“Let her tell him all; what the queen has been promised shall come to pass before he leads her to the dwelling.”
It was the most bewildering thing that had ever happened to the old woman—she could not in the least comprehend it; but she placed the utmost faith in Mahaska’s words and waited patiently for their fulfillment.
She went back to the chief, and, without revealing her betrayal of his confidence, told him of Mahaska’s words, which filled his mind with wonder equal to her own.
Gradually it crept about among the people that the Spirit had promised to send rich gifts to their queen, and they regarded her with new awe and reverence.
There was more truth in the queen’s assertion concerning the promised gifts than appeared probable; although she certainly did not base her expectations upon any supernatural agency. She was left free in her actions; the only person who ever watched her movements was Gi-en-gwa-tah, and he did it only from the restlessness of his great affection. She was accustomed to take long rides in solitude—to row upon the lake night or day; but she did not fail to give even these relaxations a mysterious signification. She told the Indians that spirit-voices spoke to her, and in the wind that rocked her canoe upon the moonlit waters she held communion with the shade of her ancestor, the great prophet, Nemono. By these means she secured herself against intrusion; even Gi-en-gwa-tah would not have ventured to watch her movements at such times, for fear of bringing the anger of the Manitou upon himself by intruding upon those religious rites which he had been taught to venerate.
We have spoken of the plot which from the first had been forming in her mind to win the Six Nations from their alliance with the French, and carry their power over to the English in the warfare then imminent. This desire had been seconded in the most unexpected manner, while she was revolving means for obtaining communication with the English leaders. Her advent among the Indians already was a subject of much curiosity with the whites, and a politic English Governor determined to do every thing in his power to win her good offices in bringing to his side the assistance of the Indian tribes then pledged to the interests of the French.
Mahaska had gone out to ride in the forest; she was miles beyond the Indian village, galloping wildly along, feeling a sort of relief in the swift pace and freedom from all human observation. Suddenly a form started up before her in the path; she checked her horse and instinctively her right hand clenched the tomahawk which she always carried in her girdle, although she supposed it to be some one of her own tribe who had wandered there upon a hunting expedition. The savage, made signs of friendly greeting and approached her horse. As he drew near she recognized a half-breed whom she had known at Quebec—a man afterward discovered to be an English spy, but who had escaped punishment by a dextrous flight.
“Rene,” she called in French; “Rene.”
He bounded toward her, and with elaborate signs of respect began pouring forth a volley of delight at seeing her again.
“What brings you here?” she asked, checking his compliments.