He could bear everything else; but when Walking Wind beat him
shooting--why--the point was settled; he must fall in love with her,
and, as a natural consequence, marry her.
Walking Wind was not so easily won. She had been tormented so long
herself, that she was in duty bound to pay back in the same coin. It was
a Duncan Gray affair--only reversed. At last she yielded; her lover
gave her so many trinkets. True, they were brass and tin; but Dahcotah
maidens cannot sigh for pearls and diamonds, for they never even heard
of them; and the philosophy of the thing is just the same, since
everybody is outdone by somebody. Besides, her lover played the flute
all night long near her father's wigwam, and, not to speak of the pity
that she felt for him, Walking Wind was confident she never could sleep
until that flute stopped playing, which she knew would be as soon as
they were married. For all the world knows that no husband, either white
or copper-colored, ever troubles himself to pay any attention of that
sort to his wife, however devotedly romantic he may have been
before marriage.
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