s Wi-no-na Ska's pure spirit,
Who in freedom still was happy,
And they would not wound or harm her,
They would shoot no arrows at her,
Nor help feast upon her body.

Then O-kis-ko answered boldly;
"I will go and hunt this White Doe,
I will shoot from my own ambush,
I will take my fleetest arrow."
And the men and women wondered,
For they knew his former loving.

But O-kis-ko kept his secret,
Showed no one his new-made arrow;
'Round his shoulders threw a mantle
Made of skins of many sea-gulls,
So that he could hide his arrow,
And no mortal eye could see it
Till he sent it on its mission
Winged with magic, fraught with mercy.

Thus he went to Ro-a-no-ak,
Love, and hope, and faith impelling,
Conscious of his aim unerring,
Trusting in the arrow's power.

From Po-mou-ik came Wan-ches-e,
For the hunt and feast impatient,
Boasting of his skill and valor,
Saying in his loud vainglory:
"I will teach the braves to shoot deer,
Young men now are not great hunters,
Hearts like squaws they have within them,
Nothing fears them but a papoose."

Wan-ches-e had crossed the water[AB]
In the ships with wings like sea-birds,
And the Pale-Face Weroanza,
Whom he saw in her own country,
Him to please and show her friendship,
Gave an arrow-head of silver
To him as a mark of favor.

This he now brought proudly with him,
As of all his arrows fleetest;
Bearing in its lustrous metal,
As he thought, some gift of power
From the mighty Weroanza
Which would bring success unto him;
And the warriors all would praise him
As around the feast they gathered,
Saying as he walked among them:
"There is none like brave Wan-ches-e,
He can bend the bow with firmness,
He has arrow-points of silver,
And the White Doe falls before him."
And he polished well the arrow
Which he thought would bring him praises.

Where the deer were wont to wander
All the hunters took their stations,
While the stalkers sought the forest,
From its depths to start the deer-herd.

Near the shore Win-gin-a lingered
That he first might shoot his arrow,
And thus have the certain glory
Of the White Doe's death upon him.

By a pine-tree stood Wan-ches-e
With his silver arrow ready;
While O-kis-ko, unseen, waited
Near by in his chosen ambush,
Where he oft had watched the White Doe,
Where he knew she always lingered.

Soon the stalkers with great shouting
Started up the frightened red deer;
On they came through brake and thicket,
In the front the White Doe