o his rendezvous.

Not a sound was heard save an occasional snore from some sleeper, and
soon he found his faithful sweetheart in the shadow of the century-old
cypress. She quickly slung his rifle across his back, fastened about
him the revolver and bowie-knife, bound over her own shoulder a bag of
provisions; "follow me," she whispered, and away they sped into the
vast primeval forest.

For hours they hastened in silence, then the maiden halted at the edge
of a dark morass, and whispered: "Here we leave the earth; I know
the way," and they launched themselves into the limbs of the trees,
clambered hand over hand for a long, long time; when well-nigh
exhausted, they dropped down into a little brook, carefully avoiding
any contact with the tell-tale earth.

"Quick," said Sunbeam; "we must hasten up this stream which will
conceal our footsteps, to the great river, where we can hide and rest
in a great hollow tree which I found there," and on they went with
their feeble remnant of strength.

At last, just as the rising sun was dispersing the vapors of night,
our elopers swung themselves from the brook into the branches of an
overarching hollow tree, helped each other to the bottom of this house
not made with hands, and soon slept the slumber of utter exhaustion.
It was many hours before tired nature's sweet restorer released these
two loving children from its embraces, and then it seemed as if all
the fiends from heaven that fell had pealed the banner-cry of hell.

The howls of dogs, and the savage war-whoops announced that their
enemies were upon them; but undismayed by the terrible dangers, they
resolved to die together rather than endure separation.

"My father never loved me," whispered Sunbeam, "because I am a girl,
while he hoped for a warrior child; if they find us, kill me; I cannot
live without you."

"We will go to the Great Spirit together, beloved," was the calm
reply.

Soon they heard the voice of Tiger-tail close to them, talking to his
braves. "They no cross river," he said; "all canoes here, dogs no get
scent, all back to swamp, we find um there, you, War-Eagle, watch
canoes." Again the air resounds with the yells of dogs and warriors,
then all was silent.

"War-Eagle hate me," whispered the maiden, "cos I no be his squaw; but
we must go before they return." Slowly the lovers pulled themselves
upward by the ingrown stumps of limbs, and, concealed in the thick
branches, looked around; no one was