see me,
old friend, as hungry as a sea-lawyer, and as dry as a dolphin." He
spoke in English, fluently enough, but with a strong French accent.

Tokeah knocked with his finger upon the table, and Canondah came out of
her room.

"Canondah!" cried the man, stepping forward with an air of gallantry to
salute her. The young girl avoided his embrace, and with the single
word, "Welcome!" slipped out at the door. Our guest appeared
thunderstruck.

"What does this mean, friend Miko?" cried he. "Am I in disgrace? Should
really be sorry for it. As I came across the meadow, your people made
all sail from me, as if I had been a privateer; and now you are as cold
as a nor'-wester, and your daughter as stiff as a frozen cable.
Apropos--you have had a visit. The young Englishman, I see, has been
amongst you."

As he spoke these last words, the stranger cast a lowering glance at the
old man.

"Of whom does my brother speak?" said the chief.

"Of a prisoner--a young fellow who escaped whilst I was at sea."

"My young brother has been here and is gone," replied Tokeah, dryly.

"Gone!" repeated the other; "you probably did not know that he had
escaped from me. But it matters not," added he, indifferently.

"The Miko knew," replied the old man in a firm tone, "that his young
brother had escaped from the chief of the Salt Lake. My brother ought
not to have made him prisoner."

"What! would not the Miko of the Oconees seize the Yankee who came as a
spy into his wigwam?"

"And was my young brother a Yankee?" inquired Tokeah, with a penetrating
glance.

"Not exactly; but an enemy"--

"My brother," interrupted the Miko, "has too many enemies--the Yankees,
and the warriors of the great father of the Canadas."

The man bit his lips. "Pshaw!" said he; "you have the Americans on the
wrong side of your heart, and I have both. That's all the difference."

"The Miko," said the old chief, "lifts the war-hatchet to protect his
people against the palefaces, and to avenge his slain brethren. But my
brother has lifted the tomahawk against every one, and, like a thief,
steals women and children."

A burning crimson overspread the countenance of Tokeah's visitor, and
his teeth chattered with rage. "Truly, Miko," said he, "you say things
which I can hardly stomach;" and with gleaming eye he measured the old
man from head to foot. Suddenly, however, resuming his former
smile--"Nonsense," said he; "we won't quarrel about trifles. Let every