But while she lived, she was determined to bring sorrow upon her rival; she would not “sing in dying.”  That very evening did she repeat to the family of Sacred Wind the conversation she had overheard, adding that the love of the cousins was the true cause of Sacred Wind’s refusing to marry.

Time would fail me to tell of the consequent sufferings of Sacred Wind.  She was scolded and watched, shamed, and even beaten.  The medicine men threatened her with all their powers; no punishment was severe enough for the Dahcotah who would thus transgress the laws of their nation.

The Shield was proof against the machinations of his enemies, for he was a medicine man, and could counteract all the spells that were exerted against him.  Sacred Wind bore everything in patience but the sight of the Bear.  She had been bought and sold, over and over again; and the fear of her killing herself was the only reason why her friends did not force her to marry.

One evening she was missing, and the cries of her mother broke upon the silence of night; canoes were flying across the water; friends were wandering in the woods, all seeking the body of the girl.

But she was not to be found in the river, or in the woods.  Sacred Wind was not dead, she was only married.

She was safe in the next village, telling the Shield how much she loved him, and how cordially she hated the Bear; and although she trembled when she spoke of the medicine men, her husband only laughed at her fears, telling her, that now that she was his wife, she need fear nothing.

But where was the Swan?  Her friends were assisting, in the search for Sacred Wind.  The father had forgotten his child, the brother his sister.  And the mother, who would have first missed her, had gone long ago, to the land of spirits.

The Swan had known of the flight of the lovers—­she watched them as their canoe passed away, until it became a speck in the distance, and in another moment the waters closed over her.

Thus were strangely blended marriage and death.  The Swan feared not to take her own life.  Sacred Wind, with a nobler courage, a more devoted love, broke through the customs of her nation, laid aside the superstitions of the tribe, and has thus identified her courage with the name of her native village.

“THE DAHCOTAH BRIDE.”

The valley of the Upper Mississippi presents many attractions to the reflecting mind, apart from the admiration excited by its natural beauty.  It is at once an old country and a new—­the home of a people who are rapidly passing away—­and of a nation whose strength is ever advancing.  The white man treads upon the footsteps of the Dahcotah—­the war dance of the warrior gives place to the march of civilization—­and the saw-mill is heard where but a few years ago were sung the deeds of the Dahcotah braves.