essly,
however, for Red Fox never came back, and nothing could be learned
as to his whereabouts.

It was during his convalescence that Isaac learned really to love
the Indian maiden. She showed such distress in the first days after
his injury, and such happiness when he was out of danger and on the
road to recovery that Isaac wondered at her. She attended him with
anxious solicitude; when she bathed and bandaged his wound her every
touch was a tender caress; she sat by him for hours; her low voice
made soft melody as she sang the Huron love songs. The moments were
sweet to Isaac when in the gathering twilight she leaned her head on
his shoulder while they listened to the evening carol of the
whip-poor-will. Days passed and at length Isaac was entirely well.
One day when the air was laden with the warm breath of summer
Myeerah and Isaac walked by the river.

"You are sad again," said Myeerah.

"I am homesick. I want to see my people. Myeerah, you have named me
rightly. The Eagle can never be happy unless he is free."

"The Eagle can be happy with his mate. And what life could be freer
than a Huron's? I hope always that you will grow content."

"It has been a long time now, Myeerah, since I have spoken with you
of my freedom. Will you ever free me? Or must I take again those
awful chances of escape? I cannot always live here in this way. Some
day I shall be killed while trying to get away, and then, if you
truly love me, you will never forgive yourself."

"Does not Myeerah truly love you?" she asked, gazing straight into
his eyes, her own misty and sad.

"I do not doubt that, but I think sometimes that it is not the right
kind of love. It is too savage. No man should be made a prisoner for
no other reason than that he is loved by a woman. I have tried to
teach you many things; the language of my people, their ways and
thoughts, but I have failed to civilize you. I cannot make you
understand that it is unwomanly--do not turn away. I am not
indifferent. I have learned to care for you. Your beauty and
tenderness have made anything else impossible."

"Myeerah is proud of her beauty, if it pleases the Eagle. Her beauty
and her love are his. Yet the Eagle's words make Myeerah sad. She
cannot tell what she feels. The pale face's words flow swiftly and
smoothly like rippling waters, but Myeerah's heart is full and her
lips are dumb."

Myeerah and Isaac stopped under a spreading elm tree the branches of
which drooped