at Ostend. I proceeded with all practicable haste to Flushingreached it the second day-and Oh God! found myself the most miserable wretch at whom fortune had ever levelled her most unmitigated enmity. I cannot go on.' He flung himself back in the chair. "I," said the Doctor, "administered a full glass of wine. He recovered his nerve, and thus proceeded." As the Doctor resumed his narrative, a tap at the door of the sanctum elicited a wrathful "come in," and, as usual, the lady with the well-turned ankle made her entrée. It was a professional summons for the Doctor-and Faunce reluctantly obeyed the call. Catching up his hat, he desired me to await his return, and was hurrying away, when a sudden thought appeared to strike him, for he stopped short in the door-way. "My good young friend, excuse me-but no attempt at flirtation in my absence, if you please. Polly's a good girl-knows every bottle in the surgery-and is more useful to me than a bad apprentice. Somebody has told her that she has a pretty leg and sparkling eye, and she don't require your assurance to confirm it. Since your countryman, Captain O'Callaghan deprived Dick Tubbins of his placens uxor," and the ancillary services of his bar-maid on the same evening, I dread Milesian gentlemen who prefix a large O to their patronymics. Do, like a good lad, occupy your time until my return with polite literature-and don't ring the bell, under false pretences to bring Polly to the room." So saying, Faunce thrust an old newspaper into Brian's hand, and than hurried off to the rescue of some afflicted individual, who, without the timely succour of the worthy leech, would, according to Polly's report, have soon been "past praying for." THE DEATH OF THE BRIDE. BY J. W. GRYLLS. HEARD'ST thou the banshee singing Whose vows to her lover were plighted, Though her childhood has scarce pass'd away; She is blest!--but a true heart is breaking, In death his once beautiful bride!- 265 AN INDIAN TRAGEDY. BY AGNES LASCELLES.. It was early spring, by the smooth waters of the Lake of Michigan, in 1837, when, not far from the falls of St. Mary, which connect it with the larger expanse of Lake Superior, the sun having just risen, a solitary man was the only animated object in view. He advanced slowly from a little wood, and, seeming somewhat fatigued, sat down for a short repose on the grass. Placed there, his appearance was that of a middle-aged person, dressed as a trader of the commoner class of the Western United States; and he was armed with a rifle and hatchet, the latter being secured by a coarse leathern belt. After looking impatiently all round, and seeing no one appear, he produced from his pocket an immense slice of bread and cheese, and began to eat with voracity, as one who had an excellent appetite, and not much time to devote to supplying it; refreshing himself by repeated draughts from a good-sized bottle, drawn also out of his capacious pocket. His face, however, was anything but pleasing; for, not merely had exposure to all weathers deducted considerably from his good looks, but it wore an expression half cunning, half ferocious, heightened by his strong predilection for ardent spirits, in which, early as it was, he already freely indulged. The trader having rested himself again journeyed on, slowly indeed, but without pausing till about an hour after the sun had reached his meridian height, when he came to a small native encampment, evidently only temporary, being a collection of huts hastily erected; for the absence of women and children proved that it was no regular settled habitation. Seeing no one, when he had arrived tolerably near, he tied his horse to a tree, and whistled once or twice. There was no answer to this signal, and he walked into one or two of the wigwams, but soon returned, disappointed. "All gone," said he, "after their hunting or feuds. Provoking as it is, I must wait, as they are very good customers to my whiskey." His patience was destined to be considerably exercised, for the sun was declining before any one appeared. At length ten or a dozen Indians of the Potawatemy tribe,-a fine, athletic race in general,―returned to their encampment; some laden with skins of beavers, and not a few with waterfowl and birds they had shot. They expressed no surprise at seeing the trader, but gathered round him with greetings such as "Welcome, brother! the children of the land are glad to see you! Have you brought much of the strong waters of your country? We expected you at sunrise." To these he replied, "The white man is happy to bargain with his brethren, or even to give them what he has got." And, in sign of his benevolence, he again produced his own bottle, and handed it round to the natives, who each took a draught from it, and soon emptied it. At this moment there came up a tall Indian,-not young, indeed, but Time had so lightly touched him that his hand had