“Back to your wigwam now, and bury your dead!” cried Girty, in triumph.
Alaska regarded him in silence.
He repeated the command.
“Alaska moves not hence without the Pale Flower’s blood,” she at length replied. “Her braves are on the war-path, and at their head, marches the great Tecumseh, against whom the White Wolf dare not stand. They will return ere yon ball of fire again rises over the hills. Then, let the White Wolf fear, then will Alaska have the Pale Flower’s heart. Here she will remain until Tecumseh comes,” and she seated herself upon the ground, in the midst of her wolves.
At the mention of Tecumseh’s name, Girty’s guard exchanged looks of fear. The great chief was on ill terms with the renegade, and, fearing to incur the anger of Tecumseh, several braves deserted Girty, and went over to the mad-woman.
“Be firm!” cried Girty, lowering upon the disaffection. “They who stand by me shall be rewarded, and Tecumseh will act justly when he comes.”
This retained a goodly portion of his guard.
The long hours wore away, both parties longing, yet fearing, for the night.
Oonalooska knew that Tecumseh would favor the Wolf-Queen, and, with a determined resolve in his heart, he stepped into the lodge, where knelt a trembling girl, praying to her God for deliverance.
He touched her arm.