eld her devoted friend; pale as ashes, but with a calm unshaken
countenance, she stood. There was no sign of woman's fear in her fixed
dark eye, which quailed not before the sight of the death-dooming men
who stood round her, armed with their terrible weapons of destruction.
Her thoughts seemed far away: perhaps they were with her dead kindred,
wandering in that happy land to which the Indian hopes to go after life;
or, inspired with the new hope which had been opened to her, she was
looking to Him who has promised a crown of life to such as believe in
His name. She saw not the look of agony with which Catharine regarded
her; and the poor girl, full of grief, sunk down at the foot of a
neighbouring tree, and burying her face between her knees, wept and
prayed--oh! how fervently! A hope crept to her heart--even while the
doom of Indiana seemed darkest--that some good might yet accrue from
her visit to the wigwam of the Great Medicine squaw. She knew that the
Indians have great belief in omens, and warnings, and spirits, both good
and evil; she knew that her mysterious appearance in the tent of the
Mohawk's widow would be construed by her into spiritual agency; and her
heart was strengthened by this hope. Yet just now there seems little
reason to encourage hope: the war-whoop is given, the war-dance is
begun--first slow, and grave, and measured; now louder, and quicker, and
more wild become both sound and movement. But why is it hushed again?
See, a strange canoe appears on the river; anon an old weather-beaten
man, with firm step, appears on the greensward and approaches the area
of the lodge.

The Bald Eagle greets him with friendly courtesy; the dance and
death-song are hushed; a treaty is begun. It is for the deliverance
of the captives. The chief points to Catharine--she is free: his white
brother may take her--she is his. But the Indian law of justice must
take its course; the condemned, who raised her hand against an Ojebwa
chief, must die. In vain were the tempting stores of scarlet cloth and
beads for the women, with powder and shot, laid before the chief: the
arrows of six warriors were fitted to the string, and again the dance
and song commenced, as if, like the roll of the drum and clangour of
the trumpet, it were necessary to the excitement of strong and powerful
feelings, and the suppression of all tenderer emotions.

And now a wild and solemn voice was heard, unearthly in its tones,
rising above the yells