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THE SUITNY SOUTH.
I
vainly endeavored to discern land, and the
moaning of the wind among the distant for
ests alone indicated that there' was any at all
near me. Strong and irregular Masts, loaded
with snow ami sleet swept wildly nlong, in
volving everything in obscurity and bewilder
ing my footsteps with malignant influence.
I sometimes fancied I saw the spot where our
post was situated, and even the trees and
stantly and steadily that his scrutiny anl>y-
ed me, and attracted my particular afcn
tion. He appeared to be the youngest orhe
jiarty, and was very reserved and unpraos-
sessing in his aspect, and seemed to knowne,
but 1 could not recollect of ever liaving*een
him before. &
In the afternoon the rain ceasecLJnd
the Indians began to prepare for t^fxd-
houses upon it, but the next moment the fan- 1 ing. When they had accoutred ffem-
tastic sh»i>ed fogs that had produced the j selves, they all rose from the gsund
ugreeable illusion would lie whirled away by' j without speaking a word, and walked aiav,
a gust of wind and reduce me to actionless \ one man taking the lead. I perceived ;hat
despair. 1 tired my' gun repeatedly in the they did not inttnd thnt I should l e <> the
hope that the rejiortwculd bring some one to | party, but I followed them iinmedigely,
my assistance; however, the shores alone ac-j and, addressing myself to the persomjho
kriowledged, by' feeble echoes, that the sound I preceded.11 «• < -ihers, told him that 1 mm'ac-
had reached them. ! con.pany tin in, as I neither could live ii the
The storm increased in violence and at in- j woods alone n r knew in what part os the
tervals the sound of the ice breaking up rolled j country 1 was. He stopped and surfyed
was but a short time off, and then would be
turned loose the only one si e feared. Some
how, Meta, the youngest daughter, had the
mother’s calm, clear way of looking at one,
and Miss M. J. avoided these glances. She
did not wish to encounter that high, assert
ing girl who would only topple over her line
plans, then laugh at hi r discomfiture. Amid
these thoughts, which impelled her to hasten,
Miss Margaret Jane grew to dreading Meta
and her return. This dread was easily'turned
to that spiteful hatred that could thrive in
Miss Murgaret’6 poor, dwai fed soul, when
nothing else would take root there.
Success followed her plans. One week be
fore Meta reached home Miss Margaret Jane
Stewart was installed there as mistress, in
stead of Meta’s mother.
Could Meta have stood lief ore the audience
anti overcome her fears had she known what
bad taken place at her heme, had known
that her feet were suddenly shifted from the
dear old path, and that she must wa k in
sight of the old-time hallowed associations _ _ .
but never turn aside fri m the thorns of her drifting showers, w hich were now so thick as J he, “don’t make the Great Spirit angjv liy
weary path so much as to pluck a flower to affect my respiration. 1 soon lost all sense i saying’what fa not truth. That manknow-phat
growing in the dear old way? Three more of fear and began to feel a sort of frantic | you are,” pointing to the Indian whs hail
days of blissful ignorance, then indeed the delight in struggling against the careering j observed me closely. “We all know: who
clouds would arise thnt would settle in along blasts. I hurried on, sometimes running j you are. You have come to trade wih ns,
darkness within and without. along the brink of a circular opening in the : and 1 suppose your companions have cqa/eal-
Libe many another man and woman, Col. j ioe, and sometin.es leaping across frightful ; ed themselves at a distance, lest the atf**ar-
G len n realized when too late the power of chasms—ell the while unconscious of having I ance of a number of white men should r.tim-
his act. The little snares set here and there i any object in view. The ice everywhere j idate us. They are right. Experienc* has
for his unwary feet hail finally drawn him in ] creaked under my feet, and I knew that death j taught us to fear white men; but the.* art,
where he could not break his fetters. If M >ss j awaited me, whether 1 tied away or ] not their strength, makes us tremble Go
Margaret Jane bad succeeded in binding him remained on the same spot. I felt as one i away; we do not wish to have any trflisac-
’ ' ’ ’ ” ' would do if forced by some persecuting fiend j tions with you. We are not to lie bebnyed
to range over the surface of a black and shore-' I or overpowered by fire-water, or anything
less ocean, and aware that whenever his tor- i else you can offer ns. None of ns shall narm
mentor withdrew' his sustaining power he you. 1 have spoken the truth, fo* have
would sink down and Ik- suffocated among j not two mouths."
and his projierty to herself he found in the
chill loneliness of his hi art that he was still
unmated in all that renders marriage holy.
Dreary desolation still swept over him, and
he finally looked ujam the creature
who had* wrought this sore calamity as
an ireubus that weighed down his life
in anguish. She—how different were her
emotions—if real unadulterated happiness
ness could enter her sordid soul she experi
enced it in the use of the gold which she loved
beyond all else. What cared she for the
sighs and groans which tortured her victim
iu his sleep, tor the sorrow' and disappoint
ments which were possibly in store for the
two girls she regarded already as nuisances
—pests that might i uflie her future schemes.
An adroit, acceptable member of society, she
was iu effect more pernicious than the thief,
who prowls in the darkness ready to burn
anil slay to satiate his unquenchable thirst
for the goods of others.
