Bending–willow, who had not yet seen eighteen summers, was passionately fond of her young lord, who now returned her affection with an ardour equal to her own; this had moved the spite and jealousy of his two former wives, who took no pains to conceal their hatred of her; and although they dared not strike or ill–treat her as long as she remained the favourite, they endeavoured by every means in their power to vex and annoy her, and to bring her, by degrees, under the suspicion and distrust of their husband.
It was to obtain from Prairie–bird a medicine by which she might secure his continued affection, that Bending–willow had made this visit; and she had come stealthily by night, in hopes of escaping thereby the observation of her watchful colleagues.
During the horse–dealer’s recital, Prairie–bird glanced more than once at the young woman’s countenance, of which she was enabled by the red light of the wormwood torch that burnt near the centre of the tent, to distinguish the features and expression; both were remarkably pleasing and attractive, while the long black hair falling over her shoulders in two plaits, interwoven with beads of various colours, was set off by the delicate hue of the fawn–skin dress, which displayed to advantage the symmetry of her slight and graceful figure. Prairie–bird took her hand in silence, and the Crow girl fixed her eyes with guileless and admiring wonder upon the surpassing loveliness of the “Great Medicine of the tent,” which struck her the more forcibly, as she had come in the expectation of seeing a person decked out and ornamented after the fantastic fashion adopted among the Indian tribes by those who pretend to supernatural powers.
After a brief silence, Prairie–bird, addressing her visitor through the interpreter, said, “When the wives of the young chief scold and speak bad words to Bending–willow, what does she reply?”
“She gives them bad words again, sharper and harder than their own,” answered the bride hastily.
Prairie–bird shook her head, and continued, “Has Bending–willow watched their faces when they scold and heap angry words upon her? How do they look then?”
“They look ugly and spiteful as spotted snakes!”
“Bending–willow has come for a medicine to make the love of her husband endure fresh and green as the valleys watered by the Nebraska! Does she think he would love her if when he returns to his lodge he hears sharp angry tones in her voice, and sees spiteful looks in her countenance? The Great Spirit has made her face and voice sweet as the breath of the morning; if she makes them ugly and harsh, the medicine of Olitipa cannot preserve her husband’s love.”
The Crow bride cast down her eyes, evidently confused and puzzled by this address. At length she inquired, in a subdued tone, “What, then, is the counsel of Olitipa? What is Bending–willow to do when these sharp tongues scold and rail at her?”
Prairie–bird opened the volume that lay beside her, and answered, “The words of the Great Spirit are, ‘A soft answer turneth away anger!’ When the tongues of the women are bitter against Bending–willow, let her give gentle words in reply; they will be ashamed, and will soon be silent.”