"Well, listen to me, then."
"I will, but be brief."
"I will tell you this girl's history."
"You know her then?"
"I do."
"Go on; I am all attention."
Bright-eye drew up a bench, eat down with an air of dissatisfaction, and, after a moment's reflection, began.
"Just fifteen years ago, Natah Otann, who was hardly twenty years of age, but already a renowned warrior, left his tribe, at the head of some fifty picked warriors, to attempt a coup de main on the Whites. At that period, the Kenhas did not live where they now are; the Fur Company had not advanced so far on the Missouri, and Fort Mackenzie did not exist. The Blood Indians hunted freely on the vast territories from which the Americans have since expelled them. Up to that moment, Natah Otann had never been the commander in chief of an expedition; like all young men of his age and circumstances, his brow shone with pride; he burned to distinguish himself, and prove to the sachems of his nation that he was worthy to command brave warriors. So soon as he entered on the war trail, he scattered his spies in every direction, and even forbade his men smoking, lest the light of their pipes might betray his presence. In short, he took, with extreme wisdom, all the precautions employed in similar cases. His expedition was brilliant; he surprised several caravans, and plundered and burned the clearings; his men returned laden with booty, and the bits of their horses garnished with scalps. Natah Otann only brought back, as his share, a weak creature of two or three years of age at the most, whom he bore tenderly in his arms, or laid on the front of his saddle. That child was the tall and lovely girl you saw today."
"Ah! Is she white or red, American or Spanish?"
"No one knows; no one will ever know. You are aware that many Indians are born white, thus colour is of no avail in finding her relations again. In short, the chief adopted her; but, strange to say, as she grew up, she gained such an ascendency over Natah Otann's mind, that the chief of the tribe grew alarmed; besides, the life led by Prairie-Flower—that is her name—"