The low sigh with which the Chippeway girl awoke from her deathlike trance, did not awaken We-har-ka. Starting up, she in a moment recalled the sad tragedy which had just been enacted before her eyes, yet she could not account for her being where she was. The wigwam was dark, except when illuminated by vivid flashes of lightning, which showed her the few articles of furniture and comfort that adorned an Indian woman's home. The occasional pealing of the thunder, and We-har-ka's breathing, were the only sounds she heard. A thousand painful thoughts drove slumber from her eyelids. Her father she knew was gone: she pressed her hand before her eyes to recall, and then to chase away, the dreadful memory that tortured her. She was spared; it might be for a slave, or to be the wife of some one of her enemies. Her brother, she had no doubt, was still living: he had been reserved for protracted tortures. Overcome by these thoughts she sank again upon the ground, but not to sleep. Could nothing be suggested to give her comfort? She cautiously raised the door of the wigwam, and by the red lightning she saw her brother bound as she had left him. Despair had nearly overpowered her once more, but the natural energy of her mind returning, she looked again to her own heart, to see if there was any hope. Should she never see again the home so dear to her! Were she and her bold brother to die by the hands of her father's murderers! Oh! that she possessed a sharp knife, to sever the thongs that bound him, how soon would they flee away as the birds do when winter's winds are heard from the north! The idea once prominent in her mind, there was hope. Another flash showed her the most minute objects in the wigwam. Another directed her to the knife of We-har-ka, which lay glittering by her breast. A few moments of intense thought decided her: nerved by a sense of her own and her brother's danger, she no longer hesitated. What horrors could be greater than those by which she was surrounded! What if she were detected and murdered at once! Far better than to witness her brother's fate, and endure her own. She placed herself near We-har-ka, then gently endeavoured to remove the knife she coveted. The young heart throbbed against her hand. Again she endeavoured to slide the knife from its place. We-har-ka turned upon her side as if disturbed. After a few moments had elapsed she once more made the effort; and now, as it is clasped in her hand, her senses have well-nigh left her, for this time she is successful. But, well she knew there was no time for delay, nor even for consideration. The deepest darkness of night was now upon them; before long the morning twilight would be again resting over the earth. The perfect and unusual repose of the Sioux was in her favour; and, excited even to desperation, she determined to endeavour to free her brother, and secure his and her own escape.