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by the arm, and leaving her standing, with her head bent down in front of the little audience, struck his breast forcibly with his open hand, made a deep, triumphal-toned ejaculation, and sat down.

Suddenly, and as if by effort, she raised her head, drew herself up, and, with the dignity of a warrior, looked with calm, unblenching eyes, full in the faces of the friends, and then turned them as steadily upon the Kaya and the attentive Indian.

The half-breed immediately arose and came forward. He placed himself by the side of the squaw, and took hold of her hand, as if to reassure her. Looking proudly around him, and then fixing his gaze upon the warrior, he said, in Eng lish: "Where this running water which moistens our feet is no longer broken by the dams of the beaver, a canoe lies hid in the bushes, and there the only child of the Kaya holds up his little hands to the setting sun; but he does not laugh, and ask for it for a plaything; he knows that his mother has followed it away, and he is afraid that her eyes have gazed upon it so long that they are dazzled, and will not find her boy again. All to-day he has not tasted food, but he is the child of a warrior, and has not cried out; but the night is now come, and the mountain wolves will steal down into the meadows. It is time for a squaw of the Crows to remember, what the scent of a wolf might teach her never to forget."

Pausing for a moment, he turned to the attentive brave, and, making signs with his hands, still continued his remarks in English:

"The eyes of an eagle are so sharp, that they see further than to-day or tomorrow. The great chief of the Crows can find the scalp of a Blackfoot in every month of the year, but he will not raise up another Grizzly to fight for his children, if the son of his sister should starve upon the bottom-lands."

Gardiner clasped the hand of his companion, and said: "That is really, then, the Black Eagle! The most celebrated chief of all the northern tribes running about these meadows without a horse, and now gone, at last, to hunt up a papoose! Wilson, this is a great adventure. If you wish to study Indian character, keep your eyes open on such circumstances as these. Why, the mighty warrior has turned scout;

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and let some other brave lead his fierce band into the presence of the enemy!" But look at Kaya-he has sunk back, exhausted, yet his eyes follow the retiring form of his wife with a look of solicitude and affection which he did not venture to betray in the presence of her brother!"

At this moment, the distant sound of the galloping of horses was heard. It approached the thicket-then the scalpwhoop, given by a dozen voices with thrilling vehemence, was answered by the Kaya with frightful intonations, which rang through the recesses of the copse, and were flung back as by an echo from the woods towards the south. Then the jarring, jumping bounds of the Indian horse, reined suddenly up from full speed, shook the earth; then, through the rustling bushes, the wild Indians of the plains came crowding around the camp-fire.

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most confoundedly. I declare I have eaten a pound of this pemmican, but I am still hungry."

"I agree with you there," said Wilson. "I would like some coffee from our stores, if only to wash it down. But, as to Kaya, he is hardly a dying man, if that fright ful long yell of his may be taken for a symptom."

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"Hush!" replied Gardiner, "there come the Indians; now let us be silent and sober, and these formalities will soon be over." Each warrior now walked round the inside of the circle, shaking hands with Kaya and his friends, and then sitting down in the group as befitted his rank—the older or more celebrated braves taking the front line. The pipe was filled by the half-breed, lighted and passed from hand to hand. When it had made the circuit of the party, Kaya stood up and advanced to the front. 66 My friends are very welcome," he said in English. When a wounded buffalo cannot keep up with the herd, the wolves soon gnaw off his hamstrings; but a Grizzly is not a buffalo, though the wolves of the north did not find it out until they followed him into the bush." He then repeated the same words in the Indian tongue, and thus alternately expressing himself, he continued: "They have made work for the women of the Crows. It is better to camp in bushes when so many twigs are wanted for scalp-hoops. My brothers have looked upon a Grizzly so many times, that he need not tell them that he cannot eat berries without making red stains on his hide and his paws." Pointing with a gesture of contempt at the blood upon his clothing, Kaya sat down.

A white-headed chief rose and came forward. He looked steadfastly at the white companions of the half-breed, and said: "When a man is old, it is no wonder if he be famous. His life is like a long winding trail, that leads up a high mountain many lodge-poles may have been drawn over it, until it is rubbed white, and may be seen a great way off. But when a young man is famous, his life must have been like an open trail in green woods. It is white and is bright, because there has been a shining blaze cut on every tree."

He sat down, and the eyes of the grave circle were turned on Gardiner, who stepped forward without hesitation, and addressed them.

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"What are words," he said. heart of a white man is not like the crop of a pigeon, that a girl of the Crows may cut open and find seeds that do not grow on the northern prairies. Great Spirit made men alike in one thing, if he has given a different color to their skins. They all like to look upon a brave man, and to see a woman whose light is the face of the warrior she has chosen. But white men and Indians do not look apart to-day; for here is one who is neither a white man nor an Indian, but who has shown how much good there must be in both of them, when from both of them the Great Spirit could form a man like the Kaya." He then turned away from the circle, and after being absent a few moments returned with a variety of small Indian presents. These he placed before the old chief. While Kaya was interpreting his address to the Indians, Gardiner and his companion, assisted by one of the young warriors, made arrangements for preparing an evening meal.

It consisted of pemmican, rendered more inviting to both Indian and European by the addition of flour and a supply of coffee from the stores of the friends. This was served out too, to the new-comers, and the ceremony of the meeting having thus been broken, the Indians soon fell into groups. Their guards were thrown out for the night, dry wood was brought to the fire, the horses provided for, and, thoroughly wearied by the eventful day, Wilson soon slept soundly and peacefully on the blankets, where Gardiner still sat wakeful by the fire beside him.

