ng whose keen sight

[Illustration]

So well had sped the arrow's flight,
A tall young brave stepped from the wood
And silently before her stood.
He gazed enraptured on her face,
Her womanly charms, her youthful grace;
And when he spoke, it was to tell
The flattering things that win so well.
She saw that he was one who fought
Against her father's tribe, but naught
Availed that knowledge for defense
Against his passionate eloquence,
And ere they parted on that morn
Within her breast young Love was born.
They met again, and many times,
As young hearts have in many climes.
At last, upon a starry night,
Unable longer to resist,
She gave up all and took her flight
And went with him where he might list.
While they had lingered in their love,
The stars had swiftly marched above--
And thus it chanced that on their way
They met the heralds of the day.
Her lover led through forests dim,
He brought her to the river bank;
His light canoe, all tight and trim,
He drew from grasses tall and rank.
They pushed away; no time was lost,
And soon the placid stream was crossed.
Again they plunged among the trees.
Although no doubt had power to seize
Upon the maiden's heart, she feared
And wondered that her brave appeared
To lose his wonted care; she knew
'Twas strange to leave their tried canoe,
But went, unquestioning, and thought
His deeds would bring her fears to naught.
To her astonishment, he led
Her from the forest's sheltering spread
Into a small and star-lit glade,
And, turning to her, softly bade
Her fear not, for a warlike band
Encompassed them on every hand.
They were her lover's friends in arms,
The war paint on their faces filled
Her faithful breast with wild alarms,
For she herself would fain be killed
A thousand times than that her flight
Should lead her own to death that night.
She clasped his arm with trembling hand,
And lifted to his bold black eyes
A look he could but ill withstand--
Love's first reproach, doubt's first surmise.
From cold, white lips her question broke:
"Why do we thus these warriors meet
So near the lodges of my folk?
Why do you thus their presence greet?"
Before his tongue could make reply,
A burly warrior, standing by,
Strode forward, and, with murderous look,
His tomahawk before her shook,
And fiercely said: "I am Two Bear;
Great chief am I! 'Tis sweet to tear
The craven hearts and drink the blood
Of Two Bear's foes; a big red flood
Shall flow from coward Sioux, this mor