ief of the Salt Lake the cause of her grief?"

Rosa shuddered, took a step backwards, and, covering her face with her
hands, sobbed aloud. The Indian girl sprang to her feet, and throwing
her arm round her friend's waist, drew her gently towards a neighbouring
cotton-tree, up which a vine had crept and twined itself, and now
dangled its graceful festoons, tasselled with ripe grapes, from the very
top-most branches. "Sad is the path of an Oconee maiden," said Canondah,
after a long pause, during which she had filled her basket with the
grapes. "Whilst the warriors are absent at the hunting grounds, we sigh
away our days in the wigwam, or labour wearily in the fields. Would that
Canondah were a man!"

"And El Sol?" lisped Rosa with a melancholy smile. "Canondah should not
complain."

The Indian girl placed one hand upon the lips of her friend, whilst with
the other she playfully menaced her.

"Yes," said she, "El Sol is a great chief, and Canondah owes him her
life. She will cook his venison, and sew his hunting shirts, and follow
him with a light heart. Let the white Rose listen to the words of her
sister. Soon will El Sol visit the wigwam of the Oconees, and then will
Canondah whisper softly in his ear. He is a great warrior, and the miko
will hear his words, and return the presents to the chief of the Salt
Lake, and the white Rose shall never see his wigwam."

Rosa shook her head doubtingly.

"Does Canondah know her father so little? The storm may bow the feeble
reed, but not the silver stem of the mighty tree. It may be uprooted,
and broken in its fall, but never bent. The miko," continued she with a
desponding sigh, "sees the chief of the Salt Lake with the eye of a
warrior, not of a maiden. He has promised him Rosa for his wife, but
Rosa would rather die than"--

"No, no," interrupted Canondah, "Rosa must not die. El Sol loves
Canondah, and the miko of the Oconees knows that he is a far greater
warrior than the chief of the Salt Lake. But listen! what is that?"
cried she, "turning her head in the direction of the swamp, whence a
loud splashing was now audible.

"What is it?" repeated Rosa.

"Perhaps an alligator or a bear," replied the Indian girl.

The noise continued, although less loud than before. "Canondah!"
exclaimed Rosa with visible uneasiness, "you will not again hunt the
great water-snake?"

Her words were in vain. With the swiftness of a deer the Indian maiden
sprang through the reeds, and i