f Taluta, on the
other side of the fire. Its odor was delicious to him, yet he hesitated
to eat of it.

"Fear not, kechuwa (my darling)! It will give you strength," said the
voice.

The maid was natural as in life. Beautifully attired, she sat up on her
bed, and her demeanor was cheerful and kind.

The young man ate of the food in silence and without looking at the
spirit. "Ho, kechuwa!" he said to her when returning the dish, according
to the custom of his people.

Silently the two sat for some minutes, while the youth gazed into the
burning embers.

"Be of good heart," said Taluta, at last, "for you shall meet my twin
spirit! She will love you as I do, and you will love her as you love me.
This was our covenant before we came into this world."

The conception of a "twin spirit" was familiar to the Sioux. "Ho,"
responded the warrior, with dignity and all seriousness. He felt a great
awe for the spirit, and dared not lift his eyes to her face.

"Weep no more, kechuwa, weep no more," she softly added; and the next
moment Antelope found himself outside the mysterious teepee. His limbs
were stiff and cold, but he did not feel faint nor hungry. Having filled
his pipe, he held it up to the spirits and then partook of the smoke;
and thus revived, he slowly and reluctantly left the sacred spot.

The main war-party also visited the old camp and saw the solitary teepee
grave, but did not linger there. They continued on the trail of
the caravan until they reached the new camping ground. They called
themselves successful, although they had left several of their number
on the field. Their triumph songs indicated this; therefore the people
hurried to receive the news and to learn who were the unfortunates.

The father of Antelope was foremost among those who ran to meet the
war-party. He learned that his son had distinguished himself in the
fight, and that his name was not mentioned among the brave dead.

"And where, then, is he?" he asked, with unconcealed anxiety.

"He left us three days ago to come in advance," they replied.

"But he has not arrived!" exclaimed old Wezee, in much agitation.

He returned to his teepee, where he consoled himself as best he could by
smoking the pipe in solitude. He could neither sing praises nor indulge
in the death dirge, and none came in either to congratulate or mourn
with him.

The sun had disappeared behind the hills, and the old man still sat
gazing into the burning embers, wh