only added to the dignity and gravity of his countenance, but had not impaired its noble look. His step was firm, and the fire of his eye unquenched, and not a single silver line had marred the hue of his dark hair, or planted a furrow on his calm brow. VOL. XX. X The trader rose at his approach, and said, "Welcome, chief! Has the Great Spirit been favourable to you since we last met?" "John Naylor," answered the native, who seemed least pleased of any at the trader's visit," would be more welcome to Bawbish if he brought not to his people a drink that makes them mad!" To this the other made no reply; but, when the chief had turned away, he said, with a peculiarly evil smile, "When shall I see my brother Nogisqua? is he not here?" This Nogisqua was the son-in-law of the Indian Bawbish; and, being extremely addicted to whiskey, to satisfy this propensity, had not merely sold all the products of his hunting, but even pledged his gun, his hatchets, and his clothes, to the trader, for it. As the chieftain never looked with a favourable eye upon him, Naylor determined to avenge himself by leading his son-in-law into deeper excesses to obtain his fatal beverage. Scarcely had the reply, "He is with us," been returned to the trader's inquiry when the chieftain's son-in-law arrived. His brow wore an ill-boding appearance, and a peculiar air of true native doggedness and obstinacy characterized him. Advancing before Naylor, he gazed sternly at him, but said not a word. The trader, however, knew well how to deal with him, and began, "Brother Nogisqua, be not angry, I will arrange everything to please you." "It cannot be," answered he. "The white man might rather say he has taken everything, and will return nothing. To show, however, his sincerity, Naylor went to his store, and drawing forth the things the Indian had pledged to him, "All these," said he, "shall be yours again, with more whis key, on very easy conditions. But we will talk when we are alone, and when my brother's ear can hear me, and no one else." The sight of his property, and the assurance that he should soon have it again, somewhat mollified Nogisqua; and the trader having bargained with the natives for nearly everything they possessed, in exchange for whiskey, the company gathered round the fire, and soon all became, with the exception of Bawbish, more or less intoxicated. Naylor himself drank very liberally, and supplied Nogisqua, so that they were both in some degree under the influence of Bacchus: but Naylor perfectly remembered the plan he had devised for his friend; and, seeing the natives either asleep or too attentive to the unfortunate liquor he had sold them to heed anything else, he said to Nogisqua, "Will the chieftain's son come apart with me, that we may have some talk?" The native consenting, Naylor retired into the wood, and said, "We must eat to live, and labour that we may eat; else would I give Nogisqua his things, and ask nothing from him. But we must not be fools; therefore, if it pleases him to consent, he shall have his gun and clothing, together with five flasks of whiskey, provided he sells me a cream-coloured pony I saw at his village some time back, and which belongs to him." At this proposal his listener expressed as much astonishment as was compatible with Indian gravity: he eyed the whiskey-seller a long time, and finally replied, "Impossible! Nogisqua cannot. Pony belongs to wife!" "Ay; but I must have it, or Nogisqua is no longer my friend, and I sell his things. What does his squaw want with an animal none of her tribe ever before possessed? And, Indian, if you give it up, I will add to the five flasks of whiskey already promised three more when I come to you again." it to wife," was the reply; "and much mischief "Bawbish gave it would be to take it." "Hearken, Nogisqua," continued the trader; "while night and sleep are on your tribe's encampment, hasten to your village, bring the pony here, and I will take it away before dawn; then, when your squaw finds her loss, she will not know you have sold it. The pony may have strayed, or been stolen; and she will soon forget it. Nogisqua is the swiftest of foot of his people; and if he will set about it, it can easily be done." The Indian replied not; but he rose softly, and, waving his hand to Naylor in sign of acquiescence in his scheme, plunged deeper into the wood, and departed in quest of the animal. Luckily for the trader, he returned before his people had slept off the night's intoxication, else the chief might have prevented his daughter's pony being sold. It was, however, light; and Nogisqua, finding the American asleep, awoke him, and pointing to the outskirt of the wood, said, "White man, it is ready;" and he led the way to the place where he had tied the pony. He seemed now to be extremely pleased with the bargain, and perfectly indifferent whether his wife and father-in-law