The Bridge of the Gods

home. From her the degraded medicine-men and dreamers caught a gleam of the majestic lore of Buddha; to the chiefs-in-council she taught something of the grave, inexorable j

spoke in council. Strange gatherings were those: blood-stained chiefs and savage warriors listening all intent to the sweetest

r daughter the heritage of her refinement and her beauty. 77 Wallulah was the only ch

ull of the scent of buds and flowers. Here and there a butterfly floated like a sunbeam through the woodland shadows, and a humming-bird darted in winged beauty from bloom to bloom. The

owed wood and sunny opening, the wa

he margin of a small lake. Several snow-white swans were floating on it; and near the edge of the water,

ned toward him, was sweetly feminine. The Indian type showed plainly, but was softened with her mother's grace. Her face was sad, with large appealing eyes and mournful lips, and full

w one uttered its note, and she listened, seeming to vibrate to the deep, plaintive cry; then she raised to her lips a flute that she held in her hands, and answered it with a perfect intonation,

!" said t

lash, her black eyes shone, her features glowed with joy and surprise. It was like the b

his hand, greeting him as her mother had taught her to

e fawn to its covert," replied the chief, with the faint semblance of a smile. All

nd hungry? Come to the lodge, and let Wallulah 79 gi

her with an abstracted gaze, his hand stroking her long, soft tresses. He was thinking of the darker, richer tresses of another, whos

ing him to unwonted tenderness and yearning. He had brought to her the spoils of the chase and of battle. The finest mat was braided for her lodge, the choicest skins and furs spread for her bed, and the chieftainess's string of hiagua shells and grizzly bear's claws had been put around h

and the warm place by the lodge fire, and the softest bearskin to rest on; and was she not the wife of Multnomah,-the 80 big chief's

l, even to Wallulah. Only his raven tresses, cut close year by year in sig

nd their long lingering note

my swans," said Wallulah,

crossed

at thing of sweet sounds,"-pointing to the flute. "Better be learning to think on the things a war-chief's daughter should car

ook died out

eplied sorrowfully, "and I try to obe

harsher, his hand cea

father in you? Remember the tales of the brave women of Multnomah's race,-the women 81 whose blood is in your veins. Remember that they spoke burning words

d sadness was on the beautiful face ag

e cannot change the heart the Great Spirit has given her. She cannot bring herself to be a woma

into his

way in which he bent the wills of warriors; "it is this that makes you weak

ruthless hands and its fragments flung into the lake; but W

If you break it you

up in revolt against the 82 Indian custom which forbade talking of the dead. Oh, if she might only talk with her father about her mother, though it were but a few brief words! Never since her mother's death had her name been mentioned between them. She lifted her eyes, pathetic with three years' hunger, to his. As their glances met, it s

er to her father's heart, even while his

ief spoke, this

s of plotters,-yes, and detect conspiracy when it is but a whisper in the air? Can you sway council and battle to your will as the warrior bends his bow? No; it takes men, men strong of heart, to rule the races of the Wauna. Therefore there is but one way left me whereby the line of Multn

confused and pained, by no means el

this,-that some time I mu

lower and her che

etim

have chos

know," she

was an expression on his face that showed he would n

ter of Multnomah could love no one but a chief. I have already selected a

g it cold and ashen; and her fingers wo

inued c

the Spokanes, our ancient foes, has said there would be peace between us if I gave you to him. But I have promised you to another. Your marri

mobility were gone from her face, and it was drooping and dull almost to impassiveness.

e you love? Speak it once,

the Cayuses," falter

ssion came into the gaz

daughter of a chief. Do not let me see your fa

f fear and dread, and her eyes fa

went out to her father in the mute supplication of her g

oy or surprise, came to her, and she raised his hand and kissed it. Was that all? Remember she had in her the deep, mute Indian nature that meets