CHAPTER V.
The feast given in honor of their medicine was celebrated the next day, and Cloudy Sky was thus relieved of the necessity of wearing mourning for his enemy.
His face was carefully washed of the black paint that disfigured it; his hair, plentifully greased, was braided and ornamented.

His leggins were new, and his white blanket was marked according to Indian custom.

On it was painted a black hand, that all might know that he had killed his enemy.

But for all he did not look either young or handsome, and Harpstenah's young friends were astonished that she witnessed the preparations for her marriage with so much indifference.
But she was unconscious alike of their sympathy and ridicule; her soul was occupied with the reflection that upon her energy depended her future fate.

Never did her spirit shrink from its appointed task.