"What a miracle are you in your forest masquerade!" "Am I truly fine to please you, Euan ?" I said, disturbed, but striving to speak lightly: "Little Oneida goddess in your bridal dress, the Seven Dancers are laughing at me from your eyes; and the Day-Sun and the Night-Sun hang from your sacred girdle, making it flash like silvery showers of seawan.

Salute, O Watcher at the Gates of Dawn! Onwa oyah! Na-i! A-i! Lois!" And I drew my light war-hatchet from its sheath and raised it sparkling, in salute.
She laughed a little, blushed a little, and bent her dainty head to view her finery once more, examining it gravely to the last red quill sewed to the beaded toe-point.
Then, still serious, she lifted her grey eyes to me: "I seem to find no words to thank you, Euan.

But my heart is--very--full----" She hesitated, then stretched forth her hand to me, smiling; and as I touched it ceremoniously with finger-tip and lip: "Ai-me!" she exclaimed, withdrawing under shelter.

"It is raining, Euan! Your rifle-shirt is wet already, and you are like to take a chill! Come under shelter instantly!" "Fancy a man of Morgan's with a chill!" I said, but nevertheless obeyed her, set the lantern on the puncheon floor, brushed the fine drops from thrums and hatchet-sheath, rubbed the bright-edged little axe with buck-skinned elbow, and wiped my heavy knife from hilt to blade.
As I looked up, busy with my side-arms, I caught her eye.

We smiled at each other; then, as though a common instinct stirred us to caution, we turned and looked silently toward the settle in the corner, where the widow sat brooding alone.
"May we speak freely here, Lois ?" I whispered.
She cast a cautious glance at the shadowy figure, then, lowering her voice and leaning nearer: "I scarcely know whether she truly heeds and hears.