Wenona obeyed with alacrity her father's commands, at the same time glancing uneasily towards her two step-mothers, whose smothered wrath she knew would break forth at some future time. They sat silent on the ground in seeming submission to the will that wrested from them their rights, in favour of the child of a dead rival; but those accustomed to read the writing on a woman's countenance, could see they were rebelliously inclined, but were forced to conceal their vexation under a calm demeanour.
It was in August, "the moon that corn is gathered." Wenona had during the long day paid the penalty of her father's love; she had toiled unceasingly, though the sun scorched her face and bosom; the watchful eyes of her father's wives were upon her, and when he was absent, they hardly allowed her a moment's rest. Her young companions wondered at the little spirit she showed; but Wenona was of a peace-making disposition, and preferred submission to contention. The large bundles of corn she had gathered during the day were hanging outside the wigwam to dry. Not even had she allowed herself time to join the other girls, who were diving at noon in the cool waters, and raising their heads up to call Wenona, looking like mermaids as the water flowed from their long, unbraided hair.
It was not long before she placed before Iron Heart his evening meal, venison and boiled corn—while her face was so good-humoured, and her motions so easy and graceful, that one would suppose the wrath of the evil spirits themselves would have been disarmed, much less the anger of those to whose children she so often sung sweet lullabies. Iron Heart did not relish his food; but tasting the venison, then lighting his pipe, he appeared lost to what passed before him: he often looked in Wenona's face, with a strange repentant look, as if he had done her an injury, but sought to conceal it in his own bosom.
After a while he rose, and joined a group of warriors, who were seated without the wigwam, Wenona following in his protecting shadow, out of the reach of complaint or reproof.
The group that Iron Heart joined was composed of the principal men of the band, who were listening to the words of one of their wisest men. No one interrupted him, as he boasted of the feathers he had won, as he told of the bears and buffaloes he had destroyed; no one showed impatience as he dwelt upon the time when he was young, and all admired his feats of valour and strength. Respect and attention were on every countenance, as the white hair of the old man was lifted from his brow by the evening breeze.
He told them they had long been at peace with the Chippeways; their young men were becoming like women, without the ennobling and exciting employment of war. That the edge of the tomahawk was blunted for want of use. He said the Chippeways had again intruded on their hunting-grounds, and it was time that the war-cry of the Dacotas should be heard, to show their enemies their power.
The old man, who had lived nearly a century, ceased speaking, and The Buffalo, who leaned against a tree near the others, turned towards them, as if he, too, would speak.
"My words are not good, like the words of the aged; my voice is low, like the sound of the waters in a small stream, but the wise speak, and the sound of the Father of many Waters is in your ears. But our brave men say they are at peace with the Chippeways: they promised they would bury the hatchet deeper than the roots of our tallest trees; they said we would live together like friends, and that the war-cry only should be heard when we joined together against our enemies."
The old man prepared to answer him: his limbs shook with rage and excitement; he raised his finger, and pointed towards The Buffalo, then, when the crimson blood dyed his cheeks, he said, "Shame on the coward who fears his enemies: go gather corn with the women, and the old and feeble man will die with his tomahawk raised against those who hate his nation."
In vain The Buffalo essayed to speak: they would not hear him; and he left the council amid the sneers of all.