He sought the queen with his mind full of bitterness. She understood these signs of discontent the moment she looked in his face, and said, coldly:
“Gi-en-gwa-tah brings back more frowns than scalps from the war-path.”
The cutting sarcasm increased his irritation.
“The queen has done an evil thing,” he said, gloomily; “she has listened to the voice of lying spirits.”
Mahaska sprung to her feet in sudden fury. She had grown so accustomed to undisputed sway that even the slightest opposition roused her to terrible passion.
“Who comes into Mahaska’s presence with false words?” she cried. “Has Gi-en-gwa-tah drank too much fire-water on his bloodless war-path that he enters here with such folly on his tongue?”
“Gi-en-gwa-tah speaks wisely,” he answered, with quiet dignity. “The French are our brothers; Mahaska should not have urged the chiefs to break their long-respected pledge.”
“Is Gi-en-gwa-tah to come between the queen and her dreams?” she demanded. “Mahaska hears the words of wisdom from the lips of the great prophet—can Gi-en-gwa-tah translate them better than she? Let him beware how he opposes the wishes of the Manitou—how he brings shame on Mahaska!”
The chief looked in astonishment at the rage in her countenance—she was beginning to drop the mask which she had worn since their marriage.
“The red-men have no complaint to make against the French,” he urged.