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Un des symboles suivants apparattra sur la dcrnidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole — ^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le symbols V signifie "FIN". Maps, plates, charts, etc.. may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre fiimte d des taux de reduction diffirents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est film6 A partir de I'angle supirieur gauche, de gauche d droite. et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images nicessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 H ( ROBKRTSOK'S CJ Ft P^ A P SERIES / POPULAR READING AT POPULAlt PRICES. G L E N'S CREEK m- MAKY JAISTE HOLMES. COMPLETE. TORONTO : J. Ross Robertson, 67 Yonoe St. 1878. QLENS CRKEK. (:haptp:r i. RKMINISCBNCKS. 1 I \ O'er Lake Erie's dark, deep waters,— across Ohio's broad, rich l^^nds, and still on- ward, among the graceful forest trees, gush- ing springs, and fertile plains of KentucKy, rests in ((uiet lieauty, the shady hillside, bright grtitai v Hey, and dancing waterbrook, known as Olc a Creek. No stately spire or glittering dome point out the spot to the passing traveller, but under the shadow of the lofty trees stands a large brick edifice, which has been consecrated to the worship of (Jod. There, each babbath, together congre- gate the old and young, the lofty and the lowly, bond and free, and the incense which from that altar ascends to heaven is not the less pure because in that secluded spot the tones of the Sabbath bell never yet were heard. Not far from the old brick church are numerous time-stained grave-stones, speaking to the living of the pale dead ones, ■who aide by side lie sleeping, unmindful of the wintry storm or summer's fervid heat. A little farther down the hill, and near the apple fee, whose apples moer get ripe, stands a low white building, — the school house of Glen's Creek. There, for several years, " Yankee schoolmasters," one after another, have tried by turns the effect of moral suasion, hickory sticks and leathern straps on the girls and boys who there as- semble, some intent upon mastering the mysteries of the Latin Reader, and others thinking wistfully of the miniature mill-dam aud Hsh-pond in the brook at the foot of the hill, or of the play-house under the maple tree, where the earthens are each day wash- ed in the little " tin bucket " which serves the treble purpose of dinner-pail, wash-bowl, and drinking-eup. But not with (ilen's Creek as it now is has our story aught to do, although few have been the changes since, in the times long gone, the Indian warrior sought shelter from the sultry August sun 'neath the uowa of the shady buckeye or towering honey locust, which 80 thickly stud the hillside of Glen's Creek. Then, as now, the first spring violet blossomed there, and the earliesc crocus grew near the stream whoae ''»t«tH sang as mournfully to the dusky maiden of the forest, as they since have to the fair daugliter of the pale- face. The incidents about to be narrated are be- lieved to have taken place near the com- mencement of the nineteenth century, when the country of Kentucky, from Lexington to Louisville, was one entire forest, and when, instead of the planter's haiidsotne dwelling, now so common, there was only the rude l«»g hut surrounded, perhaps, b^ a few acres ol half-cleared land. Brave,' indeed, must have been the heart of the hardy yeoman, who, f(jrsakingthe home of his fathers, went forth into the wilds of Kentucky, and there, amid dangers innumerable, laid the foundation of the many handsome towns ■which now dot the surface of that fair State. VA oman, too, timid, shrinking woman, was there, and in moments of the most appalling danger the daring courage she displayed ec^ualled that shown by her husband, father and bro- ther. Often on the still midnight air rang out the fearful war-cry, speaking of tor- ture and death to the inmates of the rude dwelling whose tlam«s, rising high over the tree tops, warned some other lonely set- tler that the enemy was upon his track. But spite of all dangers and ditliculties,the tide of emigration poured steadily in upon Kentucky, until where once the Indian hunter and wild beast held undisputed sway, there may now be seen fertile gardens and cultivated fields, handsome towns and flou- rishing cities. CHAPTER IL DEACON WILDER. Brightly looked forth the stars rn one February