you for a wife."

It is unnecessary to expatiate on the effect of this downright refusal
of the woman's proposals. If there was anything like tenderness in her
bosom--and no woman was probably ever entirely without that feminine
quality--it all disappeared at this plain announcement. Fury, rage,
mortified pride, and a volcano of wrath burst out, at one explosion,
converting her into a sort of maniac, as it might beat the touch of a
magician's wand. Without deigning a reply in words, she made the arches
of the forest ring with screams, and then flew forward at her victim,
seizing him by the hair, which she appeared resolute to draw out by the
roots. It was some time before her grasp could be loosened. Fortunately
for the prisoner her rage was blind; since his total helplessness left
him entirely at her mercy. Had it been better directed it might have
proved fatal before any relief could have been offered. As it was, she
did succeed in wrenching out two or three handsful of hair, before the
young men could tear her away from her victim.

The insult that had been offered to the Sumach was deemed an insult to
the whole tribe; not so much, however, on account of any respect that
was felt for the woman, as on account of the honor of the Huron nation.
Sumach, herself, was generally considered to be as acid as the berry
from which she derived her name, and now that her great supporters, her
husband and brother, were both gone, few cared about concealing their
aversion. Nevertheless, it had become a point of honor to punish the
pale-face who disdained a Huron woman, and more particularly one who
coolly preferred death to relieving the tribe from the support of a
widow and her children. The young men showed an impatience to begin
to torture that Rivenoak understood, and, as his older associates
manifested no disposition to permit any longer delay, he was compelled
to give the signal for the infernal work to proceed.

Chapter XXIX.

"The ugly bear now minded not the stake,
Nor how the cruel mastiffs do him tear,
The stag lay still unroused from the brake,
The foamy boar feared not the hunter's spear:
All thing was still in desert, bush, and briar:"

Thomas Sackville; "The Complaint of Henry Duke of Buckingham,"
lxxxi.

Twas one of the common expedients of the savages, on such occasions,
to put the nerves of their victims to the severest proofs. On the other
hand, it was a matter of Indian