But, as they arrived, singly and in little groups, such a silent rage possessed me that I could scarce control my rifle, which quivered to take toll of these old neighbors who were returning by stealth at night to murder us in our beds.
The Saguenay lay in the wild grasses on my left; the little maid of Askalege, in her naked paint, lay on my right hand. Her forefinger caressed the trigger of her new rifle; the stock lay close to her cheek. And I could hear her singing her Karenna in a mouse's whisper to herself:
"Listen, John Drogue,[16]
Though we all die,
You shall survive!
Listen, John Drogue,
This will happen,
And it is well,
Because I love you.
"Why do I love you?
Because you are a boy-chief,
And we are both young,
Thou and I.
Why do I love you?
Because you are my elder brother,
And you speak to the Oneidas
Very gently.
"I am a prophetess;
I see events beforehand;
This is my Karenna:
Though we all die tonight,
You shall survive in Scarlet:
And this is well,
Because I love you."
So, crooning her prophecy, she lay flat in the wild grasses, cuddling the rifle-stock close to her shoulder; and her song's low cadence was like the burden of some cricket amid the herbage.
"Tharon alone knows all," I breathed in her ear.
"Neah!" she murmured; and touched her cheek against mine.
"Only God knows who shall survive tonight," I insisted.
"Onhteh. Ra-ko-wan-enh,"[17] she murmured. "But I have seen you, niare,[18] through a mist, coming from this place, O-ne-kwen-da-ri-en.[19] And dead bodies lay about. Do you believe me?"