night, while the pale m«>on, yet in its first quarter, hung in the western sky, ilium' jating as far as was possible the little settlement of P , Virginia. In a large square building, the hoiise of Deacon Wilder, there was a prayer meeting, consisting mostly of iiiembers from " the first families in Vir- ginia." In this meeting Deacon Wilder took a pro- minent part, although there was an unusu- ally mournful cadence in the tones of hi voice ; and twice during the reading of the fiLEN'S CKEEK. either had hapJned o 1 ".'' """'"^ "''""h 'y prayer meetinJ *^ •'"'" ""^ ^'etk. home 1,. the dense forltL Zft 'l* ■ '""'"■** that oJd.fashioned S 1 "^^^"^"'^*'3'. In « l.ort for the crJi^UyJZ ''^'T'^^' *"" iho. commenced the J' d '."' •'^''^'^Pt''-''- puiiiUK down " aiid '.!f„ ;■"« '^'•"'-•e«« of Htcadswere knocfi' nK "'*''."^'-" ««J- wore thrown aJl ways ZlT' ''^'^^J'^thes «;'. a"d things geSraJiv w '^ '"'' '^'^^^^ there Ha. no possfhi; da ^er '7 ./'"* ^^^''^ «" «gau,st e.d, ,,"/;„ '•"'» "'her ,„/„», aj^ain *^hakinS th?^f?^ ""'?« for the sake of t«nin.< his gentle wi .7''"' ' ''^"^'' *"<' '^K'" wouht go w h h^r '^ti'r ""-'y the.r hearts west. ^° her home m the far possession of t, .7 ^'*** Passed into th; *u f ^^'^ ^^'n'^y would !,«?*' ^"''^ '"e'"" a homestead «rs„Ir.,"r"''''"«-the "'• uio ueatli thpv k-j — ~'°n*i-uer, possession of the cI?L. Parsed into th^ who lived .-itL n a stone-rf.' ^>*- ^^'^^er! ther. Old Cati wL Zoi . J"'*'^ "^ ^'^ hro! •"practice, and when n'.l^ * Methodist prayer Deacon Wilder »,lnf T''^ «^ ^'* human probability he sSfuM""^ *^^' '" *" mee them agamf cJd Ca o ' ^ \!!' "1 '^'^ — —.iioa tear old homestead was ^8old'%r'*''*'^'"«-'«e were nearly completed 'anH Preparations he won d bid goocl-bye L tjf ? * ^'^"^ ^^^^^ so well. '•! shalfne'^P^'^^^ he loved tree again," said the wee^^ % ""^'^^ *h« fgainplayin the .lear^uPu'?^^..^^^^. ""ever Oillah we e i^ regretted. But Cato a"d ""' I«"'-«^y come." '"^ before you die. i 'heir Zltlke ^"""^'^'"2 ««"PJe" a^d hi/ • """' ^"*' ^i« cousin s. V the wL P*''«^ unnoticed savp f J""'**'"' *"d sin-e il ^^,^ "'a" » y«ar ■nust be left behind "^'u^ ^'^ '^at Ella "e Had always been I CATO AND DILLAH. "> Jia'""ce8« of ■' Bed- <1 -clothes Nniash- 't where ir being 'beacon 'ed; oJd ^ super, "e/iroes JJteraJ y 8 tit to "■ge, the / whia. 'harlie, of nine he gar- f a ta]] 'da, he taking before from » emi- d.M'as mein- 3d by ener. -the tions lours oved this ever 'hen the our ttle md lie, ad, , J lar n- St le y i '. 8 delicate, and frequently talked tn Ella of dy- ing, HO that Hho readily believed him when hu tolil her huahould die in Kentucky ; she believed, too, tiiat the should see him again ore hu died. Did she believe aright ? The story will toll you, but I shall not. CHAPTER III. CATO AND DILLAH. Everything was in readiness except the little w.ii,"4oa which waa to convey the best lookini;-;L;laa.eeting with the beautiful Alarian, and forming plans for the future, just as thousands have done since and will do again. CHAPTER V. THK NKW HOME. It is n(tt our intention to follow our travel- lers throuL'ii the various stages of their long, tiresome journey, hut we will with them hasten on to the close of a mild spring after- noon, when the whoie company, wearied and spiritless, drew up in front of a large, newly built log house, in the rear of which were three smaller ones. These last were for the accommodation of the negroes, who were soon scattering in every direction, in order to ascertain, an scxm as possible, all the con- veniences antl inconveniences of their new home. It took Aunt Dillah but a short time to make up her mind that " Kentuck was an ugly -looking, out-of-the way place, the whole on't ; th.it she wished to gracious she's back in old Virginny ;" and lastly, that "she never should have come, no how, if marster hadn't of 'sisted aud 'sisied, till 'twasn't in natur to 'fuse." This assertion Aunt Dillah repeated so fre- quently, that she at length came to believe it herself. The old creature had no idea that she was not the main prop of her master's household, and wu ourselves are inclined to think that Mrs. Wilder, unaided by Dillah's strong arm, ready tact,and encouraging words, could not well have borne the hardships and privations attending that home in the wil- derness. Weary and heart-sick, she stepped from the little waggon, while an expression of sadness passetl over her face as Jier eye wandered over the surrounding