ions. The attitude
was in every way graceful; and displayed to perfection the full bold
contour of the maiden's form. Her well-rounded arm entwining the
branch, with her large body and limbs outlined in _alto-relievo_ against
the entablature of the white trunk, presented a picture that a sculptor
would have loved to copy; and that even the inartistic eye could not
look upon without admiration.

Instinctively I checked my horse, and halted in front of this singular
apparition. I can scarcely tell why I did so; since neither by look nor
gesture was I invited to take such a liberty. On the contrary, I could
perceive that my movement was regarded with displeasure. There was no
change in the statuesque attitude: even the eyes were not raised from
the earth; but a frown was distinctly traceable on the features of the
girl. Thus repulsed, I should have ridden on; and would have done so,
but for that sense of awkwardness, which one feels in similar
situations. By pausing in the marked manner I had done, and gazing so
pointedly at the girl, I had committed an act of ill-breeding--of which
I now felt sensible. Indian though she was, she was evidently no common
_squaw_; but gifted with certain noble traits, of which many a maiden
with white skin might have envied her the possession. Beyond that, I
knew she was the victim of a passion--all-absorbing as it was hopeless--
and this in my eyes, ennobled and sanctified her.

Just then, I had myself no cause to fear an unrequited love--no need to
be ungenerous or selfish--and could, therefore, afford to extend my
sympathy to the sufferings of another. It was some vague prompting of
this kind, that had caused me to draw up--some idea of offering
consolation. The repelling reception was altogether unexpected, and
placed me in a predicament. How was I to escape from it? By holding my
tongue, and riding on? No; this would be an acknowledgment of having
committed an act of _gaucherie_--to which man's vanity rarely accedes,
or only with extreme reluctance. I had rushed inconsiderately into the
mire, and must plunge deeper to get through. "We must become worse to
make our title good."

So reflecting, or rather without reflecting at all, I resolved to
"become worse"--with the risk of making a worse of it. "Perhaps,"
thought I, "she does not recognise me?" She had not looked at me as
yet. "If she would only raise her eyes, she would remember me as the
friend of the White Eag