ed naturalist. "I am indisposed
to matrimony in general, and more especially to all admixture of the
varieties of species, which only tend to tarnish the beauty and to
interrupt the harmony of nature. Moreover, it is a painful innovation on
the order of all nomenclatures."

"Ay, ay, you have reason enough for your distaste to such a life; but
should these Siouxes get you fairly into their village, such would be
your luck, as certain as that the sun rises and sets at the pleasure of
the Lord."

"Marry me to a woman who is not adorned with the comeliness of the
species!" responded the Doctor. "Of what crime have I been guilty,
that so grievous a punishment should await the offence? To marry a man
against the movements of his will, is to do a violence to human nature!"

"Now, that you speak of natur', I have hopes that the gift of reason has
not altogether deserted your brain," returned the old man, with a covert
expression playing about the angles of his deep set eyes, which betrayed
he was not entirely destitute of humour. "Nay, they may conceive you a
remarkable subject for their kindness, and for that matter marry you
to five or six. I have known, in my days, favoured chiefs who had
numberless wives."

"But why should they meditate this vengeance?" demanded the Doctor,
whose hair began to rise, as if each fibre was possessed of sensibility;
"what evil have I done?"

"It is the fashion of their kindness. When they come to learn that you
are a great medicine, they will adopt you in the tribe, and some mighty
chief will give you his name, and perhaps his daughter, or it may be a
wife or two of his own, who have dwelt long in his lodge, and of whose
value he is a judge by experience."

"The Governor and Founder of natural harmony protect me!" ejaculated the
Doctor. "I have no affinity to a single consort, much less to duplicates
and triplicates of the class! I shall certainly essay a flight from
their abodes before I mingle in so violent a conjunction."

"There is reason in your words; but why not attempt the race you speak
of now?"

The naturalist looked fearfully around, as if he had an inclination to
make an instant exhibition of his desperate intention; but the dusky
figures, who were riding on every side of him, seemed suddenly tripled
in number, and the darkness, that was already thickening on the prairie,
appeared in his eyes to possess the glare of high noon.

"It would be premature, and reason forbids i