ned by the
people of the place.

One fine morning, while walking about the settlement, she accidently met
a fine looking young Indian girl. The young squaw, whose black eyes
shone in the bright sunshine as polished jet, put out her small brown
hand and said in quite good English, "Please mam, won't you give me
something for sick husband?"

Margaret thought the dusky beauty looked rather young to be married, but
she said to her, "And where does your husband live?"

She pointed her hand up the river and replied, "Not far that way."

"Have you been living here long?" asked Margaret.

"Not very long," replied the young squaw.

"What is the matter with your husband?" said Margaret.

The little squaw answered, "My husband be very sick with consumption,
most dead."

"Where did you get that pretty ring on your finger?" said Mrs. Godfrey
to the Indian woman.

Margaret Godfrey had noticed the ring on the squaw's finger, sparkling
in the sunlight, as she pointed her small brown hand up the river in the
direction of her home.

The swarthy beauty, with an innocent smile, as she hung her head on one
side, said, "My husband give it me after we get married." The Indian
lass then began to run her fingers over a string of red and white beads,
that encircled her round plump neck and hung loosely down over a well
proportioned bosom. At the same time she kept scraping the ground with
the toe of her moccasin, and now and again crossing one foot over the
other and resting the tip of her toe for an instant on the earth. Then
she would swing one of her feet about a foot from the ground over the
other. Her dark blue dress being quite short, and the wind blowing
stiffly, she would occasionally display a small prettily formed foot,
and an ankle that looked as though it had been formed in nature's most
perfect mould.

Mrs. Godfrey broke the silence by asking the young woman if she would
like her to go to the wigwam and see her sick husband? The Indian woman
answered, "May be dead now, and long rough walk, no canoe here."

Margaret said to her, "Suppose you come down here to-morrow morning in a
canoe and take me up to your wigwam?" She answered, "Have no canoe, but
might get Jim Newall's, who lives mile more up river, he has canoe and
sometime bring me down here."

Margaret agreed to accompany her to her wigwam early the next morning,
if Newall and she came to the settlement in a canoe.

She said she would go and see Newall, and if