"What seek you in the dwelling of Orono?" demanded the Indian woman with some asperity.
"Neither the squaw nor the papoose of the white man," replied Ossong, scornfully.
"It is well. You are in your native land, and can find the bones of your fathers; but here the poor squaw of the white chief is a stranger."
"And Orono will protect her," added the other savage, who bore that name, stepping proudly forward.
"The pawaws say our fathers come from the rising sun, and that we must go towards the place of its setting—-that there is the future home of the Red man," said Ossong, as a savage glare lit up his eyes and he played with his scalping-knife; "shall even one pale face be permitted to live, if such things are said? Go—Orono has become a woman!"
With this taunt, the most bitter that ca
