Woe to love, and hope, and magic! Woe to hearts whom death divideth! While upon her bleeding bosom Fatal arrows made the Cross-Sign, Wistful eyes she turned to Heaven; "O forget not your Wi-no-na," Whispered she unto O-kis-ko, As her soul passed to the silence.
Fear seized on the bold Wan-ches-e When he saw the Pale-Face maiden Standing where had poised the White Doe, Where the White Man's Fort had once stood. He knew naught of magic arrows, Nor O-kis-ko's secret mission; He saw only his own arrow Piercing through her tender bosom, Never doubting but the wonder Which his awe-struck eyes had witnessed Had been wrought by his own arrow, Silver arrow from a far land, Fashioned by the skill of Pale-Face, Gift of Pale-Face Weroanza To a race she willed to conquer.
All his hatred of the Pale-Face, Fed by fear and superstition, To him made this sudden vision Seem an omen of the future, When the Red Man, like the White Doe, Should give place unto the Pale-Face, And the Indian, like the white mist, Fade from out his native forest. All his courage seemed to weaken With the dread of dark disaster; And with instincts strong for safety Fled he from the place in terror.
Love hath not the fear of danger, And O-kis-ko's faith in magic Kept him brave to meet the changes Which had each so quickly followed. For he saw the human maiden Where had stood the living White Doe; And he knew his hazel arrow, Charmed with all We-nau-don's magic, Had restored the lost Wi-no-na To reward his patient loving.
But the conflict of _two_ arrows, Bringing death unto the maiden, Was a deep and darksome myst'ry Which his ignorance could not fathom. All the cause of his undoing Saw he in the silver arrow; So with true love's tireless effort, Quick he strove to break its power.
From her heart he plucked the arrow, Hastened to the magic water, Hoping to destroy the evil Which had stilled the maiden's pulses. In the sparkling spring he laid it So no spot was left uncovered, So the full charm of the water Might act on the blood-stained arrow.
As the blood-stains from it melted, Blood of Pale-Face shed by Red Man, Slowly, while he watched and waited, _All the sparkling water vanished;_ Dry became the magic fountain, Leaving bare the silver arrow.