But Wenona thought not yet of love.

The clear stream that reflected her form told her she was beautiful; yet her brother was the bravest warrior of the Sissetons; and her aged parents too--was not their love enough to satisfy her heart! Never did brother and sister love each other more; their features were the same, yet man's sternness in him was changed to woman's softness in her.

The "glance of the falcon" in his eye was the "gaze of the dove" in hers.

But at times the expression of his face would make you wonder that you ever could have thought him like his twin sister.
When he heard the Sisseton braves talk of the hunts they had in their youth, before the white man drove them from the hunting-grounds of their forefathers;--when instead of the blanket they wore the buffalo robe;--when happiness and plenty were in their wigwams--and when the voices of weak women and famished children were never heard calling for food in vain--then the longing for vengeance that was written on his countenance, the imprecations that were breathed from his lips, the angry scowl, the lightning from his eye, all made him unlike indeed to his sister, the pride of the Sissetons! When the gentle breeze would play among the prairie flowers, then would she win him from such bitter thoughts.

"Come, my brother, we will go and sit by the banks of the lake, why should you be unhappy! the buffalo is still to be found upon our hunting-grounds--the spirit of the lake watches over us--we shall not want for food." He would go, because she asked him.