In much bewilderment at what did pass,
Till thrice repeated noted not its sense.
She rose, and on the very brink defined,
Against the sky in silhouette outlined,
Erect before the Water-Demon stood.
Again those accents weird her wonder stirred,
And this is what the listening maiden heard:
“Thy fate, Winona, hangs on thine own choice
To scorn or heed the Water-Demon’s voice.
Gone are thy pleasant days of maidenhood,