Col. Glenn, tortured, remorseful, did not
choose to attend commencement, as he had
firmly purposed to do. In the distraction of
the days preceeding his wedding, he had not
written t.i Meta, though this daughter was
in his thoughts continually. He delegated
the task of escorting Meta home to a nephew
w ho. by missing the stage was too late for
commencement, anil just in time to send a
telegram to a city a hundred miles from the
college to warn Meta, to stop there until he
could overtake her*
Like many others, Colonel Glenn when he
found himself engaged to Miss Stewart, re
alized all at once what lie had done. She had
hood-winked him completely by her sympa
thy, valuable nets etc., etc., and when he was
thoroughly blinded she led him into the mat
rimonial snare I Alas! many a true heart is
thus eaged. When he realizid his position,
saw the wily woman’s schemes for the first,
then he should have burst his bonds, and freed
himself forever from her toils. This course,
however correct, was not in consonance with
the code of honor practiced by this gentle
man. who was the quintessence of chivalry—
Southern chivalry of his day and time.
To be Continued.
the billows that struggled lieneath him.
At last night came on, and exhausted by
fatigue and mental excitement, I wrapjiei’i
myself in my cloak and lay down oil the ice.
It was so daik that 1 could not have moved
one step w ithout running the risk of falling
into the lake. I almost wished that the
drowsiness produced by intense cold would
1 begin to affect me; but I did not feel in the
slightest degree chilled, and the temperature
of the air was in reality above freezing. 1 had
lain only a few minutes when I beard tffe
howl of a wolf. The sound was indescrib
ably delightful to my ear, and I started up
with the intention of hastening to the spot
from w hich the sound seemed to proceed, but
hopeless as my situation then was, my
heart sank within me when I contemplated
the dangers I would encounter in making the
attempt. My courage failed and 1 resumed
my former position and listened to the undu
lations of the water as it undei mined and
beat against the lower part- of the ice on
which I lay.
About midnight the storm ceased and most
of the clouds gradually forsook the sky,
while the rising moon dispelled the darkness
that had. previously prevailed. However, a
thick haze covered the heavens and rendered
her light dim and ghastly anil similar to that
shed during an eclipse. A succession of noises
had continued with little interruption for
several hours, and at last the ice beneath me
begun to move. I started up, and on looking
around saw thnt the wdiole surface of the lake
was in a state of agitation. My oyi s became
dim and] stretched out my arms to catch
hold of some object and felt’as if all created
tilings were passing away. The hissing,
grinding and crashing produced by the differ
ent masses of ice coming into collision,
w ere tremendous. Large fragments some
times got wedged together, and imped
ed the progress of those behind them, w hich
being pushed foi wards liy others still farther
1/ack, were upon the top of the first, and fan
tastic-shaped pyramids and towers could be
j indistinctly seen rising among the mists of
night, and momentarily changing their forms,
and finally disorganizing themselves with
magical rapidity and fearful tumult. At
-j-. -j- . i r r> ■! otiier times, an immense mass of ice would
I he 1 rue Account Ot a reriiOUS start up into a perpendicular position, and
continue gleaming in the moonshine fee a
Adventure. ( jljttle and tl]<xi vanish lire aspeiyo
Lost on the Ice.
iiam-
•■I'l.v-
smell
•Dili'
trade
st in-
Kents,
eight
mens
. the
■flier
.ii. I
ii for
•nte.”
anionu*the abyss <
When he had finished this oration, b
ed silent, and i felt at a loss wimp.
At last I repeated my story, anil i*
to convince him that I neither lia<*'
pailions nor was at all in a situatio
with his people, or do them the si
jury. He listened calmly to my a
and seemed to think there was a
in them; and the young man al
tioned stopped forward and sa
stranger go with us; the bones rtt n.
cry out against our leaving him 1
am young but I da re to advise. 1..
once to the counsels of Thakakaw
The first speaker then waved his ha . ssa
signal that I should follow them, a*id the
wliole party' proceeded in the same oilier as
before.
Soon after sunset we stopped for thenight,
and the men set aliout erecting a wif.vain,
while the women kindled a ffre. One of our
party had killed a small deer in the course of
our journey, and he immediately pro eeiled
to skin the animal, that a portion of itmight
lie dressed for supper. When the venison
was ready, they all sat down and partook of
it, and a lilieral allowance was handed to me;
but the same silence prevailed that bat hith
erto been observed among them, and the
comforts of a plentiful repast after a long
journey dill not ajqiear in the least di-gree to
promote social communication. The meal
being finished, the men filled their pipes with
odoriferous herbs, and began to smoke in the
most sedate manner, and tiie women prepar
ed beds by spreading skins upon the ground.
The composed demeanor of the party' har
monized well with the silenceand gloominess
of the night: and it seemed that the awful
solitude of the forests in which they lived,
and the sublime and enduring forms' under
which nature coutinually presented herself
to their eyes, had impressed them with a
sense of their own insignificance, anil of the
transitoriness of their daily occupations anil
enjoyments, and rendered them thoughtful,
taciturn, and unsusceptible. I seated myself
at ihe root of a large tree near the wigwam,
and continued observing its iimnues, till,
overcome by fatigue, I sank into a deop
sleep.
About midnight I was awakened by some
one pulling my hand, and, on looking up, I
perceived the Indian who had e «‘d my
-s’eomTjanying li J>;u. anil who®- was
hour I might expect to see him. The stars
now twinkled feebly amidst the faint glow' of
dawn that began to light the eastern horizon,
and the setting nnxin appeared behind some
pines, anil threw a rich yellow radiance upon
their dark-green boughs. Gentle rustlings
among the trees, and low chirpings, an
nounced that the birds liegan to feel the in
fluence of approaching day; and I sometimes
olwerved a solitary wolf stealing cautiously
along in the distance. While engaged in con
CHRISTAINE;
— OR, —
Marrying Above One’s Station.
