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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