hose he hears warbled in the
cabin of the red man. His eyes say no. It is well.

It may not be doubted that the beautiful Tatoka had many lovers; there
was not a youth in the nation, whose character authorised the
application, that did not become a suitor to the fair daughter of the
White Crane. But the heart of the maiden was touched by none of them;
she bade them all depart as they came; she rejected them all. The
father who loved his daughter too well to sell her as he would a
beaver-trap or a moose-skin, or to compel her to become a wife, would
have been glad to see her choose a protector from among the many
Braves who solicited her affections. But, with the perverseness which
is often seen among women, who are but fools at best, though made to
be loved, she had placed her affections upon a youth, who had
distinguished himself by no valiant deeds in war, nor even by industry
or dexterity in the chase. His name had never reached the surrounding
nations; his own nation knew him not, unless it was as a weak and
imbecile man: he was poor in every thing that constitutes the riches
of Indian life, and poorer still in spirit and acquirements. Who had
heard the twanging of Karkapaha's bow in the retreats of the bear? or
who beheld the war-paint on his cheek or brow?--Where were the scalps
or the prisoners that betokened his valour or daring? No song of
valiant exploits had been heard from his lips, for he had none to
boast of--if he had done aught becoming a man, he had done it when
none were by. The beautiful Tatoka, who knew and lamented the
deficiencies of her lover, strove long to conquer her passion; but,
finding the undertaking beyond her strength, surrendered herself to
the sweets of unrepressed affection, and urged her heart no more to
the unequal task of subduing her love. Their stolen interviews were
managed with much care, and for a long time no one suspected them; but
at length the secret of their love and the story of their shame became
so apparent as to do away the possibility of further concealment. The
lovers were in an agony of fear and terror. Though beloved by her
father, she had no reason to hope that he would so far forget his
dignity and the honour of his family, and so far sacrifice his views
of aggrandizement, as to admit into his family a man who was neither
hunter nor warrior, and whose want of qualifications would have
ensured his rejection by families of ordinary note--how much more from
that of