But, that last look, could he ever forget it?
He tried to console himself with the thoughts of his triumph.

Alas! her smile was sweeter than the recollection of revenge.

He had waded in the blood of his enemies; he had trampled upon the hearts of the men he hated; but he had broken the heart of the only woman he had ever loved.
In the silence of the night her death-cry sounded in his ear; and he would start as if to flee from the sound.

In his dreams he saw again that trustful face, that look of appeal--and then the face of stone, when she saw that she had appealed in vain.
He followed the chase, but there he could not forget the battle scene.
"Save me! save me!" forever whispered every forest leaf, or every flowing wave.

Often did he hear her calling him, and he would stay his steps as if he hoped to meet her smile.
The medicine men offered to cure his disease; but he knew that it was beyond their art, and he cared not how soon death came, nor in what form.
He met the fate he sought.