ontracted into a deep bed, precipitates this dense mass of water with
frightful rapidity; a cloud of mist is eternally suspended above this
torrent, whose fall sends its formidable and thundering roar afar.

It was in the midst of this foaming tempest that the unfortunate young
girl was destined to die; at the first rays of the sun, exposed in a
bark canoe above the cataract, she was to be precipitated with the mass
of waters on the rude rocks against which the Madeira broke.

So the council of chiefs had decided; and they had delayed until the
morrow the punishment of their victim, to give her a night of anguish,
of torment, and of terror.

When the sentence was made known, cries of joy welcomed it, and a
furious delirium seized the Indians.

It was a night of orgies--a night of blood and of horror; brandy
increased the excitement of these wild natives; dances, accompanied with
perpetual yells, surrounded the young girl, and wound their fantastic
chains about the stake to which she was fastened. Sometimes the circle
narrowed, and enlaced her in its furious whirls: the Indians ran through
the uncultivated fields, brandishing blazing pine-branches, and
surrounding the victim with light.

And it was thus until sunrise, and worse yet when its first rays
illuminated the scene. The young girl was detached from the stake, and a
hundred arms were stretched out to drag her to execution, when the name
of Martin Paz involuntarily escaped her lips, and cries of hatred and of
vengeance responded.

It was necessary to climb by steep paths the immense pile of rocks which
led to the upper level of the river, and the victim arrived there all
bloody; a canoe of bark awaited her a hundred paces above the fall; she
was deposited in it, and fastened by bonds which entered her flesh.

"Vengeance and death!" exclaimed the whole tribe, with one voice.

The canoe was hurried on with increasing rapidity and began to whirl.

Suddenly a man appeared on the opposite shore-- It is Martin Paz! Beside
him, are Don Vegal and Liberta.

"My daughter! my daughter!" exclaims the father, kneeling on the shore.

"My father!" replied Sarah, raising herself up with superhuman strength.

The scene was indescribable. The canoe was rapidly hastening to the
cataract, in whose foam it was already enveloped.

Martin Paz, standing on a rock, balanced his lasso which whistled around
his head. At the instant the boat was about to be precipitated, the long