"
"Name it, my brother, and if it be a thing within my power to compass,
it shall be granted, even according to thy wish," answered Rene.
A grateful smile lighted the face of the dying lad, and Rene felt a
faint pressure of the hand clasped in his, as Has-se said, almost in a
whisper, so weak was he becoming,
"Thou hast lost thy people: my people are losing a son. Take thou my
place. Be to the old chief, my father, a son, faithful and true, and
to Nethla a brother."
Then after a pause, during which he gasped painfully for breath, he
added, and a questioning look passed over his face--"And thou wilt wear
the Flamingo Feather?"
"Gladly will I be thy poor substitute for son and brother to those who
are dearest to thee, if they will accept of me as such," answered Rene.
"As to the Flamingo Feather, didst thou not say that its wearing was
reserved for the chiefs and sons of chiefs of thy people?"
Very faint came the reply, "One adopted of a chief is adopted to all
the honors of an own son. His wearing of the chief's token is a sign
that he will never leave nor desert his father until death shall part
them. Ha--"
The effort of making this explanation was too great for the weakened
frame of the dying lad, and it was followed by such a terrible flow of
blood from the wound that those who witnessed it made sure that the end
had come.
But once again the tender eyes were opened, and once more came the
words to Rene de Veaux, faint but clear,
"And thou wilt wear the Flamingo Feather?"
"I will, Has-se! I will!" exclaimed the boy, choked by the great sobs
that at length came to his relief--"and with my life will I be true to
its meaning.
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