“What is Wa-ain (white soul) to me? Do I not seek the prophet-voice of our people?”
Samoset’s eyes flashed fire upon the girl; he rose to his feet and motioned her to follow, saying, as he went:
“Does the squaw hope to deceive a chief? Do I not know thee? Do I not know that Hope Vines is to thee what the hazel is to the rattlesnake? Go thy ways, lest I condemn thee to the hoe and the paddle.”
Samoset loved Hope with a paternal tenderness and a religious reverence; and when he sought to secure her as a prophet, it was in accordance with these sentiments only, and he resolved to protect her from the animosity which he so well read in the mind of his imperious daughter. Returning to the council at length, he was ready to adopt measures to secure her person, and therefore listened to the reasons assigned for their belief in her supernatural gifts.
“Hardly do her feet touch the earth,” said a chief. “Her hair is the pearly hue of the spirit-land, fair as the snowy mist when the evening star nestles beside the young moon. Her eyes seek the stars, and like the eagle’s, penetrate the midday sun—she is a waif from the spirit-land. Her own people would subject her to toil, or to their foolish arts—they do not understand her. We see in her the gift of the Great Spirit—let us take her to worship.”
This speech was received with approval, and many were the devices suggested to accomplish this object. The chief turned to Samoset.
“Thy daughter is wise; she understands Wa-ain; let her be called.”
At a signal, Acashee approached with her hands folded, and with humble, downcast eyes, for the threat of her father had terrified her. She stood behind him in silence.
“Will it break the heart of Wa-ain to take her from her kind? Will she learn to forget them?”
Acashee shook her head.