Nistina had many suitors, for was she not Sunmaker’s daughter, and tall and handsome besides? Mischievous Macosa, even after her marriage, kept her friend’s secret, but she could not forbear to tease her when they were alone together. “Hawk is a bad young man,” she said. “He has found another girl by this time. Why don’t you listen to Kias?” To such questions Nistina made no answer.
At the end of a year even Sunmaker, introspective as he was, could not fail to remark upon her loneliness. “My daughter, why do you seem so sad? There are many young men singing sweet songs for you to hear, yet you will not listen. It is time you took thought of these things.”
“I do not wish to marry,” she replied.
Then the old father became sorrowful, for he feared his loved one had placed her heart on some white soldier, and one day he called her to him and said: “My daughter, the Great Spirit decreed that there should be people of many colors on the earth. He called each good in his place, but it is not good that they mate one with the other. If a white man comes to speak soft words into your ears, turn away. He will work evil, and not good. Why do you not take a husband among your own people, as others do, and be content? You are of the age when girls marry.”
To this she replied: “My heart is not set on any white man, and I do not wish to marry. Let me stay with you and help to keep your lodge.”
The old man’s voice trembled as he said: “My daughter, since my son is gone, you are my staff. It is good to see you in our lodge, but I do not like to see you sad.”
Then she pretended to laugh, and said, “I am not sad,” and ran away.
When she was gone Sunmaker called Vetcora and told her what had happened. She smoked the pipe he handed to her and listened patiently. When he had finished speaking, she said:
“She will come round all right. All girls are not alike. By and by the true one will come, and then you’ll see her change her song. She will be keeping her own lodge soon.”