ne to the embrace of a maiden
from whom he had long been separated. I saw the eager flush of delight
on her cheek, as she rushed into his outstretched arms, and beheld the
sweet kisses of affection which were interchanged between the enraptured
pair, and heard the thrilling words of heartfelt tenderness which these
two did murmur in each other's ears. Was not this happiness?"

"It was."

"Would he not do well who should exchange a space of time equal to
thrice the years of a brown eagle, of existence so passionless as mine,
for one moon of happiness like that which those lovers enjoyed?"

"The great prophet of the Tetons is a man of few words. He sees the
Spirit of the Land of Snows determined to become a mortal, and why
should he seek to change her mind? May it be the happy lot of a man of
his nation to gain the affections of a being so beautiful as thou art!
Speak, fair Spirit! my people listen in anxious hope that thou wilt call
some Teton youth to thine arms."

Softly, and with a fearful look did the unearthly maiden make reply to
the Teton prophet. "I saw from my place in the land of frost one whom I
deemed worthy to be the husband of her at whose command the snows
descend upon the earth, and the waters are locked up with a chain, the
rivets of which can only be unclasped by the warm sun of summer. I
beheld him, in my eyes, the bravest of all thy warriors. None hath so
fleet a foot, none so sure a hand, none so fair a cheek, none so stately
a form."

"Surely thou hast named the pride of our nation--thou has described the
Swift Foot," replied the prophet. "Call him hither."

They carried the message to the youthful warrior, who came with the
speed of foot for which he was so well known, and stood by the side of
the beautiful maiden from the Land of Snows. Though it was evident that
she liked the young Brave, yet was not her love shown by the signs which
usually give evidence of the existence of that tender passion. No blush
lit up her snowy cheek, or flushed her lily neck, as it does the cheek
and neck of maidens of the earth when pressed to the enraptured bosoms
of those they love. No tear bedewed her eye, no trembling seized her
frame, no throb of rapture lifted the snowy mantle that hid her bosom.
Her body was bent slightly forward, her snowy lips were parted like a
water-lily, about to unfold itself to the face of day, and her arms were
extended as if they would press to her heart, all icy as it was, the