"Who art thou?" demanded the mother, in a voice that was tremulous with
the emotions of that sacred character. "Speak, mysterious and lovely
being--who art thou?"
Narra-mattah had turned a terrified and imploring look at the immovable
and calm form of the chief, as if she sought protection from him at whose
hands she had been accustomed to receive it. But a different sensation
took possession of her mind, when she heard sounds which had too often
soothed the ear of infancy, ever to be forgotten. Struggling ceased, and
her pliant form assumed the attitude of intense and entranced attention.
Her head was bent aside, as if the ear were eager to drink in a repetition
of the tones, while her bewildered and delighted eye still sought the
countenance of her husband.
"Vision of the woods!--wilt thou not answer?" continued Ruth. "If there
is reverence for the Holy One of Israel in thine heart, answer, that I may
know thee!"
"Hist! Conanchet!" murmured the wife, over whose features the glow of
pleased and wild surprise continued to deepen. "Come near, Sachem, the
Spirit that talketh to Narra-mattah in her dreams, is nigh.
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