"You must not stop at the instant of suspense," John Marshall urged above the heads of the others.
The ejaculations from the rest of the audience proved that they were in accord with him.
"The story is nearly finished," Lina continued.
"At daylight White Heart awakened. His resolve was steadfast. He would return to his people and confess that he had no wish to follow the law of his tribe. If, in the drawing of lots, the choice fell to him, he would not be chief. In any case he must become an outcast, following on the outskirts of his brother warriors as they went forth to battle, striving to heal their wounds.
"Rested and at peace, White Heart started to ascend the narrow trail that led from the heart of the canyon. He had gone but a few steps when a girl appeared before him. She was fairer than the girls of his own race, her long, light-brown hair fell to her shoulders and in her hand she carried an arrow, which she offered to White Heart.
"Gazing upon the arrow, he found it to be made of a shining metal with which he was unfamiliar.
"'The Silver Arrow represents wisdom and love. They are the true courage. Thy enemies shall not prevail against them.'
"The figure vanished. White Heart, the Silver Arrow in his clasp, climbed the hill and made his way to the tents of his people.
"There when the young warriors assembled after their long vigils White Heart was chosen chief.
"He kept the Arrow of Silver and afterwards became renowned for his wisdom and kindness. Other tribes sought alliance with his tribe until a great valley became filled with an industrious and peace-loving community. The Silver Arrow passed from one generation to the other."