adly from the spot, followed by all his
people. Still lay To-ke-ah there, grasping the form of his dead bride.
The bright star glittered above the two, and then grew pale in the
advancing dawn, but still he stirred not. Brightly rose the sun,
striking the scene into sudden joy, but still he stirred not. Noon
glowed, and then the sunset fell, but To-ke-ah still lay there with the
dead one in his arms. Night darkened. Again the star stole out in the
red twilight, again grew bright and gleamed above the spot where
To-ke-ah rested, but still no motion there. Once more rose the sun, and
his first beam rested on To-ke-ah, but still there he lay with the dead
one lying on his bosom.

At last he rose, and delving a grave in the sod with his knife and
tomahawk, deposited therein the form of the maiden, and refilling it
with his hands, stretched himself upon the mound. Os-ko-ne-an-tah had in
the mean while often approached him, but the moment he appeared, up
sprang To-ke-ah with his threatening tomahawk, and only when the father
left, did that tomahawk sink, and the Brave again resume his posture.
Eight days and nights passed, the most tempting food and the coolest
water were placed near him upon the rocks, but still he stirred not.
Food and water were untouched. At last, at the close of the ninth day, a
thunder-cloud heaved up its black form in the west. Forth rushed the
blast, out flashed the lightning, and the thunder was terrible to hear.
But in the pauses of the storm there came a strain of guttural music
from the grave of Jo-que-yoh--it was the death song of To-ke-ah. Short
and faint and broken to the listening ear of Os-ko-ne-an-tah came the
song, and at length it ceased. Cautiously approached the father with a
torch, for even then he expected to see the flash of To-ke-ah's hatchet
over his head. Cautiously he approached, but the form stretched above
the grave of his daughter, was motionless. Cautiously he bent over him,
and then he turned him with a sudden movement, so that he could look
upon his face. To-ke-ah was dead! The faithful warrior had departed in
the shadowy trail where Jo-que-yoh had gone, and both were now engaged
in the feast of the strawberry in the bright hunting grounds of
Hah-wen-ne-yo.

When morning came the grave of Jo-que-yoh was opened by Os-ko-ne-an-tah,
and the form of To-ke-ah, still arrayed in the weapons of a chief, was
deposited in a sitting posture by her side. Again was the grave closed,
an