knew of its being his deed or not. On the other hand, the trader was certain he could sell the animal to great advantage in the United States, and that he had obtained it for very little. Giving, then, what had been agreed on to Nogisqua, as he was about to depart, he said, "All is secret, and perfectly right." "It is no secret," answered the Indian, “the pony was tied; and when I led it away, a boy, wife's younger brother, was about. His eyes were open, and he tried to prevent me. But, if they do guess I have sold it, Bawbish's son-in-law will not lie, or even attempt to deceive. He will say, I gave the pony to the white man, that I might not starve." Having obtained what he wanted, the trader thought it would be most prudent to secure what he was possessed of, by quitting the Potawatemy tribe with all speed. The chieftain's son-in-law having seen his friend disappear in the direction of Fort Michillimackinack, took the things restored to him, together with his precious whiskey, and turned his steps with considerable swiftness towards his own habitation, without any presentiment of the doom which awaited him there. It was a pretty and picturesque, yet wild scene, which the foot of a range of mountains north of the wood before spoken of presented; for along its basement were disposed the simple dwellings of a native race of the land, and they suited well with the peculiar aspect of the country. It need hardly, perhaps, be stated, that from here the pony, so unfortunately, as it proved, was taken; and that here at present were settled such members of the Potawatemy tribe as had not followed the hunting-party. Within a large-sized tent, covered with bark, as a great preservative against the weather, sat Miami, the daughter of Bawbish, and wife of Nogisqua, the handsomest squaw of her tribe. Her features resembled those of her father considerably; but the gravity which he affected, in common with the rest of the natives, was not perceptible in his daughter at this moment. Her whole dark countenance was animated with passion; her hands were clenched; her eyes rolled restlessly, and her brow darkened with a complete thunderstorm of anger. Her dress consisted of a yellow cotton material, obtained from the European forts, with a handkerchief of the same colour for a head-dress; and not far from her, in a rude cradle composed of matting and twigs from the pine-tree, lay an infant of the dusky hue of the Potawatemy race, sleeping soundly. The squaw had been employed in weaving grass for the formation of a mat; but her impatient spirit rendered her at this moment incapable of pursuing her occupation, and she was about to leave the tent, when she was prevented by the entrance of a boy, breathless and heated. This was her younger brother, whom Miami had sent to watch the pony; he had been wandering about last night, and had seen Nogisqua unloose it, and lead it away. Astonished at this, he had run to tell his sister, who immediately bade him return, and find out what her husband was going to do with it. But while he was away the squaw came to the conclusion that Nogisqua could have taken it for no other purpose than to exchange it with some of the traders of the white men for whiskey; and this idea had fomented her anger to a height very rare among the Indian women, usually mild and patient under wrongs. But Miami was the daugh ter of a chief; the pony had been given to her by her father before she became the squaw of Nogisqua; none of her tribe had ever possessed, or hardly seen such an animal, so that the loss might be well expected to be very grievous. When therefore the boy entered the tent, she said, “ Tlascala, -brother, the pony?" "The pony is gone: the mountain, the wood, the plain is searched; but the pony is neither grazing on the one, nor entangled in the other, nor roaming on the plain!" At length Nogisqua returned, half intoxicated, bearing the rifle and clothing for which he had given up the pony. Arrived, he threw himself on the ground, and was about to apply again to his new store of whiskey, when Miami snatched away the flask, exclaiming, "The pony! - the pony! Has the white man given this for the pony?" The Indian, tired with his journey, and the spirit he had freely partaken of benumbing his faculties, folded his arms, and after a long pause replied with great gravity, 66 Nogisqua has sold him. He could not hunt; he could not get food; he could not get strong drink. White man had all; white man wanted the pony; he had him, and Nogisqua has all this,—and this,"-pointing to the clothes and flasks. But at this confession the dark blood of the squaw boiled fiercely up, and seemed ready to burst from the veins; for two or three minutes her features wore an expression, which, to any bystander, who knew her naturally soft and placid countenance, would have been a sure sign that no common project of vengeance had entered |