“The Deer-killer is coming,” said another of the girls.  “He has been watching us; and now that he sees Wenona has gone away, he is coming to talk to Wanska.  He wears many eagle feathers:  Wenona may well weep that she cannot be his wife, for there is not a warrior in the village who steps so proudly as he.”

But he advanced and passed them indifferently.  By and by they separated, when he followed Wanska to her father’s teepee.

Her mother and father had gone to dispose of game in exchange for bread and flour, and the Deer-killer seated himself uninvited on the floor of the lodge.

“The teepee of the warrior is lonely when he returns from hunting,” said he to the maiden.  “Wanska must come to the lodge of the Deer-killer.  She shall ever have the tender flesh of the deer and buffalo to refresh her, and no other wife shall be there to make her unhappy.”

“Wanska is very happy now,” she replied.  “Her father is a good hunter.  He has gone to-day to carry ducks and pigeons to the Fort.  The promises of the Deer-killer are like the branch that breaks in my hand.  Wenona’s face is pale, and her eyes are red like blood from weeping.  The Deer-killer promised to make her his wife, and now that he has broken his word to her, he tells Wanska that he will never take another wife, but she cannot trust him.”

“Wanska was well named the Merry Heart,” the warrior replied; “she laughs at Wenona and calls her a fool, and then she wishes me to marry her.  Who would listen to a woman’s words?  And yet the voice of the Merry Heart is sweeter than a bird’s—­her laugh makes my spirit glad.  When she sits in my lodge and sings to the children who will call me father, I shall be happy.  Many women have loved the Deer-killer, but never has he cared to sit beside one, till he heard the voice of Wanska as she sang in the scalp-dance, and saw her bear the scalp of her enemy upon her shoulders.”

Wanska’s face was pale while she listened to him.  She approached him, and laid her small hand upon his arm—­“I have heard your words, and my heart says they are good.  I have loved you ever since we were children.  When I was told that you were always by the side of Wenona, the laugh of my companions was hateful to me—­the light of the sun was darkness to my eyes.  When Wenona returned to her village with her parents, I said in the presence of the Great Spirit that she should not live after you had made her your wife.  But her looks told me that there was sadness in her heart, and then I knew you could not love her.

“You promise me you will never bring another wife to your wigwam.  Deer-killer! the wife of the white man is happy, for her husband loves her alone.  The children of the second wife do not mock the woman who is no longer beloved, nor strike her children before her eyes.  When I am your wife I shall be happy while you love me; there will be no night in my teepee while I know your heart is faithful and true; but should you break your word to me, and bring to your lodge another wife, you shall see me no more, and the voice whose sound is music to your ears you will never hear again.”