“It is now the moon of cohonks,” answered the Indian. “When the moon of blossoms is here, the panther shall roll at the beautiful lady’s feet.”

“The moon of blossoms!” I said. “The moon of blossoms is a long way off. I have panthers myself to tame before it comes. This wild night gives one wild thoughts, Master Sparrow. The loud wind, and the sound of the water, and the hurrying clouds — who knows if we shall ever see the moon of blossoms?” I broke off with a laugh for my own weakness. “It’s not often that a soldier thinks of death,” I said. “Come to bed, reverend sir. Nantauquas, again, good-night, and may you tame your panther!”

In the great room of the minister’s house I paced up and down;