icing.

In the camp of deerskin lodges and palmetto huts clustered beneath the
grand trees, and occupied by those Indians who acknowledged the good
old Micco as their chief, all were in the open air enjoying the cool of
the evening. The hunters had returned from the chase laden with game,
and now lay in comfortable attitudes on the soft grass, indulging in a
well-earned rest. The women were busy about the fires, preparing the
evening meal, and the children frolicked among the lodges or around the
edge of the great spring, as free from care and as happy as the birds
above their heads. From the bank of the river but a short distance
away came the shouts of a party of lads who were bathing in the clear
waters. To these the Indian mothers listened with a certain anxiety,
fearful lest they should hear the shrill cry of warning that would
announce the presence of Allapatta, the great alligator.

In the middle of the camp stood a lodge larger and taller than the
others, and surmounted by the plume of eagles' feathers that showed it
to be that of the chief. In front of this lodge, seated on outspread
robes, and gravely smoking their long-stemmed pipes, were the old chief
Micco, several of the principal men of his tribe, and Yah-chi-la-ne,
the young Alachua chief. Behind the old chief, and ready to do his
slightest bidding, stood a tall, slender, but remarkably handsome
youth, in whose hair was braided a scarlet feather that shone against
the dark tresses like a vivid flame. His face was lighted with a quick
intelligence, and he evidently took a keen interest in the subject
which the others were discussing, though, as became his years, he took
no part in their conversation.

At length the old chief turned to the lad with a kindly smile and said,
"What is thy opinion, my brave Bow-bearer? Can there be enmity between
these white friends of thine and others of their own color who also
come from across the great waters?"

Very proud of having his opinion thus asked, Has-se--for it was none
other than the beloved Indian friend of Rene de Veaux--answered,
modestly,

"It seems to me not unlikely that there should be. Do not different
tribes of our own race and color often war against one another?"

"Well answered, my son," replied the chief; "thou art right, and I am
inclined to believe that what we have just learned is only too true.
If it be, then am I deeply grieved for the sad fate of those who were
our friends."