An animal does not hesitate, and he is a
fool who deliberates in dealing with him. I tasted desolation as I
stood there.
A moccasin stepped behind me. "I killed him," said Singing Arrow's
voice.
I turned. She was terrible to look at. Life had given this savage
woman strength of will and soul without training to balance it. She
was Nemesis incarnate. Yet blood-stained and tragic as was her face,
her words were calm.
"He killed my man."
What was there to say? It was only her look that showed she had been
through tempests; in mind she seemed as numbed as I. I took her by the
arm and led her outside. I turned away from the blood-soaked camp, and
took her to the beach where the water was yellow-white and rippled on
the sand. I motioned her to wash away the blood stains on her face and
arms. Then I spoke.
"Singing Arrow, do you intend to kill yourself and follow Pierre?"
She drew her blanket high and folded her arms. "Yes, if he calls me.
When I dream of him twice I shall know that he is crying for me and
cannot rest, so I shall go after him. I have dreamed once
already,--after I killed the Huron. When I dream once more I can go."
I touched her arm. "Look at me.
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