“Has the white maiden come?” she demanded.
“The pale-face maiden is lying this moment in the lodge of Rushing Water.”
“When did she come?”
“Only a little ago.”
“She has come to her death. She must not see the light of the morning’s sun. Far better for her that she had died beneath the knife with kindred. Let the fatal draught be given her at once.”
“The hand of Nekomis has already held it to her lips, and she has drained it to the very bottom.”
“The heart of Minora is glad. She will soon be in the spirit-land.”
“She is there already. Even now she is lying on the couch of the chief, as pale and cold as the snow in winter.”
“Nekomis has done her work well. Minora will not forget what she owes to her when she goes to live in the lodge of the chief. Does Rushing Water know that the white maiden has left him forever?”
“No. He’s dreaming of her now in his sleep. He must not know it until the Wizard is told, and has come hither. Minora remembers the words he said. Let her fly to his home among the rocks and tell him that the white maiden is dead.”