Later in the night he perfected the arrangements for their departure in the morning, and as he again threw himself on his blankets by the side of his comrade, said, "Well, my wild boy, you can start as early or as late as you choose to-morrow, and as for me I'm like the 'Three Elks,' my heart is easy, so I don't care which way we turn.'

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"Who is the Three Elks ?'" replied Wilson.

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wound, is better off than before; for that diamond of his soul-his affection for his wife is now polished by his admiration of her genius and courage. To-morrow night, barring tired horses, and a day of such wild adventure as would turn the head of your European tourist, we shall again be where we were two days since and ready for a fresh start across the mountains."

"But tell me the story of the Three Elks,"" said Wilson, I have been asleep, and am now fresh and just ready for a story."

"Thank you," rejoined his graver companion, but I must say, as the great Napoleon did to the old nobility of France, neither is my blood of dish-water.' I, too. must sleep, and you

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shall hear the story of the Three Elks' when we return to the fort."

The two young men, so unceremoniously introduced to our readers, had come up the river Missouri on the boat of the American Fur Company, which is annually sent to their fort at the mouth of the Yellow Stone. Gardiner, who had spent many years of his life in the wild interior of the American continent, had first encountered Wilson in a city of the south. A mutual attachment grew up between them, and, with that reckless spirit of adventure so peculiar to the citizens of the United States, they had undertaken to cross the Rocky Mountains together, from the head-waters of the Missouri to the frontier settlements of Oregon.

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men of his age. There is little vanity in recording the declaration, for I am no longer what I was. Two years, made up of twenty-four months teeming with the chances and changes of Yankee life, have wholly altered matters. That my faculties are unimpaired. I have humbly to thank Providence. That my character is still as on a good as ever, I hold to be especially bright due to the home lessons and example of two persons of honest hearts and clean hands, whom, probably, you never heard of. But in almost every other particular, save character and capacity, things have changed with me. Fortune is essentially impaired. Health is broken. Good looks are gone. Professional prospects are ruined forever. The strong voice, which once filled spacious court-rooms without an effort, can now, at times, scarcely be heard across a narrow study. The limbs, which, only two summers ago, carried me so nimbly up Round-top and Beacon, are shrunken, shriveled, crippled. Yes, I am a cripple-a crawling, crutched cripple for life, they tell me. There are evil spells and malign influences at work to-day just as they were in the time of Sycorax and Archimago. If you

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of July, 1854, that your humble servant, Tom Fairfax, counselor at law, having a week or two of leisure to throw away on health and relaxation, after a winter of hard professional work, determined to take a trip to Lake George. Most eventful to me was the hour in which I took my seat in the long train rushing through the town of -, on its way northward. A civil spoken friend has lately told me, that at that time Tom Fairfax was considered a clever fellow enough, in easy circumstances, good-looking, of sound health, unimpeachable character, and as fair professional prospects as most young

care to know by what magic all this mischief befell poor Tom Fairfax, turn over the leaf, my story is at your service.

I have already observed that it was a bright warm morning of the month of orations and fire-crackers, when I took a seat in the northern train of cars. After reading the morning papers-a duty which every American holds sacred as the Turk his morning salaam to Mecca-I began to look about me, in that agreeable mood which the prospect of a fortnight's holiday must always afford a hard-working fellow like myself. The cars were full, crowded, indeed; but there was neither form nor voice familiar to me, in the long double row of passengers. I took a look at the country through the window at my elbow; a succession of swamp views, with a foreground of ditches and wood-piles, varied by an occasional eating-house or some desperate attempt at a Gothic cottage, all this was not particularly interesting. The track was new, and as flat and prosaic as the most utilitarian stockholder need desire. The prospect, such as it was, moreover, was soon shut out by the clouds of dust which, as the dew dried under the hot July sun, soon threatened to stifle us. There was no remedy but closing the blinds, and turning eyes and attention within. I tried reading. The book in my pocket, one of the last and most fiercely puffed of home-made novels, proved contemptibly weak and ridiculous-impossible to read more than half a page of such stuff; having made, in vain, several vigorous plunges after a grain of common sense, I threw the volume out of the window, and, as it chanced to alight in a roadside ditch, VOL. IX.-30

tremendous must have been the excitement produced, by this specimen of modern romance, among the tadpoles! Determined to keep all business thoughts at bay, an attempt at conversation with my next neighbor followed; but he was a surly fellow, and would have little to say to me.mls

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In this state of things there seemed but one resource open to me; I began to scan my fellowpassengers more closely. The prospect, in this respect, was neither better nor worse than what might present itself in any other train of cars. It was commonplace enough, the commonplace, however, of Yankeeland, and the middle of the nineteenth century. There was a fair proportion of worthy-looking folks of different ages and conditions, mingled with a dash of rowdyism, washed and unwashed. Three-fourths of the men, with care-worn faces, were reading newspapers of different shadespolitical and religious. About half the women were overdressed-some of them glaringly so. A goodly number of children were eating candy, and some grown-up persons were zealously cherishing national dyspepsia in the same way. Immediately before me sat a group of lads and lasses--young America in its rustic guise-evidently bound on a frolic. The girls were very fine, the youths very spruce: it was pleasant to see their merry faces, and funny to hear their comments; but I could not help wishing that they were a degree less confiding in the discretion of their neighbors-jokes, love-affairs, familysecrets, were alike shouted out with ear

piercing frankness. A poor German emigrant mother and her two chubby girls pleased me, from the broad, goodnatured honesty of their expression, and, ere long, they excited my compassion not a little, when I discovered that all these had fallen into the clutches of the Yankee Mormon in their rear. This last venerable character chanced to share the same bench with a blue

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