ve received from you the hand
of your daughter, and have conformed to the usages of your tribe in all
things, we want you to go with us to our forest home, and we will
provide for you in old age in the same kind manner you have provided for
your daughter. You shall have your choice in the dainty pieces of
venison and wild fowls, and find protection under the roof of our
cottage home.

'There I'll sit by my bride, where the rushes are green,
While the sun weaveth gold o'er the robes of my queen.'"

In answer to some questions with regard to the home of her childhood, by
Esock Mayall, she related the following story of her journey to the
great Falls of Niagara, which the chief said would enable me to keep my
course through dark forests from the Oneida Lake to the great lakes and
rivers towards the setting sun:

"I started on a journey to the great Falls of Niagara, with my father
and mother, to witness the voluntary sacrifice of a young Indian maiden
to the great Spirit of the Falls, or Naiad God of the Water. We pursued
our journey through beautiful forests, over wood-crowned hills, fording
the valley streams without interruption, until the second day, near
sunset, we came in sight of a beautiful lake, whose surface

'Seemed so placid, smooth and fair,
That Naiad might look on to plait her hair.'

"We traced the shores a short distance, coming to a little crystal
stream, the waters of which were cool and refreshing. We concluded to
encamp near this stream, that spun its silver thread to the lake from a
dark ravine over which the branching tree-tops leaned. We followed the
stream a short distance, and built our camp-fire under shelter of a
large branching tree that stood on the bank of the ravine. Near this
tree a cool fountain gushed from a large rock, and made music for us as
it dashed over its stony bed to join the stream below. Taking into
consideration all the surroundings, it was a grand place for a lover of
scenery and solitude. There we ate our evening meal, and, after slaking
our thirst at the cooling fountain that flowed from the rock, laid down
to rest our weary limbs by our camp-fire, that blazed up and illuminated
the forest for several rods around, making the forest look grand, with
its branches interlocked in social harmony, fanned by the gentle breeze
from the lake that whispered through the tree-tops, and sung of passing
time, like the AEolian harp that hung upon the willows along the