rposes, and
all unfit to represent the mighty winds that rend the stubborn oak, and
the fierce tempests that scatter yet wilder desolation," said the Teton
chief, surveying, almost contemptuously, the diminutive form of the
strange Spirit.

"Tax but my powers--excite but my ire," said the demon, "and the chief
of the Burntwood Tetons may rue the hour that gave birth to his doubts
of the strength of the master of the northern blast. But why do I waste
words upon thee? Bring hither my wicked wife."

Seeing the angry and ireful Spirit determined upon mischief, the chief
departed, his bosom filled with sorrow, to summon the beautiful and
beloved Spirit of Snow to the presence of the being who claimed her as
his wife. He found her not unapprised of the dreadful fate which awaited
her. Bathed in tears, her head reclined on the shoulder of the doting
Teton, sat the lovely Spirit, her eyes now bent on him she loved so
fondly, and now on their beautiful children, who slept all unconscious
of the grief which wrung their fond mother's bosom. At length, with
sudden resolution, she rose from her seat, and, folding the beloved
warrior to her breast in one long and passionate embrace, she left the
cabin.

"I have found thee at last," exclaimed the angry ruler of tempests, as
the beautiful woman approached him. "Thou, who fledst from my arms to
those of an earthly paramour, how dost thou like the exchange?"

"So well," replied the trembling Spirit, "that if thou wilt consent to
let me remain where I am, I will never return to thee or to my clime of
snows."

"Base-minded woman! And wilt thou abandon the glorious destiny of ruling
the elements for the mean one of sharing in the labours of a Teton
cabin?"

"The destiny which thou deemest glorious may be well abandoned for that
which thou holdest mean. However well it may once have suited me to
dwell in the bleak climes of the north, and be the mistress of the flaky
dew, it now more glads my heart to share in the labours of a Teton
cabin. I know, from my own brief experience, that the fevers and agues
of mortality are to be preferred a thousand times to the unvarying,
unchanging, existence of a Spirit without passion, feeling, sympathy,
love, or tenderness. I pray thee let me remain as I am, and where I am."

"And so thou preferrest the earth to the sky; sensibility to
insensibility; a humble Teton warrior to the mighty Spirit of the clime
over which thou wast created to exert thy