But it is true.
Our blood has made us of one race and parentage." "It is the truth," he said.
"Then tell me her name, that I may write it to my friend in Albany." "I do not know it," he said quietly.
"She never told you ?" "Never," he said.

"Listen, Loskiel.

What I now tell to you with heart all open and my tongue unloosened, is all I know of her.

It was in winter that she came to Philipsburgh, all wrapped in her red cloak.

The White Plains Indians were there, and she was ever at their camp asking the same and endless question." "What question, Mayaro ?" "That I shall also tell you, for I overheard it.