"See!" he said, pointing to the child; "it is a blossom of the clearings.
It will not live in the shade."
He then fastened a look on his trembling partner There was a husband's
love in the glance. "Flower of the open land!" he said; "the Manitou of
thy race will place thee in the fields of thy fathers. The sun will shine
upon thee, and the winds from beyond the salt lake will blow the clouds
into the woods. A Just and Great Chief cannot shut his ear to the Good
Spirit of his people. Mine calls his son to hunt among the braves that
have gone on the long path; thine points another way. Go, hear his voice,
and obey. Let thy mind be like a wide clearing; let all its shadows be
next the woods; let it forget the dream it dreamt among the trees. 'Tis
the will of the Manitou."
"Conanchet asketh much of his wife; her son is only the soul of a woman!"
"A woman of the Pale-faces; now let her seek her tribe. Narra-mattah, thy
people speak strange traditions. They say that one just man died for all
colors. I know not. Conanchet is a child among the cunning, and a man with
the warriors.
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