But the eye of Hard-Heart was fastened on the distance, and
his whole air was that of one whose thoughts were entirely removed
from the present scene.
"The Siouxes are in council on my brother," the trapper at length
observed, when he found he could only attract the other's attention by
speaking.
The young partisan turned his head with a calm smile as he answered
"They are counting the scalps over the lodge of Hard-Heart!"
"No doubt, no doubt; their tempers begin to mount, as they remember
the number of Tetons you have struck, and better would it be for you
now, had more of your days been spent in chasing the deer, and fewer
on the war-path. Then some childless mother of this tribe might take
you in the place of her lost son, and your time would be filled in
peace."
"Does my father think that a warrior can ever die? The Master of Life
does not open his hand to take away his gifts again. When He wants His
young men He calls them, and they go. But the Red-skin He has once
breathed on lives for ever.
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