the warrior saw.
Softly she spoke to the sullen brave:
"Mah-pi-ya Duta--his face is sad;
And why is the warrior so glum and grave?
For the fair Wiwaste is gay and glad;
She will sit in the _teepee_ the live-long day,
And laugh with her lover--the brave _Hohe_
Does the tall Red Cloud for the false one sigh?
There are fairer maidens than she, and proud
Were their hearts to be loved by the brave Red Cloud.
And trust not the chief with the smiling eyes;
His tongue is swift, but his words are lies;
And the proud Mah-pi-ya will surely find
That Wakawa's promise is hollow wind.
Last night I stood by his lodge, and lo
I heard the voice of the Little Crow;
But the fox is sly and his words were low.
But I heard her answer her father--'Never!
I will stain your knife in my heart's red blood,
I will plunge and sink in the sullen river,
Ere I will be wife to the dark Red Cloud!'
Then he spake again, and his voice was low,
But I heard the answer of Little Crow:
'Let it be as you will, for Wakawa's tongue
Has spoken no promise--his lips are slow,
And the love of a father is deep and strong.'

"Mah-pi-ya Duta, they scorn your love,
But the false chief covets the warrior's gifts.
False to his promise the fox will prove,
And fickle as snow in _Wo-ka-da-wee_, [37]
That slips into brooks when the gray cloud lifts,
Or the red sun looks through the ragged rifts.
Mah-pi-ya Duta will listen to me.
There are fairer birds in the bush than she,
And the fairest would gladly be Red Cloud's wife.
Will the warrior sit like a girl bereft,
When fairer and truer than she are left,
That love Red Cloud as they love their life?
Mah-pi-ya Duta will listen to me.
I love him well--I have loved him long:
A woman is weak, but a warrior is strong,
And a love-lorn brave is a scorn to see.

"Mah-pi-ya Duta, O listen to me!
Revenge is swift and revenge is strong,
And sweet as the hive in the hollow tree;
The proud Red Cloud will avenge his wrong.
Let the brave be patient, it is not long
Till the leaves be green on the maple tree,
And the Feast of the Virgins is then to be--
The Feast of the Virgins is then to be!"

Proudly she turned from the silent brave,
And went her way; but the warrior's eyes--
They flashed with the flame of a sudden fire,
Like the lights that gleam in the Sacred Cave[38],
When the black night covers the autumn skies,
And the stars from their welkin watch retire.

Three nights he tarried--the brave Chaske;
Winged were th