The quiet evening was setting in. The vil-
templating the scene, I suddenly thought I lage pond reflected the fading red clouds in
saw an Indian a little way off. I could not the west, so did the panes of glass in the eot-
ascertain whether or not" it was Outalisso. ■ tage windows. The flow'ers on the mountain-
but, fearing it might be Thakakawerente, | sides smelt sweet, and a pleasant s«ent of hay'
whom I dreaded to encounter in my unarmed ; was wafted from the open barns. In the dis-
state, I retired from the roots of the tree, anil | tance sounded tinkling bells, hung round
concealed myself among some brushwoi >il. the necks of sheep and goats, which were'
I remained there for some time, but ; being driven along the wood-paths to their
did not peiceive any one near me; and night’s shelter. Thelastsharpemngof scythes
pad/t'tfliTf wfeMlctTtig Vug lur'irade'fhereV'I | »itftihtA AVi'..fireUiftH'ftiivl. .
began to look forward to my return to Mont- | ” ® *°rtned ° ni,| und six or seven
real. 1 waited with the greatest impatience
lor the arrival ofihe period which was to
terminate my banishment, and restore me to
society'. 1 was nearly three thousand miles
dtstant from any settlements, and my r only
companions wer e two young men, clerks of
the establishment, whose characters and lim
ited acquirements rendered them very' unin
teresting associates. My situation was one
of considerable responsibility. A great num
ber of Canadians in the service of the C’oin-
pany, resided at the post and were under my
control; but I found it a very difficult mat
ter to keep them in a state of due subordina
tion, and to prevent them from quarreling and
fighting with the detatched parties of Indi
ans that occasionally visited us for the pur-
pose of trading. Interest and personal safety-
alike required that we should be on friendly-
terms with the natives; ard I spent many
anxious hours in endeavoring to pt omote mu
tual pe>ace and good-humor. Our port was
situated upon the banks of a small lake about
sixteen miles broad. This lake discharged
itself by means of a river into another of
much larger dimensions, and thick forests j
covered every par t of the neighboring coun 1
try.
One afternoon I took my- gun and strolled
feet high, on the top of which 1 stood, eon
teniplating the awful scene around me, and
feeling as if 1 no longer had the least connec
tion with the world, or retained anything
human or earthly in my composition.
The wind, which was pretty strong, drove
the ice down the lake very fast. My alarms
and anxieties had gradually become less in
tense, and 1 w as several times overcome by a
sort of stupor; during the continuance of
which, imagination and reality- combined
their distracting influence. At' one time I
fancied that the si ow still drifted as violent
ly as ever, and that I distinguished, through
its hazy medium, a band of Indian chiefs
walking past me upon the surface of thelake.
Their steps were noiseless, and they went
along with wan and dejected looks and down
cast eyes, and paid no attention to my ex
clamations and entreaties for relief. At an
other, I t hought I was floating in the middle
of the ocean, and that a blazing sun flamed
in the cloudless skv, and made the ice which
supported me melt so fast that I heard
streams of water pouring from its sides, and
lelt myself eveiy moment descending to
wards the surface of the billows. I was usu
ally wakened from such dreams by some
noise or violent concussion, but always re-
out in search of game. Though it was now j lapsed into them whenever the cause of dis-
the beginning of spring, the lake w as still turbanee ceased to operate,
frozen completely across, the cold of the pre- [ The longest and last of these slumbers was
feeding winter having been very intense. 1 broken by- a terrible shook which my ice
soon fell in willi a flock of wild ducks, but be- island received, and which threw me from
fore I could get a shot at them they- began to • my seat, and nearly precipitated me into the
fly towards the middle of the lake; however, ! lake. On regaining my former jiositicn, and
1 followed them fearlessly over the ice in the | looking round, I perceived to my joy and os-
expectation that they would scon alight, j tonisbment, that 1 w as in a river. The water
The weather was mild but rather gusty; de- i between me and the shore was stili frozen
tached black clouds moved rapidly across | over, and was aliout thirty yards wide, con-
the sky in immense masses, and the sun blazed | sequeutly the fragment of ice on which I
forth in unobscured splendor at one moment, stood could not approach any Dearer than
and was completely shrouded from the eye j this. After a moment of irresolution, I leap-
the next. I was so intent on the pursuit of ; ed upon the frozen surface and liegan to run
my game that I hastened forward almost un- j towards the bank of the river. My feet
consciously, my progress being much facili- j seemed scarcely to touch the iee», so great
tated by a thin layer of snow- which covered! was my terror lest it should give way lie-
the ice and made the footing tolerably secure, neath me; but I reached the shore in safety,
At last 1 fired at the ducks, anil killed one and dropped down completely exhausted liy
and wounded another. I immediately picked fatigue and agitation.
up the first but its companion being only | it was now broad daylight, but I neither
winged began to leap away before 1 caught
hold of it. I followed, but had not advanced
more than twenty yards, when to my aston
ishment 1 found that the ice was in ninny
places covered with water to the depth of
several inches. I stopped short, full of alunu
and irresolute what to do. It w as evident
that a thaw had already' commenced and as
saw animuls nor human lieings, nor any ves
tiges of them. Thick forests covered the
bunks of the river, and extended back as far
as my eye cou'd reach. I feared to pene
trate them, lest I should get bewildered in
their recesses, and accordingly walked along
the edge of the stream. It was not long be
fore I discovered a column of smoke rising
I well knew with what rapidity the ice broke among the trees. I immediately directed
up when once affected by a change of tern- my stejw towards the spot, and, on reaching
perature, I became all veto all the dangers of i it, found a party seated round a fire
my situation and almost shuddered at the j The received me with an air of indifference
thought of moving from the spot on which I | ant i unconcern, not very agreeable or en
couraging to one in my destitute condition.
stood.
