“Yes,” answered Miskwa. “He told me so; and his heart was glad when he found you were here. ‘Sweet Flower,’” continued Miskwa, “will have a warrior young and handsome to protect her.”
“Oh, hush! Miskwa,” cried the captive. “Fire and water can never unite, nor the red with the white. I shall always be a lone bird without its mate; Oh! do not mention it, for my heart still bleeds over its earliest hopes.”
“Then I will not,” said Miskwa, “but thou art good enough for Pontiac, did he now live.”
The captive made no reply, being willing that Miskwa should continue to think as she did, namely, that her annunciation that the white and the red could never unite, arose from a belief on her part that by a red warrior she would never be wooed; and with a hope of finding out who it was that had inquired after her, for undefined apprehensions began to flit across her mind, she said, “Miskwa, do tell who seeks me?”
“I know not his name, nor why he comes,” said Miskwa. “He says he comes to see thee. It is not in anger. I will tell thee how I saw him?”
“Do,” said the maiden.
“When I left thee,” said Miskwa, “I hastened on after the deer I shot, and having found it, stooped down to bleed it. A moment passed while I was preparing. I heard a voice. It fell soft on my ears as the running of waters, and turning, I beheld a warrior near me with youth and joy beaming in his countenance. But come, go, he will tell thee his errand.” The captive refused, nor could Miskwa persuade her to go, when she requested her to seek her mother and tell her that a warrior was to be her visitor, while she would return and conduct him to her lodge.
The captive hurried away, and Miskwa returning to Oloompa, conducted him to her lodge. While proceeding along she learned the cause of Oloompa's errand, and she was wild with joy. She loved the captive maiden, and her heart fluttered with delight, when she recollected how happy her friend would be. There was nothing selfish in her disposition; she saw that they were to be parted, and yet she banished the thought and dwelt only on the happiness which awaited her friend. She was instantly acquainted with Oloompa; she was frank as if she had known him for years, and treated him with all the kindness of an old friend. If Oloompa was pleased with her before, he was charmed with her now; and scarcely giving him time to talk, she hurried him along to her lodge.
Arriving there, he was treated with courtesy, and Miskwa calling to “Sweet Flower,” bade her come out, since the warrior wanted to speak to her. She obeyed, and came out shrinking and frightened at she knew not what. Oloompa saw her hesitation, and knowing the cause, was not offended, but gently took her hand. She trembled from head to foot, and Oloompa began his narrative. The first words had scarcely been uttered, before her attention was arrested; she gazed first at Miskwa, and then at Oloompa, and as he proceeded, her soul drank in every word of the recital. When he mentioned that he had been sent in pursuit of her, and uttered the name of Rolfe. “Oh! tell me, tell me, is it true?” she cried. And not waiting for an answer, she looked into the face of the speaker, until she seemed to penetrate the very depths of his soul. Oloompa assured her it was true, and Gay fell weeping on the bosom of Miskwa. A few moments passed, and smiling through her tears, she laid her hand upon Oloompa's arm, and looking in his face, said, “Oh! tell me now! where you saw him, and what he said, and all, all, about him.” Oloompa went on with a farther detail of his narrative, until suddenly recollecting the little package, he loosed his belt to obtain it. “Go on, go on,” cried Gay, “please tell me all about him.” Oloompa withdrew the little parcel, and delivered it to her as coming from Rolfe. It was torn open in an instant, and as she gazed on his own signature, an exclamation of delight broke from her lips, and she ran to her apartment where she read over and over again those lines which were already imprinted upon her heart; pressed them to her lips, and upon Miskwa's entering her room, she again threw herself upon her bosom in a paroxysm of joy. But these moments passed; Gay became composed, and now all were happy. It was beautiful to look upon the affection which had sprung up between Gay and Miskwa; it was so pure, so holy, so deep, there was not even a wish, which the one would not willingly sacrifice for the gratification of the other. With Gay, the hopes which she had indulged in for so long a time, now shone brightly forth, and she saw the attainment of all her wishes, and she was joyously happy. And Miskwa, though always cheerful and contented, was now more so than she was wont to be; this arose partly from the increased happiness of her friend, and partly, because she derived some pleasure from the company of Oloompa.
Gay having retired to her apartment to read and muse over the letter which had given her so much joy, left Oloompa to be entertained by Netnokwa and Miskwa. He had much to communicate which served to interest them. In Netnokwa he found a willing and even eager listener to all the details relative to the present excitement among the Indians; and in the more agreeable company of Miskwa, he forgot his dreams of vengeance, and found that there were other things which could interest. When the night had far worn away, they all retired, and two happier beings than Miskwa and Gay were on that night were not to be found.