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"Ah! Then you refuse to answer me," says Mona, hastily, if somewhat wearily. "Why make a fool of me?" the poor man asked. "My heart is sad. I am crying." He covered his head with his robe and wept. "Your husband is looking for you," she says to Mona, in an icy tone. "You had better go to him. This is no place for you.".

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It revives him somewhat. And presently the intenser pallor dies away, and speech returns to him. "If ever you should be sorry afterwards," she says, miserably, still tormenting herself with unseen evils,—"if ever I should see discontent in your eyes, how would it be with me then?" The two men wondered at this and could not understand how it could be, but they were both men of strong hearts, and presently Weasel Heart said, "Friend, I shall go down to enter that lodge. Do you sit here and tell me when I get to the place." Then Weasel Heart went up the river and found a drift-log to support him and pushed it out into the water, and floated down toward the cut bank. When he had reached the place where the lodge stood Fisher told him, and he let go the log and dived down into the water and entered the lodge. It is ten days later. The air is growing brisker, the flowers bear no new buds. More leaves are falling on the woodland paths, and the trees are throwing out their last bright autumn tints of red and brown and richest orange, that tell all too plainly of the death that lies before them..