The weather had grown calm and hazy and
the sky was very black and lowering. Large
flakes of snow soon began to fall languidly
and perpendicularly through the air, and
after a little time these were accompanied by
a thick shower of sleety rain, which gradu
ally became so dense that 1 could not discern
the shore. I strained my eyes to catch a
glimpse of some living object, but a dreary
and motionless expanse stretched around me
on every side and the appalliug silence that
prevailed was sometimes interrupted by the
receedmg cries of the wounded bird. All na
ture seemed to be awaiting some terrible
event. I listened in fearful suspense, though
I knew not what 1 expected to hear. I soon
distinguished a distant thundering noise,
which gradually became stronger and seemed
to approach the place where 1 stood. Re
peated explosions of irregular loudness were
succeeded by a tremendous sound like that of
rocks bursting asunder. The ice trembled
beneath my feet and the next moment it was
disunited by a vast chasm, which opened it
self within a few yards of me. The waters
of the lake rushed upwards through the gap
with foaming fury and began to flood the sur
face all around.
I started backwards and ran, as I conceived,
towards the shore, hut my progress was soon
stopped by one of those weak parts of the ice
called air-holes. While walking cautiously
around it my mind grew somewhat composed
and I resolved not to proceed any further till
However, 1 placed myself in their circle,
and tried to discover to what tribe they be
longed. by addressing them in the different In
dian languages with which I was acquainted.
1 soon made myself intelligible, and related
the circumstances that had brought them so
unexjieetedly among them, At the conclu
sion of my narrative, the men pulled their
tomahawk pipes from their mouths and
looked at each other with incredulous smiles.
I did not make any attempt to convince them
of the truth of what I said, knowing it would
be vain to do so, but asked for something to
eat. After some deliberation, they gave me
a small quantity of pemican, but with an un
willingness that did not evince such a spirit
of hospitality as I had usually met with
among Indians.
The jiarty consisted of three men, two wo
men, and a couple of children, all of whom
sat or lay near the fire in absolute idleness;
and their minds seemed to be as unoccupied
as their bodies, for nothing resembling con
versation ever passed between them. The
weather was dreary and comfortless. A
thick small rain, such as usually falls in
North America during a thaw, filled the air,
and the wigwam under which we sat afford
ed but an imperfect shelter from it. I jiassed
the time in the most gloomy and desponding
reflections. I saw no means by which I
could return to the trading-post, and the be
haviour of the Indians made me doubt if they
would be inclined to grant me that support
I had fixed on some way of regulating my j and protection without which I could not
course; but I found this to be impossible. I j long exist. One man gazed upon me so con-
i oueyed' anil he led me behind v!. ge tree
which grew at a little distance fil m the wig
wam, and said, in a low' voice, “Listen to
me, my friend—I told you that yon would
receive no harm from us; and shall I -icliemy
words ? Thakakawerente, who requested
that you might be allowed to follow our
steps, says that his father was murdered by
a party of people under your command,
about nine moons ago. This may be true,
and you at the same time may lie guiltless:
for we cannot always control those who are
placed under our authority. He tells me
that the-jiirit of the old man has twice ap
peared to him in his dreams to-night, desir
ing him to put you to death. He has gone
to repose himself again, and if hjs father
visits him a third time during sleep, he will
certainly kill you whenever he awakes.
You must therefore hasten away, if you
wish to live any longer.” “What can I do ?”
cried I; “death awaits me whether I remain
here or fly from Thakakawerente. It is im
possible for me to reach home alone'” “Be
patient,” returned Outalisso, “and I will try
to save you. Not far from hence, the roots
of <i large oak, which has been' blown down
by the wind, stretch high into the air, and
may be seen at a great distance. You must
go there, and wait till I come to you. Keep
the mossy side of the trees on your left hand,
and you will find the place without any diffi
culty.”
Outalisso motioned tne to hurry away, anil
I departed with a palpitating heart, and
plunged into the recesses of the forest, and
regulated my course in the manner he direct
ed. The moon was rising, and I could see to
a considerable distance around. fT'ne rust
ling of the dry leaves among! my feet
often made me think that some I ne walk
ed close behind me, and I scawply dared
to look back, lest I should sec ii uplifted
tomahawk descending upon m\T bead. I
sometimes fancied 1 observed fThakaka-
werrente lurking among the brushwood, end
stopped short till imagination conjured up
his form in a different part of the forest, and
rendered me irresolute which phantom I
should endeavor to avoid.
I reached the tree sooner than I expected;
it lay along the ground, and its immense
roots projected from the trunk, at right an
gles, to the height of twelve or fourteen feet,
with their interstices so filled with earth
that it was impossible to see through them.
