"Has Tonda forgotten? Does he not remember the voice which once was music to his ears?"
"Nadu! Is it Nadu?" and the man straightened himself up. "What does Nadu care about Tonda? Nadu has left her people. She has joined the pale face intruders. She lives now among the Hishu 'dogs.'"
"Ah, ah!" Nadu replied. "Tonda speaks true. The Hishus are dogs, but they are swift-footed dogs, and do not bark before they bite. Let the Big Lakes beware, for the Hishu dogs are roused, and their fangs are long and keen."
"Why does Nadu say all this?" Tonda replied. "Does she not live among the Hishus, and knows her own people no longer?"
"Nadu is a child of Wabanda. His blood flows in her veins. His spirit is hers. Nadu has not forgotten her people; she would go back to them. She would go with Tonda."
"And did Nadu take the canoe?" questioned the latter, as a suspicion of what had happened to the craft floated into his mind.
"Ah, ah; Nadu knows," was the low reply.
"And will Nadu come to-night?"
Tonda was eager now. This woman was fascinating him as of yore. He forgot how she had repulsed him for the white man. In her presence he was as a child.
"Nadu will not go to-night. Two sleeps and Nadu will be ready."