girl should be conveyed on a litter back to the
village, where she could have a better shelter, and where her wants
could be better supplied than in that lonely spot.

This they gladly acceded to, and when the sun again set she lay tossing
in feverish delirium on a couch of skins within the tent of Minawanda
their benevolent guide.

Cooling drinks were given her, and her throbbing, burning temples laved
with cold water, fresh from the fountain. This soothed the pain, but it
did not arrest the raging fever that burned in her veins, wasting her
strength, and reducing her to a state as helpless as that of infancy.

The women in the village were untiring in their exertions to alleviate
her suffering, and although they rendered her condition comparatively
comfortable, yet the fever grew higher and stronger each day, until she
became deprived of both reason and strength. The chief stood by the
door of her lodge day and night, apparently without observing anything
that was passing around him, and with the one feeling filling his
entire soul--that of the antelope lying at the point of death, and he
could do nothing to save her. Sidney was more active, and never left
her couch, save to procure something for her. He, with Edward by her
side, caressed her in her wild ravings until the excitement passed, and
she was again calm. Then they would renew their exertions to assuage
the fever, and cool the brain by laving it with water. It was all the
remedy they had, and they used this freely. The ninth day of her
illness the fever suddenly died away, and closing her eyes she slept as
peacefully as the sleep of infancy for half an hour, when her breathing
grew shorter, her chest heaved laboriously, and she unclosed her eyes,
from which the light of reason once more shone. She whispered faintly,
"Edward, come nearer; where are the rest of you? I feel so strangely!
is this death?"

"We are here--all here!" cried Sidney, with a broken voice; "and you
know us now, do you not, sister?"

"Yes, I know you now; but I feel so weak, and so strangely! have I been
sick long? I remember now," she added, "the snake bit me, and I am
poisoned, and shall die!"

"No, oh! no, you will not," said Howe, in his cheering tones; "you will
not do any such thing. You are a brave girl, and will live many a long
year yet. Here is a good draught for you, take it and keep quiet, and
you will be well in a few days," he added, as he presented her some
whey he ha