It was now autumn; the forest wore the latest glory of its gorgeous coloring. Already the leaves lay strewn like a rich carpet about the paths of the wilderness; the wind caught a deeper and more mournful tone, but the air was still balmy and soft, for the sunlight lay warm and pleasant over the beautiful lake. It seemed as if the soft autumn weather was lingering to the latest moment, unwilling to yield the last traces of its beauty to the chill embrace and desolation of winter.
Meanwhile Mahaska was floating on toward the full tide of success in her schemes; her control over the people increased a manner that was magical, and the brave Gi-en-gwa-tah, with all his bravery, was chief among her adherents and her servitors. The nature this untutored savage appeared lifted out of itself by the love which filled his heart; reason did not control his feelings, for Mahaska, as a woman, was so entirely set apart from all other women that reverence and worship appeared her due. She was satisfied with her influence over him, but her quick perception perceived one fact—if the fulfillment of her wishes stood between him and that which his stern sense of honor considered just, she was certain to meet the most resolute opposition in her husband. When that reflection occurred, the repulsion which she had from the first harbored toward the chief, gained strength. But there was no trace of these feelings in her manner; she grew more gentle and considerate, and fairly dizzied his strong senses with the numberless fascinations she cast about him.
Gi-en-gwa-tah was sorely troubled in his mind concerning the manner in which the new dwelling was to be arranged. He had visited Quebec, seen luxurious dwellings in several other cities, and knew what Mahaska had a right to expect; but the attainment of his wishes was not easily reached. He consulted with his intimate friends, and they held long conversations, which would have amused and astonished those accustomed only to the stern, hard side of the Indian character.
Gi-en-gwa-tah owned a rich store of furs and sundry valuables which he had received from white traders in return for skins, and it was decided between the two that these should go toward the adornment of the mansion, although the chief was, by no means, satisfied, and his old mother, Meme, who had now become an inmate of his lodge, according to the usage of the tribe, took a true feminine delight in adding to his perplexities. She had promised to keep his secret faithfully, and above all not to reveal to Mahaska the doubts which disturbed his mind; but the old woman soon found an excuse for informing her son’s wife of every word he had said the first time they were alone.
“Gi-en-gwa-tah fears that Mahaska will pine for the luxuries that the pale-faces love,” she said.
“The queen has a right to live like a sovereign,” she answered; “would they have her sit on the ground like a squaw of burthen?”
“Gi-en-gwa-tah has many furs; he will make cushions for Mahaska; the fire-places in her great lodge would each hold a wigwam.”
“The Great Spirit will send all that the queen needs,” said Mahaska.
The old woman looked at her wonderingly. She firmly believed in the supernatural destiny of her new-found daughter.
“The Great Spirit will send power and victories,” she said.