"They are low and crooked, and they spread themselves over the ground as
do our English oaks," the young nobleman informed her.
As Wildenai had promised they discovered, poised high among the crags of
the wild southern shore, the great eagles of which she had told him,
measuring easily, from wing-tip to wing-tip, fully a dozen feet. The
white otter, rarest and most valuable of all the game hunted by her
people, eluded them, but many a small gray fox slipped away among the
bushes, leaving the Englishman tingling for the chase.
At twilight, as they made their way back to the cavern, they came upon a
tiny lake lying asleep within the crater of a dead volcano. From the
sides little clouds of ashes rose, floating softly away on the breezes
of evening. The princess gathered a handful and murmuring some musical
words in her own tongue she threw them into the air.
"And would it be amiss for me to ask what 'tis you do?" questioned her
companion, observing her closely.
"I was sending a prayer to Wakan-ate, the Great Spirit," she replied
quietly.
"A prayer, - and borne to heaven on the wings of ashes!" He seemed
amused. "But what hast thou to pray for, oh fair princess?"
Her cheeks glowing with quick color, she replied: "It were not fitting
that any maiden tell for what she prays!"
The words were spoken with such gravity that the young man flushed under
the rebuke.
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