“No!” she exclaims, after a pause, as she withdraws her gaze from the rock, the expression upon her face changing back to that of the jaguarete! “No, Spirit of the Waters! not yet. Nacena fears not to die, but that is not the death for the daughter of a Tovas chief. If wronged, she must resent it, and will. Revenge first, and the deceiver shall first die. After that, O Spirit, thou canst take me; Nacena will no longer care to live.”
As she says this, the sad look returns to her countenance, replacing that of anger; and for a time she stands with head drooped down to her bosom, and arms hanging listlessly by her side—a very picture of despair.
At length, she is about to leave the spot, when a footstep warns her of one making approach; and, turning, she sees who it is. A youth, but to manhood grown, and wearing the insignia of a sub-chief. Though many years older than herself, he is her brother.
“Sister!” he says, coming up to her, and closely scanning her face, “you have thoughts that trouble you. I would know what they are.”
“Oh, nothing,” she rejoins, with an effort to appear calm. “I’ve only been looking over the lake, at the birds out yonder. How they enjoy themselves this fine evening!”
“But you’re not enjoying yourself, Nacena; nor haven’t been for some time past. I’ve noticed that; and more, I know the reason.”
She starts at his words; not to turn pale, but with the blood mantling into her brown cheeks. Still she is silent.
“You need neither deny, nor declare it,” he continues. “’Tis all known to me, save one thing. That alone I wish to ask you about. I must have an answer, and a truthful one. As your brother I demand it, Nacena.”
She fixes her eyes upon him, in a look half-frightened, then timidly asks:
“What thing, Kaolin?”