“Mahaska will lead forth the warriors; the people shall see that she is great in the battle-field as at the council-fire. Her soul thirsts for action; she will work out brave deeds with her own tomahawk.”
He attempted further expostulation, but she cried out:
“Is Gi-en-gwa-tah ashamed to fight by the side of a woman? Does he think Mahaska a coward?”
“Gi-en-gwa-tah loves Mahaska; he fears for her safety.”
“Nothing can harm her when she is protected by the Great Spirit,” she answered; “her enemies will flee her path like dust before the whirlwind. The prophet has spoken, and the queen will obey.”
Gi-en-gwa-tah still looked troubled, but he had learned the uselessness of opposition—he might as well have struggled against an earthquake as against the power of that woman’s will.
“The queen has much time for thought,” he said, calmly; “she will decide wisely.”
“She has decided! Did I not say that the prophet had come in dreams, saying: ‘Let Mahaska lead her warriors forth to the war-path—without her presence they will take no scalps, but will return feeble and broken, leaving half their number to be buried like dogs by their enemies.’”
“The Senecas have been always brave.”
“Is Mahaska to find opposition only in her own palace, from the father of her boy?” she exclaimed.