country, where tract after tract of thick woodland stretched on aud still onward, to tlie verge of the most distant horizon. Dillah, better than any one else, under- stood how to cheer her mistress, and within an hour after their arrival a crackling tire •was blazing in the tire-place, while the old round iron-teakettle, or rather its contents were hissing and moaning, and telling, as |>1ain1y as tea-kettle could tell, of coming g away toward thn " rising iun." Oriann .» heart wuh full of kindly sympathy, aiul from the time wlien Bhe firHt naw Charlie weeping in the fttrest, nhe made a vow to the (irt-at Spirit that hIic would love and protect the child of the "paleface." The vow thuH "I made by the sinip ■ It till le Indian maulen waa rou^h weal and woe it Indian maiden never broken, hu wan faithfully kt>j>t It was a lon^ time ere Orianna ventured to introduce hciBelf to her new friend ; but when she did no, she waa delighted to find that he neither expn-BHcd fear of her, nor surprise at her pcrnonHl appearance. From that time thi>y were inseparable, although Orianna exaottd from Charlie a promise not to mention her at home, and also resisted his entrenties that she would accompany him thither. In reply to all his arguments, she would say, mournfully, ** No, Charlie, no; the pale-face is the enemy of my people, although Orianna never can think they are enemies to her ; and sometimes I have wish- ed—it was wfcked, I know, and the (ireat Spirit was angry — Imt 1 have wished that I, too, was of the fair-haired and white-brow- ed ones." In Charlie's home there was much wonder as to what took him so regularly to the woods but he withstood their questioning and kept his secret safely. In the wigwam, too, where Orianna dwelt, there was some grumbling at her frequent absences, but the old chieftain Owanno and his wife Narretta loved their child too well to prohibit her rambling when and where she pleased. This old couple were far on the journey of life, when Orianna came as a sunbeam of glad- neas to their lone cabin, and therceforth they doted upon her as the miser doats upon his shining gohl. 8he was a tall, graceful creature of nine- teen or t/venty summers, and her life would have been one of unbounded happiness had it not been for one circumstance. Near her father's wigwam lived the young chief Wah- laga, who to a most ferocious nature added a face horridly disfigured by the many tights in which he had been foremost. A part of his nose was gone, and one eye entirely so ; yet to this man had Owanno determined to wed his beautiful daughter, who looked upon Wahlaga with perfect disgust, and re- solved that, sooner than marry him, she wonld perish in the deep waters of the Ken- tucky, which lay not many miles away. CHAPTER VII. MARIAN, The deacon and his family had now been residents at Glen's Creek nearly three months. Already was the leafy month of June verging into sultry Jnly, %th*n Oeorge Wilder at length found time to carry out a plan Uyuu before fornird. It was to visit Alarian, and if he fouml her all which as a child she had iiromised to be, he would win her for himself. Soon after the early sun had touched the hill tops as with a bla/e of tire, (jeorgu mounted his favourite steed, and taking Juke with him for a companion, turn- ed into the woods and took the lonely road to Lexington. Leav- j iiig them for a moment, we will press on and I see Marian's home. It waa a large, double log building, over which the flowering honeysuckle anddaik green hop- vine had been trained until they forme)> inoiithn ho hiin witliin twoiity ritil«!H of hor, anil yot no word or mtm- Miiu^e haada into the summer houae door, exclaiming between brtaths, "Oh, Miaa Marian, hero you is,' We 've looked for you every whar ! <'on»e to your dinner." (hi their way to the house they enciountered qM Sukey, who ciillected the nature of George's visit, nor did Marian's bright, joyous face tend in the least to allay his anspiciims. Hut not hmg could he che- rish feelings of resentment toward one whom he liko "(>K Mifl. «»'•>! haii^h. erfc ftt tirnt ^ctfld the -Marian 'g to ailay he che- 'fie whfirn Wilder, wore off, » «oe thiH probably feelings '8 stirred Before arian of prf)ini8e ^f home 'i reside. lent in known is' time them, er and ad rc- verily recog. of her and It the ) this n the I the then Hien ture ised 'eefc, her she hat ted tty ber i^er ed er hands in hin, Uu Naid. gently, " Don't feel no, Mrianiiii. I hIhiII love yon jiiit as wuU, even if 1 do hiive a •flutter Marian." " Orianna's oidy anMwer was, "Hay her name at; lin, Cliariiv. " H«t ili'l MO, and tlxMi 4>rianna repeated, "Marian Nlarian wl>at is it? Oki, what iait? Marian; -it HoundH to Oriauna like tnusiu ht^ard yeara and yearn ago." " I'urliaps it was a dream," suggested Charlif. " It must have been," nnnwereil Orianna, " but a pb-asaiit dn^ain, fair as the young moon or tiie Huninie'- tlowerfl. Uut tell me more, ("harlie. " " I will do HO," Haid he, " but I am afraid you will forget your leHHon. " !