I sat down, and found the agitation of my
spirits gradually suliside under the tranquil-
izing influence of the scene. Not i breath of
wind shook the trees, the leafless and delicate
ly-fibred boughs of which when viewed against
the cloudless skv, seemed like a sable net
work spread overhead. The nests which the
birds hail mace the preceding summer still
remained among the branches, silent, desert
ed, and unsheltered, making the loneliness of
the forest, as it were, visible to the mind;
while a withered leuf sometimes dropped
slowly down—a sad memorial of the depart
ed glories of the vegetable world. A small
rivulet ran within a little distance of me, but
its course was so concealed by long grass that
I would have been aware of its existence by
the murmuring of its waters only, had it not
glittered dazzling!v in t he moonshine at one
spot, while flowing over a large smooth
stone. When I looked into the recesses of
the forest, I saw tne trees ranged lief ore each
other like colossal pillars, and gradually
blending their stems together, until they
formed a dark and undefined mass. In some
places, a scathed trunk, whitened with the
moss of successive centuries, stood erect in
spectral grandeur, like a being whom im
mense age and associations, riveted to long-
past times, had isolated from th*4 sympathies
of his fellow-mortals. As the lO/jon gradual
ly rose on the arch of heaven, her light fell
at different angles, anil the aspect of the
woods was continually changing. New and
grander groups of trees came yinto view, and
mighty oaks and chestnuts seemed to stalk
forward, with majer ‘' - slowness, from the
surrounding obscurity, and, after a time, to
give place to a succession of others, by retir
ing amidst the darkness from which they had
at first emerged. Tremors of awe began to
pervade my frame, and I almost expected
that the tones of some superhuman voice
would break the appalling silence that pre
vailed in the wilderness around me.
I waited impatiently for the appearance of
thinking that I had lieen deceived by-
fancy, I resolved to ro urn to my
former station, and accordingly set. out to
wards the great tree, but shortly became
alarmed at neither reaching it nor seeing it
so soon as 1 expected. 1 turned back in
much agitation, nnd endeavored to retrace
my steps to the brushwood, but all in vain. I
examined the most remarkable trees around
me, without being able to recollect of having
seen one of them before. I perceived that I
had lost myself. The moment 1 became
aware of this, my faculties anil perceptions
seemed to desert me one after another, ami
at last 1 was conscious of being in existence
only by the feeling of chaotic and insupjKii't-
able hopelessness which remained: but after
a little time, all my intellectual powers re
turned with increased vigor and acuteness,
and appeared to vie with each other in giv
ing me a vivid sense of the horrors of my sit
uation. My soul se-med incapable of affoi d-
ing play to the tumultuous crowd of feelings
that struggled to manifest themselves. I
hurried wildly from one place to another,
calling on Outalisso and Thakakewerente by
turns. The horrible silence that prevailed
was more distracting than a thousand deaf
ening voices would have been. I staggered
about in a state of perturbation. My ears
began to ring with unearthly sounds, anil
every object became distorted and terrific.
The trees seemed to start from their places,
and rush past each other, intermingling their
branches with furious violence and horrible
crashings, while the moon careered along the
skv, and the stars hurried backwards and
forwards with eddying and impetuous mo
tions.
A short time before sunset the wind hail
ceased, the mists were dissipated, and a jior-
tion of the blue sky appeared directly above
me. Encouraged by these favorable appear
ances, I ventured from my place of refuge,
and began to think of making another at
tempt to regain the great tree, when I heard
the report of a rifle. I was so petrified with
joy-and surprise that I had no power to call
out till the firing was repeated. I then shout
ed “Outalisso!” several times, and soon saw
him advancing towards me.
“Why are you not at the place I appoint
ed ?” cried he; “I feared you hail lost your
self, ami discharged my- gun as a signal. But
all danger is past. Thakakawerente is dead
—I killed him.” There was some blood on
Outalisso’s dress, but he looked so calm and
careless that I hesitated to believe what he
told me.
“I do uot deceive you,” said he, “and 1 will
tell you how Thakakawerente came liy- his
death. He waked soon after midnight, and
not finding you in the camp, suspected that l
had told you thaj he intended to kill you. He
taxed me with having done so and I scorned
to deny it. His anger made hint forget the
truth, and he said 1 had betrayed my trust,
and at the same time struck me on the face.
Now, you know, an Indian never forgets a
blow, or an accusation such as he uttered. I
buried my tomahawk in his head. His
friends lay asleep in the wigwam, and I
dragged away his body to some distance, and
covered it with leaves, ami then concealed
myself till I saw them set out on their jour-
nev. which Ithey soon diiL-tjonbtless suppos-
i>’."ti-* ti v ’-' . p T had gone on
the mist and th, •-
Yen... from seeking you till now. ’ Be
satisfied, yon shall see the corpse oi Thaka
kawerente. Follow me!”
Outalisso now liegan to proceed rap
idly- tin otigh the forest, and 1 walked
behind him without uttering a word.
We soon reached tiie s; ot where
the Indians had slept the preceding night, and
found the wigwam remaining, and likewise
several embers of fire. My companion im
mediately fanned them into a state of bright
ness, and then collected some pieces of drv
wood that lay around, and piled them upon
the charcoal. The whole soon burst into a
blaze, and we both sat down within its influ
ence, Outalisso at the same time presenting
me with a quantity of pemican, which proved
very acceptable, as I hail eaten nothing for
more than twenty horn s.
After we hail reposed ourselves a little,
Outalisso rose up ami motioned that I should
accompany him. He conducted me to a small
pile of brushwoo I and dry leaves, part of
which he immediately removed, and 1 saw
the corpse of Thakakawerente stretched be
neath. I shrank back, shuddering with hor
ror, but he pulled me forwards, and said I
must assist him in conveying the body to the
fire. Seeing me still unwilling, he took it up
in his arms, nnd hurrying away, deposited it
in the wigwam. I followed him, and asked
what he meant by- doing so. “Are you igno
rant of our customs!” said he. “When an
Indian dies, all his projierty must be buried
with him. He who takes anything that be
longed to a dead person, will receive a curse
from the Great Sjiirit in addition. After I
had killed Thakakawerente, I took uji his
tomahawk by mistake, anil carried it away
with me. I must now restore it, and also
cover him witu earth lest his bones should
whiten in the sun.”
