many years he wandered through the air with the sons of the thunder
bird; like them he was ever fighting against the friends of Unktahe.

"With his own hand he killed the son of that god, and for that was he
sent to earth to be a medicine man. But long ago we have said that the
time should come, when we would destroy him from the earth. It is for
you to take his life when he sleeps. Can a Dahcotah woman want courage
when she is to be forced to marry a man she hates?"

The waters closed over the fairy as he disappeared, and the waves beat
harder against Harpstenah's feet. She awoke with the words echoing in
her heart, "Can a Sioux woman want courage when she is to be forced to
marry a man she hates?" "The words of the fairy were wise and true,"
thought the maiden. "Our medicine-men say that the fairies of the water
are all wicked; that they are ever seeking to do harm to the Dahcotahs.
My dream has made my heart light. I will take the life of the war chief.
At the worst they can but take mine."

As she looked round the teepee, her eye rested upon the faces of her
parents. The bright moonlight had found its way into the teepee. There
lay her father, his haughty countenance calm and subdued, for the "image
of death" had chased away the impression left on his features of a
fierce struggle with a hard life. How often had he warned her of the
danger of offending Cloudy Sky, that sickness, famine, death itself,
might be the result. Her mother too, had wearied her with warnings. But
she remembered her dream, and with all a Sioux woman's faith in
revelations, she determined to let it influence her course.

Red Deer had often vowed to take the life of his rival, though he knew
it would have assuredly cost him his own. The family of Cloudy Sky was a
large one; there were many who would esteem it a sacred duty to avenge
his death. Besides he would gain nothing by it, for the parents of
Harpstenah would never consent to her marriage with the murderer of the
war chief.

How often had Red Deer tried to induce the young girl to leave the
village, and return with him as his wife. "Have we not always loved each
other," he said. "When we were children, you made me mocassins, and
paddled the canoe for me, and I brought the wild duck, which I shot
while it was flying, to you. You promised me to be my wife, when I
should be a great hunter, and had brought to you the scalp of an enemy.
I have kept my promise, but you have broken yours."