fear. But her mother did not permit her out of sight for a moment. Deprived of her sweet child, her sole companion, the spirits of Gentle Dove would have sunk beyond recovery. One morning, having slept soundly, on awaking, she found that Morning Glory had risen before her, and gone out of the house. In dread alarm, she rushed into the wood, and lifted up her voice, and shrieked aloud; but no answer was returned, save the mocking echo, "Morning-Glory! Morning-Glory!" She ran hither and thither, she knew not where, and peered into the thickets with a keen eye, and tried to track her by the footprints of her tiny feet, and kept continually calling her by name, weeping and beating her breast the while, but no Morning-Glory! Exhausted by exertion, and overpowered with grief, Gentle Dove came and cast herself upon her cot in an agony bordering on despair. But as the day declined, and she had given up all for lost, the clear and ringing laughter of the little rover was heard without, and she approached with two young turtle-doves, which she had only slightly wounded. Nito-me-ma clasped her to her bosom, and her convulsions of joy wero almost fatal. When a little recovered, she thought to punish her for so wild and disobedient an act, but she could not find in her heart to lay a finger upon her, and she did nothing but weep upon the head of Morning-Glory a shower of sparkling tears.
The child had, perhaps, attained her sixth year, and the life in the grove was but little varied, when Omaint-si-ar-nah, tired of roaming, returned with his warriors to the place whence they had set out. His wigwam was burned to the ground, his old mother was dead, his Gentle Dove (as he thought) was murdered. He walked apart and spent his days in gloom, while his warriors dared not approach him, for he was more ferocious and hostile in spirit than before. One day he was wandering listlessly on the bank of a stream, waiting for a deer which was swimming with its current, when his attention was attracted by some hieroglyphics on a tree, understood by Nito-me-ma and himself. They were the emblems of true love; and, on close inspection, he discovered that some of them had been freshly made, and signified affection which has changed not, and which is unchangeable. Their time of being made was posterior surely to that when she whom he suspected had been accounted false. Then the sad truth flashed in on
