She remembered the story her mother had frequently told her of the maiden, who long ago had offered up her life to save her people. She had been thrilled by the tale, and often she had recalled it as she sat alone in the lodge out in the wilderness. At times she had thought that she herself would like to do such a deed as that, and she pictured the pride which would thrill the hearts of her own people as they related the story to their little ones around the camp fires. That was the dream; but here was the stern reality with none of the golden halo of romance.
Such were the ideas which occupied her mind as she crouched there in the corner. But when she had leaped to her feet, and diverted the blow of the descending axe she became firmly convinced as to the course she should pursue. After her father's wild action she well knew that the Chilcats would give no quarter unless something intervened, and that something must be herself. She watched the messenger receive the axe, and as he left the lodge she glided silently after him out into the night. He was moving toward the forest, but paused when he heard the light steps behind. The reflection of the fire dimly illumined his features, which expressed surprise at the sight of the maiden. For an instant Owindia's heart faltered, but seeing that the Indian looked not unkindly upon her, she took courage and glanced up beseechingly into his face.
"What does the Ayana squaw want?" the messenger questioned, noting her embarrassment.
"Will the Chilcat braves wait until to-morrow?" she asked in a low voice. "Will they stay until then from making the attack?"
"Why does the squaw request this?" was the reply. "Why should the Chilcats wait? Klukwan has the Ayana chief's answer. See, here is the token of battle," and he held forth the hunting axe.
"Ah, ah. Owindia knows. But there is another way. If the Chilcat braves will wait until to-morrow night just as the sun is sinking beyond the tops of the trees, Owindia will be at the great white rock in the valley with a different message."
"And what will that message be?" the Chilcat queried. "The chief's son must know, or else he will think that Klukwan is a sly fox, and is playing with him."
"Tell the chief's son," and here Owindia straightened herself up in a firm dignified manner, "that his heart's desire will be there."
"What! the Ayana squaw?"
"Ah, ah."