ent in the hand of the gods.

Mechanically she performed her ordinary duties. The wood was cut and the
evening meal was, cooked; afterwards she cut down branches of trees, and
swept the wigwam. In the evening, the villagers had assembled on the
shores of the lake to enjoy the cool air after the heat of the day.

Hours passed away as gossipping and amusement engaged them all. At
length they entered their teepees to seek rest, and Harpstenah and her
mother were the last at the door of their teepee, where a group had been
seated on the ground, discussing their own and others' affairs. "No harm
can come to you, my daughter, when you are the wife of so great a
medicine man. If any one hate you and wish to do you an injury, Cloudy
Sky will destroy their power. Has he not lived with the Thunder Birds,
did he not learn from them to cure the sick, and to destroy his enemies?
He is a great warrior too."

"I know it, my mother," replied the girl, "but we have sat long in the
moonlight, the wind that stirred the waters of the spirit lake is gone.
I must sleep, that I may be ready to dress myself when you call me. My
hair must be braided in many braids, and the strings are not yet sewed
to my mocassins. You too are tired; let us go in and sleep."

Sleep came to the mother--to the daughter courage and energy. Not in
vain had she prayed to Haokah the Giant, to give her power to perform a
great deed. Assured that her parents were sleeping heavily, she rose and
sought the lodge of the medicine man.

When she reached the teepee, she stopped involuntarily before the door,
near which hung, on a pole, the medicine bag of the old man. The
medicine known only to the clan had been preserved for ages. Sacred had
it ever been from the touch of woman. It was placed there to guard the
medicine man from evil, and to bring punishment on those who sought to
do him harm. Harpstenah's strength failed her. What was she about to do?

Could she provoke with impunity the anger of the spirits of the dead?
Would not the Great Spirit bring terrible vengeance upon her head. Ready
to sink to the earth with terror, the words of the fairy of the waters
reassured her. "Can a Dahcotah woman want courage when she is to be
forced to marry a man she hates?"

The tumult within is stilled--the strong beating of her heart has
ceased--her hand is upon the handle of her knife, as the moonlight falls
upon its glittering blade.

Too glorious a night for so dark a dee