“So now, children, away! The sun is sinking in the west; the hour of council is at hand, and I must leave you. Return to-morrow, and I will relate to you some other episode in the history of our tribe.”
The young people rose at the chief’s bidding, and with “thanks” and “good nights,” prepared to depart; Sansuta among the rest.
“Where are you going child?” asked her father.
“Only to the spring, father. I shall be back soon.”
As the girl said this, she turned, as if wishing to avoid her father’s gaze. The other people had all departed.
“Well,” said the old man, after a pause, “do not forget to return soon. I would not have you abroad after nightfall.”
She murmured a few words, and sauntered away from the spot.
Oluski did not immediately depart, but stood leaning against the spear that stood up in front of his dwelling.
The old man’s eyes were filled with tears, while a hand was laid upon his heart.
“Poor girl,” he reflected, as he watched her form disappearing in the fast darkening twilight; “she never knew her mother. I sometimes think I have been but a poor guardian of Sansuta’s steps. But the Great Spirit knows I have tried to do my duty.”