hatchet of war, and made a league of amity,
with that tribe or people shall the Muscogulgee keep terms of peace."

The Muscogulgee answered, as became him, that "his father, and his
mother, and his brothers, and his sisters, and all the friends of his
youth, were dwelling in the land of his birth--the land of his
father's bones--how could he quit it? Why should he fly his
father-land, a land pleasant to look upon, and healthful to live in,
abounding in quiet glades where the deer loved to browze, in pleasant
streams filled with fish, in smooth and tranquil lakes, fanned by the
wings of the innumerable fowls which went thither for food. Much as he
loved the beautiful flower of the Cherokees, and much as he wished to
make her his bride, he could not become an exile to obtain her. Why
should her father object to her following the steps of him she loved,
and who would be unto her father, mother, sister, brother, friend, in
that one word _husband_?"

And thus pleaded the lover, but he pleaded in vain, for the father
remained deaf to his entreaties and prayers. Not so the daughter. She
had drunk the sweet poison of his words, and, when he clasped her to
his breast, felt that there was more bliss in that clasp than could be
communicated by the kindest words, and fondest looks, and richest
gifts, of those who were the authors of her being. She heard his fond
words, and believed them true; she saw his face, and knew it fair, and
she trusted him. It was agreed between them, that when the moon had
hid herself behind the lofty woods which skirted the village of her
birth, she should fly from the house of her father, with the Guard of
the Red Arrows, to the cabin he had built him beside the beautiful
river of his nation. But they forgot--these fond and foolish
lovers!--that the Great Spirit was the friend of Chepiasquit, and made
him acquainted with all the secret doings of those who would harm him,
or interfere with his family concerns. They forgot,--simple
children!--that the wise powwow had but to feel the stirring of the
ant under the skin of the left hand, when, binding over his eyes the
hide of a young badger, and laying his head upon a pillow composed of
the leaves of the black hornbeam, the Manitou of Dreams would make
known to him every machination of his enemies. The plans of the
youthful pair for flight were soon revealed to the cunning powwow by
his faithful spirit, and he arose in the morning, knowing what the
night w