The bright and
happy looks of yesterday were all gone. Her sister-in-law has hushed her
child to sleep, and she is resting from the fatigues of the day. Several
old men, friends of Little Crow's father, are sitting round the fire;
one has fallen asleep, while the others talk of the wonderful powers of
their sacred medicine.
"Why are you sad, Wenona," said the chief, turning to her; "why should
the eyes of a chief's sister be filled with tears, and her looks bent on
the ground?"
"You need not ask why I am not happy," said Wenona: "Red Cloud brought
presents to you yesterday; he laid them at the door of your wigwam. He
wants to buy me, and you have received his gifts; why do you not return
them? you know I do not love him."
"Red Cloud is a great warrior," replied the chief; "he wears many
feathers of honor; you must marry him."
The girl wrapped herself in her blanket and lay down. For a time her
sighs were heard--but at length sleep came to her relief, and her grief
was forgotten in dreams. But morn has come and they are to make an early
start. Was ever such confusion? Look at that old hag knocking the very
senses out of her daughter's head because she is not ready! and the
girl, in order to avoid the blows, stumbles over an unfortunate dog, who
commences a horrible barking and whining, tempting all the dogs of the
village to outbark and outwhine him.
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