the dark-eyed little girl, a fancy so strong that nothing would do but
they must adopt her as their own daughter into the tribe to belong
forever, according to their law, she and her children, to the Mariposa.

"Nor, because thy mother - for ever was she a true mother to thee -
thought that it might grieve thee, have any of my people ever given thee
cause to doubt that thou wert native born," he finished proudly. "Loyal
have they been, doing all they could to make thee happy. But now that
thy Indian mother is dead, and I myself grow old, I thought to wed thee,
knowing his desire, to the son of that same Cabrillo who brought thee to
us, for I long to be sure, when at length I go, that thou art safe, - at
home."

He waited then and in the silence only the low weeping of the girl was
heard. At length the old chief spoke again, and now in his voice love
conquered disappointment.

"Much do I desire it, but that matters not. I would not have thee
unhappy. I myself will tell the senor that what he hopes for cannot be."

Slowly Wildenai bent her head until it touched his feet. Then she
nestled close against him.

"I thank thee, oh my father!" she cried, and all her voice was music
because of her joy. "And thou art still my father," she added,
earnestly. "What care I to go to Spain? I will stay always with thee."

"For a time, it may be. Yet have a care, little wild rose," he
cautioned, smiling, "Let not the Englishman lure thee away! He, too, may
not be all that thou thinkest."