therefore spoke no more, but with quick and ready hands placed a
knife before him, and, cutting the bonds, left him free.

'My sister is very kind,' said the young warrior warmly, after giving
vent to the guttural ugh! the jocund laugh and the romping of the
dancers permitting conversation--'and Ah-kre-nay will remember her in
his dreams.' With this the Assineboin turned towards the entrance of
the wigwam.

The Sioux girl replied not, but, pointing to the throng without, and
then passing her hand significantly round her head, folded her arms,
and stood resignedly before the youth.

'Would the Sioux maiden leave her tribe and tread the woods with an
Assineboin?' said the warrior curiously.

'Peritana will die if the Assineboin warrior be found to have
escaped, and Peritana would rather live in the woods than in the
happy hunting-ground.'

The Assineboin now felt sure that his youth, his appearance, or, at
all events, his probable fate, had excited the sympathies of his
visitor, and gratitude at once created in him a desire to know more
of his fair friend.

'Ah-kre-nay will not depart without his sister; her voice is very
sweet in his ears, sweeter than the cluck of the wild turkey to the
hungry hunter. She is very little; let her hide in the corner of the
wigwam.'

'Peritana has a father, tall and straight--an aged hemlock--and two
brothers, bounding like the wild deer--Ah-kre-nay will not raise his
hand against them?'

'They are safe, when Peritana has folded her white arms round them.'

This point settled, the Indian girl handed the youth his tomahawk and
knife, and then obeyed his commands with as much alacrity as if she
had been his legal squaw. The warrior then resumed his former
position, placing the willow-withes which had bound him in such a
manner as readily to appear, by the light of the fire, as if they
were still holding him firm.

This arrangement had scarcely been made, when a couple of grim
warriors appeared in the doorway, after listening to the report of
the girls. Peritana, closing her eyes, held her very breath, lest it
should betray her presence to her people, and thus render all her bold
efforts for him whose fame, beauty, and unfortunate position had won
her heart, of no avail. The young warrior, too, sat motionless as a
statue, his keen ear listening for the sound of the girl's breath. To
his admiration and infinite surprise, her respiration had apparently
ceased. The Sioux at this