r backwoods proverb is perhaps the truer one, as
it is the more honest. But you have not yet told me the full
particulars of your affair with Marian? You say she has gone away from
the neighbourhood?"

"You shall hear it all, stranger. I reckon thar can be no harm in
tellin' it to _you_; an' if you've a mind to listen, I'll make a clean
breast o' the whole bisness."

The hunter proceeded with his revelation--to him, a painful one--and,
although I had already divined most of the particulars, I interrupted
him only with an occasional interrogative. The story was as I had
anticipated. He had been in love with Marian Holt; and was under the
impression that she returned it. She had given him frequent meetings in
the forest--in that very glade where we had encountered the Indian girl,
and in which we were still lingering. Her father was not aware of these
interviews. There had been some coolness between him and the young
hunter; and the lovers were apprehensive that he might not approve of
their conduct. This was the prologue of the hunter's story. The
epilogue I give in his own words: "'Twar a mornin'--jest five months
ago--she had promised to meet me here--an' I war seated on yonder log
waitin' for her. Jest then some Injuns war comin' through the gleed.
That girl ye saw war one o' 'em. She had a nice bullet-pouch to sell,
an' I bought it. The girl would insist on puttin' it on; an' while she
war doin' so, I war fool enough to gie her a kiss. Some devil hed put
it in my head. Jest at that minnit, who shed come right into the gleed
but Marian herself! I meant nothin' by kissin' the Injun; but I s'pose
Marian thort I did: she'd already talked to me 'bout this very girl; an'
I believe war a leetle bit jealous o' her--for the Injun ain't to say
ill-lookin'. I wanted to 'pologise to Marian; but she wouldn't listen
to a word; an' went off in a way I niver seed her in before. 'Twar the
last time I ever set eyes on her."

"Indeed."

"Ay, stranger, an' it's only this minnit, an' from that same Injun girl,
that I've heard she's married, an' gone off to the Mormons. The Injuns
had it from some o' her people, that seed Marian a crossin' the
parairies."

"That Indian damsel--Su-wa-nee, I think you named her--what of her?"

"Ah! stranger, that's another o' the konsequences o' doin' what aint
right. Since the day I gin her that kiss, she'd niver let me alone, but
used to bother me every time I met her in the woo