central hearth fire.

Logan would not have initially guessed just how good the food tasted. The components of the meal were not especially fancy, in and of themselves. While not elaborate, each bite brought with it a wealth of pleasure, certainly when compared to the uncertain fare that he and the others had been recently facing, out on their own within the new world.

Logan was content to simply eat and observe their hosts, absorbing everything that he could about his new patrons. Their customs and practices were different from anything that he was used to, and he knew that specific meaning was woven deeply into their gestures and items.

Such meaning and ceremony had been made very apparent when Erika had accepted a special gift on behalf of the group, from Deganawida himself.

The medallion had been given to the otherworlders during a small ceremony that had taken place just before the feast. Crafted of a host of small bead-like shells, the flat, circular object was predominantly purple, with the exception of a white circle formed within the medallion’s center.

The shell medallion, according to Ayenwatha, had been given to the seven as a sign of fully open and truthful relations between themselves and the Onan tribe. The medallion was an emblem of the tribe’s sincere intentions toward the seven. The importance of the solemn gesture was not lost on Logan, and, from what he could tell, the others of his group also understood it clearly enough.

He could already sense that the spirits of the entire group had improved greatly since their arrival in the village. The short rest, the plenteous meal, and the symbolic extension of good intentions by the tribal people, in the form of the purple and white shell medallion, had indeed been a boon to their beleaguered hearts.

The prevailing mood of the villagers had also helped to reinforce the better feelings. They were jubilant, and not just because of the presence of the seven special guests.

The successful return of the war party was also being celebrated and commemorated at the feast. That exposed Logan and the other six to even more depths of tribal custom and cultural values.

After the presentation of the medallion, Logan and the others had been treated to several tribal songs, which were delivered in a rhythmic, chant-like fashion. Rattles of folded hickory bark, gourd rattles set upon short handles, and water drums, with hide drumming surfaces stretched upon cylindrical wooden bodies, accompanied the chorus of human voices.

The tones from the water drums were quite varied, which Logan had known was due to the amounts of liquid contained within them. The chants, and the rhythmic sounds of drums and rattles, gradually lulled him into a partially entranced state, as he immersed himself in the mesmerizing tribal music.

Only occasionally did he come out of his semi-trance, in order to ask a question, or instead listen to some brief explanation offered to him by Ayenwatha in regard to one of the chanted songs.

Logan had been fascinated when it was explained to him that there was a unique and personal nature to one of the performances then being delivered by a solitary male warrior. According to Ayenwatha, the man who was singing it before them was the only person who ever performed that particular song.

From what Ayenwatha had gone on to explain, the man had received the song directly from his father before him, and would one day pass it on to his own son.

Logan had been very curious about that particular song. His interest stemmed from the fact that he had recognized the man chanting the song, right when it had begun. The man was one of the warriors that had been among Ayenwatha’s war band, who had helped to escort Logan and the others back to the village.

The warrior had evidently performed some valorous acts in driving off some Gallean scouts that had been venturing deeper into the forest. He had killed three of the interlopers before they could reach the open ground beyond the forest’s edge. It had been his wife that had been given the pole with the multiple scalps.

The warrior, following his personal song, had then sung his full account of the martial deeds, laced within a story of the entire encounter.

To Logan, the overtly boastful song took on the open flavor of self-aggrandizement. Yet all the tribal listeners seemed to be quite enthralled with the warrior, and very pleased with the song nonetheless. It was as if the crowd’s willing embrace of the man’s lauding of his own deeds was a kind of recognition in itself.

Finally, the sequence of songs came to an end. The air within the open longhouse soon filled with laughter and conversation as the main portion of the meal ensued. Stomach rumbling, Logan had been very glad when the first portions of the feast were served.

“This is one of the best meals I’ve ever had!” Antonio exclaimed, his cheeks puffed up with an overly full mouth of the tender turkey meat.

As if to accent his words, juices trickled down each side of his stuffed mouth.

Ayenwatha grinned proudly at the compliment. “I am glad that our humble offerings please you, Antonio.”

“Very much so,” Antonio managed to articulate, despite having taken another plentiful bite of the turkey.

“We truly thank you,” Erika then said, looking to both Ayenwatha and Deganawida. “This is more than we could ever have hoped to expect when we were wandering around lost in the woods. It is a tremendous feast, and we are very grateful for it.”

From his expression, Deganawida seemed to be particularly amused by her comments.

“Thank you, Erika,” Deganawida responded. “With the threats of war, we have not been feasting often, and our hunters have been forced to be much more careful. We have not been able to undertake large deer hunts, though it was fortunate that some deer and turkey were recently taken. I had feared that we would not be able to extend to you a proper feast, given the troubles that you have been through.”

“This is far more of a feast than I’m ever used to,” Derek remarked, scooping up another heaping spoonful of the hominy.

“I hope we are not causing any burdens for you, if food is scarcer in these times,” Janus added in a conciliatory tone. “Please do not feel any pressure to do anything special for us. We are just happy to be your guests, and to have a safe refuge, and to have anything to eat. That’s enough for us.”