Outalisso now proceeded to arrange the
dress of the dead man, and likewise stuck the
tomahawk in his girdle. He next went a lit
tle way into t he forest for the purpose of col
lecting some bark to put in the bottom of the
grave, and I was left alone.
The night was dark, dim, and dreary, and
the fire blazed feebly odd irregularly. A
superstitious awe stole over me, and I dared
hardly look round, though I sometimes cast
an almost involuntary glance at the corpse,
whichhadawildand fearful ajipearance. Tha-
kakawei eute lay- upon his back, and his long,
lank, black hair was spread confusedly ujxm
his breast and neck. His half-opened eyes
still retained a glassy lustre, and his teeth
were firmly set against each other. Large
dashes of blood stained his vest, and his
clenched hands and contracted limbs showed
what struggles had preceded death. When
the flickering light of the fire happened to
fall ujxm him, I almost fancied that he began
to move, and would have started away had
not a depressing dread chained me to the spot;
but the sound of Outalisso’s axe in some de
gree dissipated the fears that chilled my
heart, arid I sjient the time iu listening to
the regular recurrence of its strokes, until he
came back with an arinful of bark.
I assisted him in burying Thakakawerente
under the shade of a tall walnut tree; and
when we had accomplished this, we returned
to the fire, and waited till moonlight would
enable us to pursue our journey. Outalisso
had willingly agreed to conduct me home, for
he wished to change his abode for a seasou,
lest Thakakawerente’s relations should dis
cover liis guilt, and execute vengeance upon
him.
We set out about an hour after midnight,
and traveled through the woods till dawn,
when we came in sight of the river, on the
banks of which I had first fallen in with the
Indians. In the course of the day Outalisso
procured a canoe, and we paddled up the
stream, and next morning reached the trad
ing-post on the side of the lake.
A tremendous explosion took place in the
artillery- barracks at San Diego, Chili, killing
twenty-four men. A part of the building
was iu use as a manufactory of shells, car
tridges and other ammunition, and, it is sup
posed, some workmen had carelessly dropped
a loaded shell, which, exploding, produced
the catastrophe.
The Iowa House of Representatives, by a
vote of 57 to 3i, have adopted a constitution
al amendment making women eligible to
Outalisso, who had not informed me at what I seats in the legislature.
was also beard, and good-night twitter of
birds. ‘Very soon,’ sung the children jilaying
on the doorsteps, ‘father will Ik? home.’ And
mother was busy jireparing him a welcome.
Carl Rutter was giving his cows their even
ing draught. Some of the animals stood in
the pond, and others on the edge. Sparkling
drops fell from their cool, wet muzzles, and
enjoyment showed itself in their large,
thoughtful eyes. They moved lazily. The
heat of the jiast day' hud oppressed them; but
their master was in no hurry. He stood bv
swinging his stiak with an idle motion, now
nipping off the heads of flowers in the hedge,
now snapping at a butterfly gracefully flut
tering across his path. But the young man
was not thinking of wliat he did; ho was lost
in a rove ie. All at once a voice roused him.
“Ho, Carl' a jiemiy for your thoughts.”
Carl turned round sharply, a little startled,
but well-pleased to tie startled, by that voice,
—to be suddenly clujijieil on the shoulder by
the hand of its owner, A bright smile spread
over his honest face.
“What, you 1” lie cried, in reply. “You?
Well, you know my thoughts, surely. It is
always the same subject—Christiane, Chris-
taine. ”
The girl laughed and blushed.
It was a handsome maiden of eighteen sum
mers who hail surprised him. She carried a
pitcher on her head, and was going to draw
water at the fountain. With soft footstep
she had stolen uu behind the peasant to ask
her question.
The two were to be married when Chris
tiane was a little older, and her parents hail
arranged wliat should be her portion, and
Carl Rutter had set his house in order; so
when a few minutes could lie spured they
talked of the future. It looked bright and
prosperous. Anticipation was like a sunbeam.
They basked in it. It was a peep into the
promised land. Hand in hand they stood
talking, Christiane had set do i n her pitcher,
and Carl hail dropped his stick. But they
did not say much. Looks seemed better than
words. The eyes of each reflected the love
and liojie in the eyes of the otiier, and that
was Paradise.
“ I must go now,” said the girl presently.
“See, the cows have done drinking, and are
moving off of their own accord. Goodbye,
Carl. I’ll see you again again soon.”
“Yes, very soon, 1 hope,” murmured the
young man, gazing after Christiane until she
disapjieared round a turning.
Christiane tripl'd! on down the lane. It was
bordered with beech and fir, with fields anil
orchards, and the scent of w ild flowers and
fruit bl ssonis filled the air. The fountain
was not a', a great distance. It flowed under
a majestic cedar, and was supplied by a naK
ural spring. The girl set her picture under
the fountain, and sat down to indulge a little
longer in the pleasant thoughts which had
engrossed her mind all down the lane. Not
furlong. Her meditations werejnterrupted
by the sound of hoofs and wheels. A vehicle
appeared, attended by a cloud of dust, and
Christia no started up with surprise and curi
osity. A pair of handsome horses, a couple
of well-dressed servants, and a young lady
in an open carriage was a sight unusual in
that neighborhood. Who could it be? Wimple
Christiane was inclined to think it was the
Grand ?/n.-hess herself. The carriage drew
.u iu. A V i£ fxifrvosnA
was no thoroughfare. It only led to J. farm
er's homestead. With her bright eyes'lull of
wonder, the giri stood motionless, "watching
the advance. Suddenly there was a pause,
and the coachman beckoned to her. She ran
forward.
