ing in the highest degree interesting,
even noble, in its expression. Her forehead was well formed, her black
eyes had an arch, almost a roguish, glance, her finely cut lips, and the
whole contour of her physiognomy, betrayed a frank and joyous
disposition, whilst the slight curve of her Roman nose gave her an air
of decision and self-reliance, with which her bearing and costume
corresponded. This costume was far superior to the usual dress of Indian
girls, and as remarkable for simplicity as for good taste. She wore a
sleeveless calico gown, reaching to the ankles, and her hair, instead of
hanging long and straight down her back, as is customary with Indian
women, was twisted into a knot, and held together on the crown of the
head by an elegant comb. A pair of gold ear-rings, bracelets of the same
metal, and half-boots of alligator's skin and scarlet cloth, completed
her graceful exterior. From her girdle was suspended a pocket knife of
considerable length, and in her hand she carried an empty basket. Her
step could be called neither walking nor running; it was an odd sort of
frisking springing movement. After each ten or twelve paces she stopped,
looked back along the path, and then again sprang forward, again to stop
and look behind her.

"But, Rosa!" cried she at last, as she leaned panting against the
sycamore; "but, Rosa!" she repeated, in the Indian tongue, and in a tone
of slight impatience, retracing her steps, and hurrying to meet another
young girl who now advanced along the winding path, "why do you remain
behind, Rosa?" And so saying, she threw herself upon her knees before
the new-comer, and clasped her arms around her with a rapidity and
suppleness that almost resembled the coilings of a snake.

"Ah, the white Rose!" cried she, in a tone of melancholy reproach; "she
is no longer the same. See, the grass grows upon the path which her foot
used often to press. Why is my white Rose sorrowful?"

The complaining tones of the Indian maiden were so touching, her whole
posture so imploring, love and anxiety were so plainly depicted on her
countenance, that it seemed uncertain whether the interest she took in
her friend had its source in the ties of near relationship, or was
caused by the manifold charms and graces of the young girl whom she now
so tenderly caressed, and who had as yet scarcely emerged from
childhood. This was the same Rosa whose acquaintance we have already
made, seven years previously, at the