All was quiet and peace. Not a voice was heard; even nature's was still. No human eye looked upon the warrior as he wept. Silence and solitude surrounded him. The vast prairie that stretched abroad might have recalled to his mind the unending future, which he was to spend in the society of the honoured dead. The soft vapoury clouds of evening that hung over him, might have told him, as they have told many, that it is not far from the wretched to the land of spirits. The waters, on which his canoe rested almost motionless, might have called to his remembrance, that life was a sea, sometimes troubled and sometimes calm, over which the mortal must pass to reach immortality. But no such tranquillizing thoughts calmed the tempest which was raging in his bosom; his bare chest heaved with emotion; but at length he raised his head, and taking another paddle from the bottom of his canoe in his right hand, with the other he threw the small arrow that had occasioned him so many painful thoughts, and watching till the waters closed over it, he made his way towards the bend in the river, where lowlands and prairies were no more to be seen, and an hour's time brought him in sight of the village, and soon he was clambering over the rocks towards it. When he met his friends, there was a stern coldness in his manner, and he replied fiercely to the greeting salutations of his younger wives, and called for his daughter Wenona, whose mother had long since been dead, to prepare him some food. Wenona obeyed with alacrity her father's commands, at the same time glancing uneasily towards her two step-mothers, whose smothered wrath she knew would break forth at some future time. They sat silent on the ground in seeming submission to the will that wrested from them their rights, in favour of the child of a dead rival; but those accustomed to read the writing on a woman's countenance, could see they were rebelliously inclined, but were forced to conceal their vexation under a calm demeanour. It was in August, "the moon that corn is gathered." Wenona had during the long day paid the penalty of her father's love; she had toiled unceasingly, though the sun scorched her face and bosom; the watchful eyes of her father's wives were upon her, and when he was absent, they hardly allowed her a moment's rest. Her young companions wondered at the little spirit she showed; but Wenona was of a peace-making disposition, and preferred submission to contention. The large bundles of corn she had gathered during the day were hanging outside the wigwam to dry. Not even had she allowed herself time to join the other girls, who were diving at noon in the cool waters, and raising their heads up to call Wenona, looking like mermaids as the water flowed from their long, unbraided hair.