“Henceforth, even the memory of the Fox shall not desecrate Mahaska’s lodge,” she said; “his spirit is with the dark shadows that can never enter the happy hunting-grounds.”
She changed the subject, and began speaking of the expedition which was to take place.
“Gi-en-gwa-tah will lead the young braves,” she said; “Upepah has promised Mahaska. While he follows the war-path, and brings back her enemy’s scalp, Mahaska will work for him at the council; her chief shall be the greatest of the Six Nations.”
He listened eagerly to the visions of future greatness which she called up.
“Mahaska is happy,” he exclaimed, suddenly, giving utterance to some train of thought which had been called up by her words.
“Happy?” she repeated. “Why does Gi-en-gwa-tah ask idle questions?”
“It was no question,” he replied; “Gi-en-gwa-tah sees that she is content. Once he feared that the dark forest might look dreary to her. Mahaska, in the Governor’s palace, has been reared gently; he feared that she might regret all that she left behind in the white settlements.”
Mahaska’s brow darkened when her life among the whites was spoken of. She had left nothing there but a dead youth, crushed, under terrible hate and thwarted dreams. The dreams were buried deep in the past; the hatred she brought in her heart to the forest, to be nursed and strengthened until she should be able to make the loathed race feel its most deadly sting.
“Mahaska is among her people,” she said, proudly; “she has obeyed the will of the Manitou, and dwells among them as their queen. What should she regret?”
But his words recalled the one era in her life when tender emotions had for a time softened her heart. She looked at the Indian; she remembered the noble pale-face whom she had given a love intense with the passion and fire of her Indian nature; she remembered how she had been scorned and set aside for another: the hatred she had vowed against the man who had preferred another to her, was reflected toward the savage who had come between her and the lonely state which she had struggled to maintain, but which she had to forego in order to gain ascendency over the tribes. It was difficult for her to feign longer; she was young still, and her self-control could sometimes be shaken. At such times it was necessary to be alone, that no human being might suspect the tempest which stirred her whole nature to revolt.