“In a moment he was gone. I, who had heard for long days no friendly voice and who, hidden within my heart, carried no little of my mother’s tenderness, sank upon the spot where I was standing and wept for joy.
“That night the youth was burned beneath the Judgment Tree.
“At last arrived the day when I must die; for none had come whom I could choose, and the strong words of the dead youth had helped me to endure. At sunrise of the fatal day, my father called a meeting of his people. Me he led before them into the shadow of the dreaded oak. When every woman and man and child had come into his presence, he spoke briefly:
“‘This maid, no longer child of mine, has refused to do my will. She shall die; but she shall die as befits the time when she moved among you, the daughter of a chief. When the moon rises full, come again into this place.’
“To me he said no word, nor looked upon me. All the long hours till night I spent in secret dread, but with no signs of fear upon my face. When night approached I robed myself as now, and when the messengers came to lead me to my death, I walked erect and calm as I had done in days of yore. As we passed the spot whereon my mother’s teepee once had stood, I thought I saw her there with hand upraised in blessing. I felt no longer dread or fear.
“Beside the tree where I had stood in judgment twice before, was reared a lofty pyre. Thither I walked and with firm step mounted to its top unbound; for the proud heart of my father knew that I would never quail, even before the deadly flames. He, clad in the garments of his rank, stood beside the towering mass, and when I reached its summit he gave a gesture of command. At once a slow and mournful dirge began, but it was one of curses, not of grief.
“Then gathered round the spot all whom I had known in youth and childhood—warriors whose favor I had slighted; maidens jealous of my power; women who had known my mother and despised her for her gentleness and beauty; children, half-grown youths who looked in taunting wonder. On all their faces was visible exulting joy. Long the fearful dirge continued, and with each succeeding measure the looks of hatred and of triumph deepened.
“When at last the dread midnight came and passed, my father hushed the crowd to silence. Then he stooped and lighted my pyre with his own hand. Once only his eyes sought mine, and in that loveless glance I saw—not pity, but unbounded pride. As the flames rose high around me, then, indeed, the frenzied triumph of the crowd below burst from all bonds. They danced and shouted and waved their clumsy weapons in the air.
“Suddenly a crash louder than the loudest thunder, broke through the shouts of wild excitement. A rumble followed, growing every moment nearer. The men and women threw themselves upon the ground and shrieked with terror. The fire at my feet was quenched. A lurid mist encircled Tahquitch Mountain. The moon’s light was covered with a cloud. Then a voice from out the darkness hushed to frightened stillness the cries of the prostrate people.
“‘O child of noble heart,’ it said, ‘you have been true. Your reward shall be beyond the thought of mortals.’