The old woman smiled; she was touched and gratified by these words of affection.
“Mahaska shall be happy,” she said, “because she is kind to the aged woman; she loves her grandame.”
“When the spring comes, Ahmo will grow strong again,” urged the granddaughter.
The woman lifted her head warningly.
“Ahmo will never see the snow fall again; let not Mahaska deceive herself.”
She supported herself against the furs and motioned Mahaska to sit by her side. She sat for a long time silently regarding her, then she said:
“Mahaska will be a great queen; Ahmo only wishes to live long enough to witness her marriage with the chosen brave of her tribe.”
“Ahmo will surely live,” Mahaska replied, more touched than she had thought to be by the scene.
“She believes so,” said the woman; “Ahmo will watch over her from the spirit-land; let Mahaska be content.”
At last she rose as well as her feeble strength would permit and tottered away—she pressed a last kiss upon her grandchild’s forehead and made a sign of farewell as she turned to move away.