SHOWING HOW WINGENUND FARED IN THE OSAGE CAMP, AND THE ISSUE OF THE DILEMMA IN WHICH PRAIRIE–BIRD WAS PLACED BY MAHÉGA.
We trust that the compassionate reader is now desirous to learn something more of the fate of Prairie–bird and her unfortunate brother Wingenund, whom we left a prisoner in the hands of the merciless chief of the Osages. For a long time after the latter had left her tent, his parting threat rung in her ears, that she must on the morrow give her consent to be his bride, or by her refusal consign Wingenund to a cruel and lingering death. Her busy imagination pourtrayed in vivid colours the scene of torture, and the heroic fortitude with which she knew he would endure it, and as she turned from that picture, the figure of Reginald Brandon rose to her view, as if upbraiding her with the violation of her plighted troth; torn by these contending struggles, the poor girl sobbed convulsively, and the tears forced their way through the fingers with which she in vain endeavoured, either to suppress or conceal them. Lita threw her arms round her mistress’s neck, and strove by her affectionate, yet simple, endearments to soothe her grief: for a long time they proved unsuccessful, but when at last she whispered,—
“The Great Spirit is very good; he is stronger than Mahéga; let Prairie–bird speak with him as she often did when the Black Father was with her—“
“True, Lita,” she replied, looking gratefully at the Comanche girl through her tears; “you remind me of what I ought not to have forgotten.”
The next moment, saw her prostrate upon her couch—the book of comfort in her hand, and her earnest prayers ascending toward Heaven.
She rose from her devotions with a calmed and strengthened spirit; the first result of which was a desire to converse with Wingenund, and to decide with him upon the morrow’s fearful alternative.
Mahéga willingly consented to the interview, justly believing that it would rather forward than retard his plan for compelling her consent, compared with which the boy’s life weighed not a feather in the balance, so he ordered him to be conveyed to her tent; and the guards who conducted him having informed her that if she unbound his hands, he would be instantly seized and removed, they retired to the aperture, awaiting the termination of the meeting with their habitual listless indifference.
Prairie–bird cared not whether they listened, as she spoke to her young brother in English, of which she knew that they understood little or nothing.
“Dear Wingenund,” she said, “you heard the threat uttered by that savage, after he struck you?”