r blanket couch, high-heaped on leaves,
And let the prisoner free. Under
An old oak tree they said farewell,
Not without Minnepazuka's
Protestations, who plead as thus:

"Oh, come with me, and be my bride;
My home is on the prairies wide,
Where West sweeps westward, in its pride,
To mount the heights of mountain side;
Where yellow glows the sunflower's gold,
And earth rolls rich in mellow mold;
Where cactus bloom and roses blush,
And rivers sweep through greensward lush;
Where deer and antelope and bear
Abound as free as sunlit air;
Where buffalo and cayote dwell
And perch and trout the clear brook swell.
Oh, come; oh, come, and live with me--
To serve thee I shall happy be.
I'll pluck thee bed of down of swan;
Thy cares make light as foot of fawn;
I'll build canoe of birch-wood bark
To cradle thee, my Singing Lark.
I'll rob the white bear for thy frock;
I'll bring thee paint from red of rock;
I'll note the honey-bee in its flight--
Gather its sweets by bright moonlight.
I'll coax the fishes from the wave;
Thy slightest wish shall bind me slave;
My arrow true its bow will fly
To draw abundance from the sky;
The heavens shall tremble at my voice
And thy dear heart rejoice, rejoice.
Oh, fly with me, these arms to bless;
Rest, rest, my little love, on my breast."

"It cannot be, my beaming-eyed,
Until our people are allied.
My father's step is growing slow,
No other child hath he. The snow
Upon his head would pile did I
But go with thee. I beg thee fly."

"No claim so binding is as love--
Oh, come, oh, come, my nestling dove--
Thy hands have set me free. And all
The blame of my escape will fall
On thee. Thy father will disown
Thee; the children cruel will stone
Thee, and----"

"And I will think of thee."

"Leave thee alone to bear such wrongs!
Oh, no. Upon my wrists bind back
The thongs. I will not freedom take.
'Twere better far than price like this
To perish at the stake. Bind back
The thongs."

"Thou wouldst spare me pain? Then,
Go. Each tiny, lapping flame of fire
That fed its tongue on thee, would scorch
The life-blood in my heart until
Upon the funeral pyre, I'd throw
My worthless self. I beg thee go."

"Alas! Thy heart is cold to me."

"Nay, nay, not so; it all is thine.
I give it in this kiss. 'Twill sing
To thee from throat of bird; it will
Echo on the wind; it will
Caress thee from the dew;--'tis all
I have; it is thine. Farewell."

"Gentle One, thou givest