She ceased, and continued looking at him, without adding a word, as if
she had said enough, and awaited a reply.

"Why should Ohquamehud speak?" he said, at last; "the breath of the
Long Beard will blow away his words."

A look of vacancy overspread the face of the squaw, as if she failed
to apprehend his meaning.

"My brother's words are dark," she said.

"Has not the powawing of the Long Beard brought back the spirit
of Huttamoiden's cub from the happy hunting-grounds, and does not,
therefore, the face of Peéna turn to him as the sun-flower to the
sun?"

"The Great Spirit loves the Long Beard, and the Long Beard loves his
red brethren."

"What! a Yenghese love an Indian? Yes, as a wild-cat loves the deer
when he sucks his blood, as the water loves the fire it extinguishes.
The lips of Peéna speak foolishness."

"If Peéna feel grateful to the Long Beard, why should that anger her
brother? Could he look into her heart, he would see his face as in a
clear stream."

It was not in human nature to withstand the soft voice and pleading
looks of the woman. The momentary fierceness passed away from the