girls; for Indian maidens before they become wives, and are compelled to hard labour in field and tent, are generally as delicate in form and beautiful in face as their civilized sisters. Their beauty is in fact often more striking and symmetrical.
A face more full of heaven’s beauty than the one now kneeling over him, the young man had scarcely seen; and as she knelt, low, soft Indian accents sank into his ear so sweet and dreamlike, that he almost fancied he still slept.
“Would the young Antelope love to be free? Liberty is sweet. Shall the Indian maiden loosen the cords of her pale-face brother? Our braves think the dark-eyed Antelope an enemy—”
“Thy braves mistake me—”
“Hist! Tomahawk sharp. English scalp bring much gold in the French Canada. White brother’s hair fine and soft—too pretty to hang up scalp by—”
“Thy chiefs would not dare—”
“Hist! Red man dare anything. Red man sleeps now. Red man ears very long. Witch-Hazel put poppy-juice in the sentinel’s drink; he sleep very sound. Can the young Antelope run?”
“Swift as the deer, swift as the lightning that follows thy Manitou’s dread voice.”
“Good! When the dark-eyed Antelope is far over the mountain, let him thank the Witch-Hazel for his liberty.”
“The Witch-Hazel shall have beads and feathers, and fine silk,” said the young man, as he felt his bonds loosened.
“Let the young Antelope turn his dark eyes to the moon. The Great Spirit speed him, and in a few hours he will come to pale-face lodge.”
The “young Antelope” did not wait for a second bidding, but pressing the little brown hand of his beautiful friend, he noiselessly and fleetly sped on in the direction named.
The dawn of the day found him far from the pretty Witch-Hazel, and still hastening on in the ragged, tangled road.
The soft, gurgling voice of an unseen Undine called pleasantly to him from the low meadow beyond; and being unable to resist the sweet, pleading sound, and feeling himself at a safe distance
