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Entered according: to Act of Congress, in June, 1870, by J. W. Burkk & Cos., in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the So.Bistficr of Geoig In -
Vol. IV--No. 8
THE LEGEND OF LOVER’S LEAP.
) the Chattahoochie River, a
V short distance above the city
of Columbus, is a high and
rugged cliff, known as the “Lover’s
Leap.” Its summit commands one of
the most magnificent displays of river
scenery which Nature could present,
or which Art could picture. On the
left, the river pursues its downward
course to Columbus, in a straight line.
Its flow is rapid and wild, broken by
rocks, over which the water frets and
foams in angry surges. The bed of
the stream is that of a deep ravine,
its walls lofty and irregular cliffs, cov
ered to their verge with majestic forest
growth. From this point the city of
Columbus is but partially visible. At
the “Leap,” the river makes a sud
den turn, and forms an angle with its
course below, flowing in a narrow chan
nel so regularly lined with rocks on
both sides, and of such uniform width,
as to resemble a canal. A short dis
tance above, it makes another right
angle, and resumes its old course.
In the early part of the present cen
tury, this region was inhabited by two
powerful tribes of Indians. They were
rivals, and with equal numbers, and
names alike proud, they vied with each
other. There was no tribe, among all
the powerful nation of the Creeks, who
boasted of their prowess before a Cus
seta or a Coweta. Yet they were not
friends; for who of those proud red
men would bend before the acknow
ledged superiority of the other? It may
have been a small matter from which
their jealousy sprung, but the tiuy thing
had been cherished, till a serpent-like
hatred hissed at the sound of the
other’s name.
The proud chief of the Cussetas was
now become an old man, and he was
much venerated by all who rallied at
his battle-cry. The boldest heart in all
his tribe quailed before his angry eye,
and the proudest did him reverence.
The old man had outlived his own sons.
One by one had the Great Spirit called
them from their hunting grounds, and
MACON, GEORGIA, AUGUST 20, 1870.
in the flush of their manhood they had
gone to the spirit-land. Yet he was
not alone. The youngest of his chil
dren, the dark-eyed Mohina, was still
sheltered in his bosom, and all his love
for the beautiful in life was bestowed
upon her—ah, and rightly too, for the
young maiden rivalled in grace the
bounding fawn; and the young warriors
said of her that the smile of the Great
Spirit was not so beautiful.
While yet a child, she was betrothed
to the Young Eagle of the Cowetas, the
proud scion of their warrior chief. But
stern hatred had stifled kindly feelings
in the hearts of all save these two
young creatures ; and the pledged word
was broken when the smoke of the
calumet was extinguished. Mohina no
longer dared to meet the young chief
openly; and death faced them when
they sat in a lone, wild trysting-place,
’neath the starry blazonry of mid
night’s dark robe. Still they were un
daunted, for pure love dwelt in their
hearts, and base fear crouched low be
fore it, and went afar from them to hide
in grosser souls. The deer bounded
gladly by when the lovers met, and
felt he was free, while the bright-eyed
maiden leaned upon the bosom of the
Young Eagle. Their youthful hearts
hoped in the future, though all in vain,
for time served but to render more
fierce that hostile rivalry, more rank
that deadly hatred, which existed be
tween the tribes. Skirmishes were fre
quent amid the hunters, and open hos
tilities seemed inevitable.
And now it was told by some, who
had peered through the tangled under
wood and matted foliage of those dim
woods, that the Coweta had pressed
the maiden to his heart in those lone
places, and that strange words and pas
sionate were even now breathed by him
to her ear. Then the hunters of the Cus
setas sprang from their couches, and
made earnest haste to the dark glen.
With savage yell and impetuous rush
they bounded before the lovers. They
fled, and love and terror added wings
to their flight. For a while they dis
tanced their pursuers. But the strength
of Mohina failed her in a perilous mo
ment, and had not the Young Eagle
snatched her to his fast-beating heart,
the raging enemy had made sure their
fate. He rushed onward up the narrow
defile before him. It led he forgot
whither. In a few moments he stood
on the verge of this fearful height.
Wildly the maiden clung to him, and
even then, in that strange moment of
his life, his heart throbbed proudly
beneath his lurden. The bold future
Whole No. 164.
alone was before him; there was no
return. Already the breath of one of
the pursuers, a hated rival, came quick
upon his cheek, and the bright-gleam
ing tomahawk shone before him. One
moment he gazed on him, and triumph
flashed in the eye of the young chief,
and then without a shudder he sprang
into the seething waters below. Still
the young maiden clung to him, nor yet
did the death-struggle part them. The
mad waves dashed fearfully over them,
and their loud wail was a fitting re
quiem to their departing spirits. The
horror-stricken warriors gazed wildly
into the foaming torrent, then dashed
with reckless haste down the declivity,
to bear the sad tidings to the old chief.
He heard their tale in silence. But
sorrow was on his spirit, and it was
broken. Henceforth his seat was un
filled by the council fire, and its red
light gleamed fitfully upon his grave.
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
THE YOUNG- EXPLORERS;
OR, BOY-LIFE IN TEXAS.
BY JOHN C. DUVAL,
Author of “ Jack Dobell; or, A Boy's Ad
ventures in Texas," “ The Adventures
of Big-Foot Wallace," etc.
CHAPTER VII.
Making Preparations—Uncle Seth gives his
Opinion of Fire-arms—The Commissariat—
The Thick Saddle What Cudjo Thought
and Heard of the Indians—Ready at Last
The Cavalcade —Will's Promises—Cudjo
and his Steed—Uncle Seth Lays down the
Law.
HE morning after our visit to
his shanty, Uncle Seth made
his appearance, riding a stout
half-breed horse, that looked as tough
and weather-beaten as his master. On
his shoulder he carried his trusty rifle,
while a couple of large Derringer pistols
and his bowie knife were stuck in his
belt. He was dressed in a full suit of
buckskin—hunting shirt, leggings, and
moccasins —and had a coon-skin cap of