w that she rather
approved of than condemned the uses to which the dead bodies had been
applied. "Do soldier no harm now; do Iroquois good; got the scalp first;
now make bodies work. By and by, burn 'em."

This speech told Mabel how far she was separated from her friend in
character; and it was several minutes before she could again address
her. But this temporary aversion was lost on June, who set about
preparing their simple breakfast, in a way to show how insensible she
was to feelings in others which her own habits taught her to discard.
Mabel ate sparingly, and her companion, as if nothing had happened. Then
they had leisure again for their thoughts, and for further surveys of
the island. Our heroine, though devoured with a feverish desire to be
always at the loops, seldom went that she did not immediately quit them
in disgust, though compelled by her apprehensions to return again in
a few minutes, called by the rustling of leaves, or the sighing of the
wind. It was, indeed, a solemn thing to look out upon that deserted
spot, peopled by the dead in the panoply of the living, and thrown into
the attitudes and acts of careless merriment and rude enjoyment. The
effect on our heroine was much as if she had found herself an observer
of the revelries of demons.

Throughout the livelong day not an Indian nor a Frenchman was to be
seen, and night closed over the frightful but silent masquerade, with
the steady and unalterable progress with which the earth obeys her
laws, indifferent to the petty actors and petty scenes that are in daily
bustle and daily occurrence on her bosom. The night was far more quiet
than that which had preceded it, and Mabel slept with an increasing
confidence; for she now felt satisfied that her own fate would not
be decided until the return of her father. The following day he was
expected, however, and when our heroine awoke, she ran eagerly to the
loops in order to ascertain the state of the weather and the aspect of
the skies, as well as the condition of the island. There lounged the
fearful group on the grass; the fisherman still hung over the water,
seemingly intent on his sport; and the distorted countenance of Jennie
glared from out the hut in horrible contortions. But the weather had
changed; the wind blew fresh from the southward, and though the air was
bland, it was filled with the elements of storm.

"This grows more and more difficult to bear, June," Mabel said, when she
left the win