dark valley, an unexpected
messenger from the Great Father, showing him beforehand a glimpse of
the beauty and tenderness of the Land Beyond. Yet even if a spirit,
she wore a human shape, and she would have human needs. She would be
often in danger against which she must be guarded.

"Wahneenah, fetch me the bow and quiver."

"Which?" she asked, in surprise, though in reality she knew.

"Is there one that should be named with mine? The White Bow from the
land of eternal snow; the arrows winged with feathers from the white
eagle's wing,--light as thistle down, strong as love, invincible as
death."

The Spotted Adder had been the orator of his tribe. Men had listened
to his words in admiration, wondering whence he obtained the eloquence
which moved them; and at that moment it was as if all the power of his
earlier manhood had returned.

The White Bow was well known among all the Pottawatomie tribes. Even
the Sacs and Foxes had heard of it and feared it. It was older than
the Giver's historic necklace, and tradition said that it had been
hurled to earth on the breath of a mighty snowstorm. It had fallen
before the wigwam of the Spotted Adder's ancestor and had been handed
down from father to son, as fair and sound as on the day of its first
bestowal. None knew the wood of which it was fashioned, which many
could bend and twist but none could break. The string which first
bound it had never worn nor wasted, and not a feather had ever fallen
from the arrows in the quiver, nor had their number ever diminished,
no matter how often sped. It was the one possession left to the
neglected warrior and had been protected by its own reputed origin.
There were daring thieves in many a tribe, but never a thief so bold
he would risk his soul in the seizure of the White Bow.

Wahneenah felt no choice but to comply with the Indian's command. She
took the bow and its accoutrements from the sheltered niche in the
tepee where it hung; the only spot, it seemed, that had not been
subjected to the destruction of the elements. She had never held it in
her hand before, and she wondered at its lightness as she carried it
to its owner, and placed it in the gnarled fingers which would never
string it again.

"Good! Call the child to stand here."

With awe, Wahneenah motioned the little one within the red man's
reach. The last vestige of fear or repulsion had vanished from her own
mind before the majesty of this hour.

"Does the poor, sick