"Before cutting his bonds, listen to me, child," she said.
"Afterwards," the girl objected. "A Chief must be with his warriors in battle."
"Listen to me for a few minutes," She-wolf continued, earnestly; "I implore it of you, Prairie-Flower, by all I may have done for you; then, when I have ceased speaking, if you still wish it, you shall deliver that man. I swear to you that I will not prevent it."
The girl looked at her fixedly.
"Speak," she said, in her gentle and sympathizing voice. "Prairie-Flower is listening."
A sigh of relief escaped from the She-wolf's oppressed chest. There was a moment's silence: nothing could be heard, save the panting of the prisoner.
"You are right, girl," the She-wolf at length said, in a mournful voice, "that man took care of your infancy, was kind to you, and brought you up tenderly; you see that I do him justice! But he never told you how you fell into his hands."
"Never," the maiden said, in a melancholy voice.
"Well," the She-wolf continued, "that secret, which he has not dared to reveal to you, I will tell you. On just such a night as this, at the head of his ferocious warriors, the man you call your father attacked your real father, and while your two brothers, by that monster's orders, were burned alive, your father fastened to a tree, and there was flayed alive."
"Horror!" the young girl shrieked, as she sprang up.