“We must fly,” she at length murmured. “The Sunflower is now the wife of Wawandah, and she must seek another home. The White Bear will be here to-morrow, and never can the guilty one he loves bear to look upon his generous face again.”
“The Sunflower shall look upon him no more—no more dazzle the White Bear with the glare of her beauty,” answered the youth. “Far from this Wawandah shall erect his tent, and alone. No one but his wife shall know where he dwells, or share his solitude. He has no thought but of her. While she gladdens his sight with her presence, he will ask no more of the Spirit of Good. The camp is scarcely yet at rest. An hour before the dawn we will depart; and when the sun rises its fairest flower will have traveled far from the tent of the White Bear forever.”
“The heart of the Sunflower is full of gladness,” said the latter. “Never does she wish to behold the face of another warrior but Wawandah. She loves him because he has so long loved herself. Ah, how much must she love him, when she leaves the tent of the White Bear forever to fly with him. It is very wicked this. The Good Spirit will punish her, but her love for Wawandah is too great. She has not power over herself. She would not stay if she could. And now it is too late.”
At an hour before dawn Wawandah went stealthily forth. All was stillness in the camp, and only here and there was to be seen the flickering of some expiring fire, while the low growl of the dog, too vigilant to be quite silent, and yet too lazy to bark outright, greeted him as he passed outside the skirt of his encampment. Presently he arrived at an open space or sort of oasis in the forest, where were tethered many horses with great blocks of wood fastened to one of the fore fetlocks. Selecting two of the best looking and best conditioned of these, he put bridles upon them, and removing the unwieldy clogs, led them back to the door of the wigwam of the White Bear. This time the dogs did not suffer themselves to be disturbed. They seemed to recognize the horses, and to know that he who led them was of the tribe to the masters of which they belonged, and that the doubt they had in the first instance entertained no longer had existence. Leaving the horses standing quietly at the entrance, Wawandah went in. The Sunflower had put together every thing that could be conveniently placed in two bundles, and then, having thrown the rude saddles on the horses, Wawandah now fastened one to each crupper. The Sunflower was dressed in leggings of blue and the moccasins she was making when first Wawandah entered the tent. A man’s black hat, with a white plume thrust through the band, was upon her head, and a mantle of blue cloth, fastened by a large silver brooch, upon her shoulders. Her linen was white as the snow, and altogether her great beauty was adorned with the richest articles of her limited wardrobe, and in a manner befitting the occasion. While Wawandah, too, decked himself in his best and secured his faithful weapons and companions of the chase, she cut from the long hair she loosened for the purpose, a large tress, which she tied near the root with a blue ribbon, and fastened it to a nail within the wigwam door. This was a token to the White Bear that she still regarded even while she had deserted him for ever.
Wawandah pressed her again fondly to his heart. He was not jealous, but glad that the heart of the Sunflower bled for what she knew the White Bear would suffer at her loss. He raised her in his arms to the saddle she had been accustomed to use. Then carefully closing the door, and putting a stick over the wooden latch to secure it, he vaulted into the other. He then turned his horse, followed by the Sunflower, in the direction of the bathing ground, beyond which the course he intended to take lay, and as they passed, a beam from the moon which had then risen, glanced upon the form of the dead panther floating nearly on the spot where he had killed it.
The Sunflower gazed upon it with deep interest, for she felt that to that hideous beast was to be ascribed the eventful step which she had taken, and which was to decide the future misery or happiness of her life. Presently the encircling arm of Wawandah, who had reined in her horse, influenced by a nearly similar feeling, clasping her to his heart, seemed to admonish her of the intensity of joy he, too, had derived from the same cause.
That embrace refreshed and invigorated them. Once more, at the gentle bidding of Wawandah, the Sunflower put her horse into a gallop, and ere the dawn of day the camp of the Saukies had been left far behind.
——
PART SECOND.
At the distance of fifteen miles from the encampment of the Saukies, and on the same stream, was a small post, belonging to the Canadian North-West Company of that day. As was usual in that region, it was surrounded with a stockade, as a protection against any sudden attack of the Indians. The force within consisted principally of voyageurs, trappers, hunters, and, in fine, of men of such avocations as were connected with the fur trade, then in its highest stage of prosperity. The gentleman in charge was a Mr. Hughes, for many years subsequently, and even at this day, one of the British superintendents of Indian affairs. Besides the buildings which composed the post, there was a good deal of spare ground, which had been alloted for the security of horses and cattle, embraced within the picketings. Around this place the ground was denuded of trees, and nothing but a mass of shapeless stumps was to be seen extending for nearly half a mile in every way, except toward the front, which was bounded by the stream which divides it from the woods on the opposite bank.