"What is it?" questioned Natsatt.
"I have been wondering how you, a white man, can love Owindia. There must be so many maidens of your own race beyond the mountains of the rising sun. I know so little, while they must be so wise and beautiful."
"Oh, that's what's troubling you," Natsatt laughed, pressing her hands more firmly in his. "But I am as much an Indian, nay more so, than you are. I speak several Indian languages better than the English; I was born in the wilderness, and have spent most of my life there. And I am going to tell you something now which may astonish you. My father was a white man, but my mother was an Indian woman. So you see I am what is called a 'half-breed.'"
Owindia started at these words, and looked keenly into Natsatt's eyes to make sure that he was speaking the truth.
"But you seem like a white man," she replied. "Maybe you are laughing at Owindia in your heart."
"No, no, I am not," protested the young man. "What I tell you is true. People at times will not believe me because I look so much like a full-blooded white man. But surely you will believe me. Why should I lie to you?"
"I know now you tell me true when you look at me that way," and Owindia glanced shyly at him as she spoke. "My heart is, oh, so happy. It sings all the time."
In response to this Natsatt stooped, and imprinted a fervent kiss upon her lips. It was the first time that she had known a lover's kiss, and it thrilled her whole being. Owindia did nothing by halves. She was a creature of the wild. Her likes and dislikes were strong. When her heart was stirred it was intense, overwhelming. Lifting her long slender arms she twined them suddenly around Natsatt's neck, and laid her cheek against his. Never had she known such real happiness, not even in the days when her mother had enfolded her in her loving embrace.
And thus all through that day she lived in a world of dreams. Her mind was ever with Natsatt, and she pictured him speeding over the snow on his way down to the trading Post.
Her father did not notice her far away look, nor her abstracted manner, for he himself was lost in a world of deep thought. He sat hour after hour before the fire with his knees close up to his chin, staring straight before him. He only bestirred himself to replenish the fire or to eat his frugal meal which Owindia prepared. He sat in this position until midnight. Then he rolled himself up in his blanket and slept till morning. When he awoke his every movement spoke of definite action. Owindia was surprised to see him set to work to take down the numerous pelts from the walls and arrange them in two piles. Sometimes he would stand for a while as if debating with himself into which pile he would put certain valuable furs. When at last all the skins had been taken down he tied the two bundles together with stout moose-hide thongs.