Listen!"

"You forget I suffer the misfortune of having been brought up under a
roof," she replied coldly.

"That's true," repeated Low, in all seriousness; "it's not your fault.
But do you know, I sometimes think I am peculiarly sensitive to water;
I feel it miles away. At night, though I may not see it or even know
where it is, I am conscious of it. It is company to me when I am alone,
and I seem to hear it in my dreams. There is no music as sweet to me as
its song. When you sang with me that day in church, I seemed to hear it
ripple in your voice. It says to me more than the birds do, more than
the rarest plants I find. It seems to live with me and for me. It is my
earliest recollection; I know it will be my last, for I shall die in
its embrace. Do you think, Nellie," he continued, stopping short and
gazing earnestly in her face--"do you think that the chiefs knew this
when they called me 'Sleeping Water'?"

To Miss Nellie's several gifts I fear the gods had not added poetry. A
slight knowledge of English verse of a select character, unfortunately,
did not assist her in the interpretation of the young man's speech, nor
relieve her from the momentary feeling that he was at times deficient
in intellect. She preferred, however, to take a personal view of the
question, and expressed her sarcastic regret that she had not known
before that she had been indebted to the great flume and ditch at
Excelsior for the pleasure of his acquaintance. This pert remark
occasioned some explanation, which ended in the girl's accepting a kiss
in lieu of more logical argument. Nevertheless, she was still conscious
of an inward irritation--always distinct from her singular and
perfectly material passion--which found vent as the difficulties of
their undeviating progress through the underbrush increased. At last
she lost her shoe again, and stopped short. "It's a pity your Indian
friends did not christen you 'Wild Mustard' or 'Clover,'" she said
satirically, "that you might have had some sympathies and longings for
the open fields instead of these horrid jungles! I know we will not get
back in time."

Unfortunately, Low accepted this speech literally and with his
remorseless gravity. "If my name annoys you, I can get it changed by
the legislature, you know, and I can find out what my father's name
was, and take that. My mother, who died in giving me birth, was the
daughter of a chief."

"Then your mother was really an Indian?" said Nel