medicine, which none but brave
Of noble birth may wear. Though thou
Art not of chieftain father bred,
Still yet thou art born noble. Take,
Janishkisgan, and to the top
Of Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog.
There let thine eye be keen, the path
Of open safety to descry;--
Use this plume of eagle plucked,
To point to us the way. We will
Prepare the arrows; grass and grain
Arrange, and make the fuel ready for
The flame upon the graves. When four
And twenty hours have passed, light thou
The fires upon the tombs, and keep
Them brightly burning till the ripe
Rich moon has emptied all its gold."

He hung the amulet about
Her throat--the medicine, a bag
Of dried, misshapen skin, that held
The healing herbs--a homely guise
That promised for them little worth;
For, so are virtues ofttimes clothed.

She raised her eyes to heaven, as one
Made free of fear and full of faith;
Then moved away, while marveled all
Who saw her glowing, peaceful face,
Not knowing that her heart held court
Within its inner self, as thus:
"I thank thee, milk-white bird, that guides
My path. E'en now Guteba's lips
Are ripe to burst with love of me.
I see it in his glance; I hear
It in his tones. My heart doth not
Respond. His presents are prepared
With which to buy me from my sire;
His wigwam waits his bride, but I
Will never follow there. Thou hast
Given me right, thou barbarous bird,
To say him nay, who loves him not;
For, where the handmaid must obey,
The maid who lights the sacred fire
And bears the medicine shall have
Her equal say. And should my life
Yield in my task, thou'rt kinder, Death,
Than wandering heart from wigwam fire."

The Chippeway band to safety moved,
Far toward the rising sun, and pitched
Their camp anew; then hoped, less hope,
For tidings of Janishkisgan,
That never came.

Guteba's face
The while was draped with care, his tongue
With sadness locked. To muffled ears
His wise men spake, when they implored
Him, for his honor's sake, to take
A wife--he being counted less
Than man by Redskin code, who sits
Within his teepee door, without
The serving squaw and papoose squawk.

Meantime the Great White Bird, from out
The North, came riding on the wind,
Its wings o'er heaven spread, and shed
Its down on hill and plain, the earth
In snow deep lying. Fasted then
Guteba long, and vowed unto
Himself that, cold in death or rich
In life, the maiden should be found;
Across his shoulder flung his bow