"
The warriors applauded with loud "_Ho! Ho!_"[24]
And he flung the brand to the drifting snow.
Three times Wakawa puffed forth the smoke
From his silent lips; then he slowly spoke:
"Mahpiya is strong as the stout-armed oak
That stands on the bluff by the windy plain,
And laughs at the roar of the hurricane.
He has slain the foe and the great _Mato_
With his hissing arrow and deadly stroke
My heart is swift but my tongue is slow.
Let the warrior come to my lodge and smoke;
He may bring the gifts;[25] but the timid doe
May fly from the hunter and say him no."
Wiwaste sat late in the lodge alone,
Her dark eyes bent on the glowing fire:
She heard not the wild winds shrill and moan;
She heard not the tall elms toss and groan;
Her face was lit like the harvest moon;
For her thoughts flew far to her heart's desire.
Far away in the land of the _Hohe_[15] dwelt
The warrior she held in her secret heart;
But little he dreamed of the pain she felt,
For she hid her love with a maiden's art.
Not a tear she shed, not a word she said,
When the brave young chief from the lodge departed;
But she sat on the mound when the day was dead,
And gazed at the full moon mellow-hearted.
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