"I am grieved, Waqua, that thou, on my account, shouldst have been the object of the ruffian's rage. Its possibility occurred not to me."
"Let not my brother grieve," said the Indian. "It is nothing; not so much as the scratch of a bear's paw."
"I take blame to myself for this day's unhappy violence, and hope that no further mischief may spring out of it. Will my brother grant me a favor?"
"The ears of Waqua are open," said the savage.
"Promise me, for my sake, to seek no revenge, but to leave it in my hands."
But the Indian looked moodily on the ground. "Waqua," he said, "will kill his enemies himself."
"If," continued the young man, "my brother knew that an attempt to punish the bad white man would bring ruin on the maiden and on me, would he be willing to destroy them too?"
"Waqua will do no harm to his brother."
"Waqua's heart and mine are one, and he has a wise head. He sees that the arms of the English are very long, and their hands strong, and he will not run into them, for they will crush him."
"My brother shall see the inside of Waqua. Let him look up. Behold, the sun shines because he is the sun, and the wind stirs the forest leaves because he is the wind, and water runs, and fire burns, because the Master of Life made them thus; and so the Indian will never forgive, for then would he cease to be an Indian. But Waqua will do nought to injure his brother."