“We have lost our way, madehen: which
is the road to L ?”
Christiane began to give instructions, and
while she was speaking the lady observed
her. She had been leaning back with an air
ol fatigue, but she went forward now with
an expression of interest. Her face was
young, and her bonnet was rich with satin
and feathers. Gems of great value trem
bled in her ears. Her bands were ele
gantly gloved. She held in one of
them a pocket - handkerchief trimmed
with Valenciennes luce of the most expensive
workmanship, and similar lace was wound
round her throat. Her toilette had doubtless
cost a fortune, and the very movement of
her head showed that she had had an educa
tion which enabled her to grace it.
Cbristiane’s admiration was undisguised.
“What is your name !” askdl the stranger.
“Chrisrane.”
“A pretty name,” said the young lady,
with a musical laugh. “Where do you live,
Christiane ? and what do you do for a liv
ing ?’’
•‘I dwell with my mother, and help her to
work.”
"Are you contented <”
“Oh, yes, madame,” said the girl. “We
never want bread—the good God gives us
our daily bread.”
“But you have to work hard for it 1”
“That is true; and why not ? My mother
says the fruit of our hands is sweet.”
“Well, well, so it may lie: but 1 should not
like to work,” said the young lady-, with a
shrug of her shoulders. “I should think it
horrible to drudge all day, from morning un
til night, and to get only coarse food and
coarse clothes for my trouble.”
“But, madame, if you had been brought
uji to it,” replied Christiane, with a smile.
"It is all the same Had I la-en used to
such a life as an infant, I should have grown
tired of it as I grew older. Ah. Christiane,
did you never wish to be a lady ?”
“Not as yet, madame.”
“Well, well,” said the stranger. “God
would surely forgive you did t'ou do so.
Here, take this coin as some little recomjiense
for your instruction about the way and your
contentment.”
A gold piece was thrust into the girl’s hand:
a gesture of farewell was made, and the
order to drive on was given.
Christiane watched the carriage out of
sight, and then staring at the gift she had
received, aud wondering at the words she
had heard, she went back to the fountain to
fetch her pitcher full to overflowing.
The mother of Christiane had been linking
cakes. A number of crisp, round cakes,
nicely browned, were each awaiting a little
jam to give them a flavour. The jam was
simmering over the fire, and madame stood
with a ladleful of the tempting pink skim in
her hand, listening to the self-recommenda
tion of two rosy children.
Christiane, who had returned from the
fountain, stood for a moment outside the
door to see what she would do with her gold
piece. A brother, who was devouring a
cake, saw her, but she made a sign to him
not to betray her presence; and he, glancing
ascant at impudent Rudolph, who was heljv
ing himself, remained quiet. “Ah,” thought
he, “Christiane is goiug to catch Rudolph,
and tell of him. 1 am glad of it. Mother
will not listen to me when I speak of his
faults.”
The good mother divided the spoil in her
ladle between her two darlings. “I love you
each so well,” she said, “I must give an
equal portion to bothand she gave it.
She smiled as the words were uttered, and
her smiles appeared to light up the whole of
the large arched kitchen which was growing
dark. Even the the great chimney, into
which the fowls sometimes adventured them
selves, and the flags, seemed to catch a ray
of its brightness. Madame had been hand
some, like her daughter, but her beauty was
almost faded. Few traces of it remained on
her usually grave face. It had lieen prema
turely washed out by some years of trouble,
but when she smiled all the old fascination
returned like a flash of lightning,
was beautiful again for a moment.
Christiane entered suddenly, with a merry
exclamation, and set down her pitcher.
“Mother what do you think! Mother, I have
had an adventure,” and she began to give an
account of her meeting and conversation
with the stranger. Then she laid down the
gold piece among the cakes, and looking
round at the children said, “It will buy
many things; shoes for you, little Pauline:
something for Rudolph; something for Auton;
and something for Fabrian. Oh, it is nice to
Ik- rich,” she added. “You should have seen
the great lady draw out her long full purse,
and give the money to me as if it was of uo
value. Ah, me, it must lie nice to be wealthy,
with nothing to ilo but what we like. She
asked me if T had ever wished I was a lady,
and I answered I ha l not thought of it.
Mother, I think of it now, I wish it now.
1 wish I was a lad}', to ride in a carriage,
and live in a great house!”
“Child! child 1” cried madame, with a
sharp voice, “what do you say ?”
Christiane looked at her mother, a little
startled at the tone, and was astonished at
the effect of her words on the face she loved.
It had turned deathly white, and suddenly
taken a frightened expression.
“Mother!” cried the girl anxiously, ‘what
is the matter ?”
Madame without answering her, turned to
j the children.
J “Go, dear children,” said she, “and play
: in front. 1 am tired: I want a little rest."
i And they disappeared like a flight of star-
I bugs.
! When they were gone, the mother sat
; down on a settle by the fire, and covered her
face with her hands. She seemed shaken by
| some inward emotion.
| “I am not ill," she said, in answer to Chris-
; t.iane’s frequent inquiries: “it is only the past.
I am thinking of the jiast.”
"If } ou would tell me something of that
jiast,” murmured her daughter, kneeling by
her side.
“I promised myself to do so when the time
came,” was the reply. “It has arrived very
soon, and l hoped it would never come.”
“Christiane, you know that your father is
my second husband ?”
“Yes, certainly."
“Well. well, thou hast not heard me say
much of tilt- first. Hi- was a gentleman.
