Wenona had not hoped in vain, for her lover was with her, and Wanska seemed to be forgotten.

The warrior's flute would draw her out from her uncle's lodge while the moon rose o'er the cold waters.

Wrapped in her blanket, she would hasten to meet him, and listen to his assurances of affection, wondering the while that she had ever feared he loved another.
She had been some months at the village of Markeda, and she went to meet her lover with a heavy heart.

Her mother had noticed that her looks were sad and heavy, and Wenona knew that it would not be long ere she should be a happy wife, or a mark for the bitter scorn of her companions.
The Deer-killer had promised, day after day, that he would make her his wife, but he ever found a ready excuse; and now he was going on a long hunt, and she and her parents were to return to their village.

His quiver was full of arrows, and his leggins were tightly girded upon him.
Wenona's full heart was nigh bursting as she heard that the party were to leave to-morrow.