I obeyed. He took my horse to lead him
away. My heart grew small within me. I felt, on parting with my horse,
as if my last friend was gone. I had no words, and my eyes were dry. As
he led off my horse a young brave stepped forward. 'Are you a chief of
the people?' cried he. 'Do we listen to you in council, and follow
you in battle? Behold! a stranger flies to our camp from the dogs of
Blackfeet, and asks protection. Let shame cover your face! The stranger
is a woman, and alone. If she were a warrior, or had a warrior at her
side, your heart would not be big enough to take her horse. But he is
yours. By right of war you may claim him; but look!'--his bow was
drawn, and the arrow ready!--'you never shall cross his back!' The arrow
pierced the heart of the horse, and he fell dead.
"An old woman said she would be my mother. She led me to her lodge; my
heart was thawed by her kindness, and my eyes burst forth with tears;
like the frozen fountains in springtime. She never changed; but as the
days passed away, was still a mother to me. The people were loud in
praise of the young brave, and the chief was ashamed. I lived in peace.
"A party of trappers came to the village, and one of them took me for
his wife. This is he. I am very happy; he treats me with kindness, and
I have taught him the language of my people. As we were travelling this
way, some of the Blackfeet warriors beset us, and carried off the horses
of the party.
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