Unfortunate was the day we met. Ill-fated
was I when I left inv old lover to marry him.
1 jilungci ijinysclf into misery, anil the memory
of it is stanijied upon my mind in dark charac
ters. He came to our village. He was tail, he
was handsome, he smiled .-o w ium'ngly, he be
haved with such a grace. My poor Rudolph
showed to sad disadvantage by his side. I
was to be married to Rudolph. The day
was fixed, the home was made; many of the
wedding gifts hail come in: some of tiie gue.-ts
had been invited, but 1 allowed the stranger
to flatter me. Ah! he talked as Rudolph
could not, and I listened, grieving the good
heart which worshijijjed me. Rudolph was
sullen: he kejit out of sight; and in the mean
time lie was called away to the wars. The
night before his departure lie came and
begged me to renew my vows, but I v. as
angry with him, because of his jealousy, and
would not. I let him go away, almost
broken-hearted, and comforted myself with
the stranger’s company. Then—then the
stranger would have taken me away to the
city to marry me there, but my jiarents
would not permit him to do so. They insist
ed ujion being present to hear the marriage
blessing, and consequently our own jiri-st
was called in to say it. Afterwards lie in
troduced me as bis wife; but his relatives
were displeased, because I was a peasant.
Ah! I had had no education. 1 had only
my beauty to recommend me: and that was
not enough. His father was annoyed, his
mother was troubled, his friends deserted him.
and I was left alone. My husband was a clever
man, and I was an ignorant girl. He tried
to teach me, and I was dull, liecause 1 begun
to learn too late. My inability teased him,
and as he became more and more sensible of
it, the love he bore me wore off’. He turned,
aside, lie treatedhae coolly, and he said, ‘Ore
understand fiis raii.Vu-K.ntif T wept fatter.
Fine clothes and fine surroundings were now
irksome. It impossible to describe the
long, weary days I si>ent in his large and
splendid home. I had servants, but they
despised me. and 1 knew not what to do. I
used to sit idle, and wish myself back in mv
native vales, in my heavy shoes, in my short
petticoats, with mv hands red with'labor.
And I used to think of Rudolph, and sigh!
Then my husband took to drink, and would
come home night after night, in a terrible
mood. He would swear and abuse me. and
say I had driven him to desperation by in
sisting on a marriage. He would listen to no
arguments in reply. I was too ignorant to
argue, he said, lie made my plebeian birth
and want of knowledge a continual scoff. At
last, one night he was brought home dead,
and tiie next day I dressed myself quietlv and
stole back to my native village. I did not
wait to see whether any provision was made
for me: and no inquiries have been instituted.
I went back to my parents as empty-handed
as 1 had left them", and they received me. a
prodigal, with gladness and rejoicing. They
folded me in their loving arms. They em
braced me, and blessed me. I sat down on
their hearth once again, and rose early, and
went out to work in the field with them as of
yore. No one would have supposed that there
had ever been an interruption in the monoto
ny of our life. Rudolph, too. forgave me.
And—and we must love your father always.
Christiane. Few would have forgiven as he
did.”
"Yes,” said Christiaue, softly.
“And,” continued the mother, “thou must
not trouble him with longings for a lady’s
life. Child! child! he would lie stung twice
did such a desire take l oot in thy heart. Learn
a lesson from thy mother’s jiast. She married
not for love, but to satisfy her vanity, and
she had three long years of misery which she
thought would never end. It might have
beeu a lifetime. Unequal matches fare not
always unhappy, but the incompatibility is
certain to lie felt: therefore it is better to
marry in one’s condition. Let us have no
ambition—only to reach heaven.”
“Yes,” said Christiane once more, and her
mother bent forward and kissed her fondly.
A seed dropjied carelessly by the wav.
which might have produced discontent, had
been jilucked up iu time. Christiane often
thought of her mother's story. She married
Carl, and was liajqiy.
TUI! l»KIY4'*:*!ti IKMACO.
Mlie Cannot Lore Hoi* Husband
And gi ts a Diroree.
Lady Mary Hamilton—Princess of Monaco
until the Pojie decided that her marriage
with Albert of Monaco was not a valid mar
riage—is engaged to a Hungarian nobleman.
When the Church next gives her its nujitial
benediction she will become Countess Tasselo-
Pesselitch'Tolmn. “Compulsion” was the
ground on which she jietitioned Leo XIII. to
tree her from marital fetters. Those who
“compelled” her were the Emperor and
Empress of the French. They made tip the
match. A Jesuit Father, devoted to the
house of Gramaldi, also used undue influence
both with the Emjiress, the Duchess of Ham
ilton and the Lady Mary. Lady Marv
was supjxised, in her girlhood, to be the
sjioiled pet of father and mother. Neverthe
less, her will was so little consulted on the
occasion of her wedding, that at the altar, in
the Palace of St. Cloud, she said to herself:
“I don’t take this man; I abhor him; I shall
never count him as a husband.” Her unex
pressed abhorrence "anil mental reservation
were the sole pleas urged by the doctors of
canon law charged with her suit. No whim
sical passions of the Prince of Monaco were
alleged, no prior tiancailles, no effeminacy
of constitution. Not having a navy of his
own, the divorced prince, who’likes a seafar
ing life, is an officer on board a frigate of
Don Alphonso, and is cruising on the West
Coast of Africa. A cousin of his is prepar
ing to dispute the final clause in the Papal
judgment. You may remember that in de
claring Lady Mary had “never been mar
ried,” the Pope also declared the child born
to her when she was supjxised to be Princess
of Monaco, the “legitimate heir of the
prince.”