And she rushed into the thicket, where she disappeared.
"Natah Otann," the maiden continued, turning to the Chief, who stood by her side, calmly and stoically, as if nothing extraordinary had happened; "I leave vengeance to the Great Spirit—a woman can only weep. Farewell! I loved you as that father you deprived me of. I do not feel the strength to hate you, I will try to forget you."
"Poor child," the Sachem replied, with much emotion; "I must appear to you very culpable. Alas! it is only today that I understand the atrocity of the deed of which I allowed myself to be guilty: perhaps, I may succeed one day in obtaining your pardon."
Prairie-Flower smiled sorrowfully.
"Your pardon does not depend from me," she said, "Wacondah alone can absolve you."
And, after giving him a parting glance of sadness, she withdrew slowly, and thoughtfully entered the wood.
Natah Otann looked after her for a long while.
"Can the Christians be right?" he muttered, when done; "do angels really exist?"
He shook his head several times, and, after attentively looking at the sky, in which the stars were beginning to shine,—
"The hour has arrived," he said, hoarsely; "shall I be the victor?"