"You really believe you may find this Land of Lost Souls out there"—he motioned over the scattered house-tops toward Hudson's River—"beyond the setting sun?"
"The ancient tales of my people say that I may," replied Ta-wan-ne-ars.
"And why not?" returned the governor. "God alone—and I say it with all fitting reverence—knows what lies beyond the wilderness country.
"Go, Ta-wan-ne-ars. Seek your Lost Soul. Even if you do not find the shadow land of Ata-ent-sic, you may find wonders that your people and mine have never dreamed of."
"Yes," said the Seneca. "Ta-wan-ne-ars will go. What is life but a search? Some men seek scalps. Some men seek beaver-pelts. Some men seek honors as leaders and orators. Some men seek truth.
"Ta-wan-ne-ars seeks his Lost Soul. He has no fear. He will go through Da-ye-da-do-go-war, the Great Home of the Winds, where Ga-oh, the Wind Spirit, dwells. He will go through Ha-nis-ka-o-no-geh, the Dwelling-Place of the Evil-Minded. He will go to the world's end if the Great Spirit will but guide his footsteps."
"Oh, I pray that you may find what you seek," cried Marjory, the tears in her eyes again. "But sure, you will stay with us a little while?"
"I will go at once, Sister Ne-e-ar-go-ye"—he called her the Bear in memory of her exploit in rescuing us from the False Faces—"now that I have seen my white friends."
"Stay with us a while," she pleaded.
"You would not ask me if you knew how my heart hungered for her whom I have lost," he answered.