Costumes: Flesh-colored tights and skins of animals.

Rash Daring is writhing on the ground in agony. Fleet Foot runs toward him with water in her cupped hands. On the ground lies some brightly colored fruit.

Fleet Foot. Here, my brother, drink the pure water. It may allay your suffering. Oh, that ye had heeded my words, my brother!

She kneels beside Rash Daring, and tries to force him to drink. Then smooths his brow with her moistened fingers. Suddenly Rash Daring’s body jerks spasmodically; then is still.

Fleet Foot (seizing his hands in terror). Look at me! Speak to me, my brother! (Cries aloud.) O father! father!

Strong Arm rushes in, takes in picture at a glance, and kneeling beside Fleet Foot, examines the body of the boy.

Fleet Foot. What shall I do, father? Shall I fetch more water?

Strong Arm. Nay, little daughter. There is nothing to be done. Your brother is dead.