indeed so short," he said, in grave, low tones, which, though sad, awakened in Alice dim, pleasant memories of the past, "that the sister does not remember the brother? that the Water-lily has forgotten the Fir-tree?"
"Oh! Pashemet, Pashemet! my brother! welcome, welcome!" cried Alice, impulsively. "Forget? Oh, no! never, never!" and springing forward with extended hands, she placed them both in the hands of the young warrior, and looked up into his face with the sweet, frank, confiding smile of her childhood. "I am so glad! Oh, my brother! I have looked for you so long—I have so longed to see you."
"That is well—that is good!" said the young warrior, gravely, though a flush of gratified feeling rose up even to his dark brow. "The words of the young pale face are good; I, too, have wished to look upon my sweet Water-lily again. Listen to me, my sister—the people of my tribe hold their council-fire not far from this, and I was bidden to it. I came—but I have come more than twenty miles out of my way to look
