nd ever can be heard the ripple of
little brooks. Here the leaves will soon fall, ah, me!
and the daisies wither, and instead of the delight of
summer we shall have only the cry of hungry wolves, and
the bellowing of bitter winds above the ghastly plains.
But could I go to the South, there is no one who would
sing over my absence one lamenting note, as you sing, my
bird, for the mate with whom you had so many hours of
sweet lovemaking in these prairie thickets. Nobody loves
me woos me, cares for me, or sings about me. I am not
even as the wild rose here, though it seems to be alone
and is forbidden to take its walk: for it holds up its
bright face and can see its lover; and he breathes back
upon the kind, willing, breeze-puffs, through all the
summer, sweet-scented love messages, tidings of a matrimony
as delicious as that of the angels." She stood up, and
raised her arms above her head yearningly. The autumn
wind was cooing in her hair, and softly swaying its silken
meshes.

"Fare well, my desolate one: may your poor little heart
be gladder soon. Could I but be a bird, arid you would
have me for a companion, your lamenting should not be
for long. We should journey loitering and love-making
all the long sweet way, from here to the South, and have
no repining."

Turning around, she perceived two men standing close
beside her. She became very confused, and clutched for
the blanket to cover her face, but she had strayed away
among the flowers without it. Very deeply she blushed
that the strangers should have heard her; and she spake
not.

"Bon jour, ma belle fille." It was M. Riel who had
addressed her. He drew closer, and she, in a very low
voice, her olive face stained with a faint flush of
crimson, answered,

"Bon jour, Monsieur."

"Be not abashed. We heard what you were saying to the
bird, and I think the sentiments were very pretty."

This but confused the little prairie beauty all the more.
But the gallant stranger took no heed of her embarrassment.

"With part of your declaration I cannot agree. A maiden
with such charms as yours is not left long to sigh for
a lover. Believe me, I should like to be that bird to
whom you said you would, if you could, offer love and
companionship." M. Riel made no disguise of his admiration
for the beautiful girl of the plains. He stepped up by
her side and was about to take her hand after delivering
himself of this gallant speech, but she quickly drew
it away. Passi