{•' had been in tlin habit of taking to the woodH Home one of hifl reading booka, and in this way he liad unconHuiouily awakened in Orianna a ilenire f(»r learning. For Home time pa.it a part of each day had beitn spent in teacliiii/""•" "olasHed between Itobert and Charlie was not sent by the hand of Ori- anna, but by the vicious Wahlaga, whose curi((sity liad i)een rou.sed as to what led Oriai.i.a so freiir.eiitly to the woods. On that ila}' he had followed and diseoveied her, just at the moment when Robert appeared before her. The jealous sav.age, tliinking that he looked upon his rival, made ready his gun, when Orianna, suddenly coining upon him, threw aside his arm, thus changing tlie conr^ie of the ball, while at the same time siie led the excited Indian aw.ay, and at length succeeded in convincing him that never before had she seen Robert, nor did she even know who he was. The next morning Orianna was ovei joyed to learn that W^ihlag.* was about leaving home, to be absent au indclinite length o^ lime. Her happiness, however was soon clouded by some expressions which he let fall, and fjrom which she gathered that her father had promised to give her in marriage as soon ivs he should return. " It shall never be ; ni), never," said the determined girl, an, im- me.liately after his departure, she took the nanow footpath to the woods of Olen's Creek. Throughout all the morning she waited in 10 '.EN'S CREEK. vain for Chiirlie, aIthouf»h sho several times saw R(il)ert at a flistauce, ami felt sure that he was lookiny for her. She knew that she had saved Iuh life, and this created in her a desire to see him again. Accordingly, wh>,u that afternoon they once more came face to face, she did not run, hut ea »crly asked after iier y()unt» companion. ilohert knew well how to jilay his p.'-l^, and in a few moments Orianna's shyness had vanislied, and she was answering, with ready ohudience, all the questions asked her by tlie handsome stranger. Ere they parted, Robert had learnfiil that to her lie owed his life, and as a token of his gratitude I'e placed upon her slender finger a plain gold ring. He di>l not ask her to meet him again next day, but he well knew sho wouM, for she, who knew uo evil, thought no evil. As Robert had said.'^e teok Charlie's 'place as teacher ; but, ah me ! the lessons thus taught and received were of a far different nature from the alphabet in Charlie's picture- book. Many a time, ere that week went by, the simple ' nlian girl, in the solitude of night, knelt by the streamlet which ran by her father's door, and prayed the Great Spirit to forgive her for the love which she bore the white man, the enemy of her people ; — and he ? — why lie scarce knew him- self what his thoughts and intentions were. He looked upon Oriantiaas a simple-minded, innocent child ; and while he took peculiar delight in studying her character, he resolved that neither in word nor deed would he harm the yentle girl who each day came so timidly to his side. Day after day was his stay at Glen's Creek t>rocracted, ami yet he would not auknow- edge that even ho was interested in her within whose heart ;i passion had been awakened, never more i > siun»ber. The day on which he spoke to Charlie of Orianna, was the last which he would spend at Glen's Cfcfli , and as he did not M'ish to be ahme wh '<> in. bide her adieu, he asked Charlie to tec o. ;<»/*.!;; him. (Jh, how bright was the aijfil;' \\'i{A which tlic maiden greeted them ;.t i'-. '(t, and how full of despair was the ex- jre ';:•>. w U-.'v face when told by Robert v. it I a must leave her! Not a word did she speak, liu'; jlosely to her heart she pressed the little Charlie, as if fearful lest he, too, should go. "Farewell, Orianna," said Robert. *' When the nuts are brown upon the.trees, look for me, for I shall come again." A moment more, and he was gone, — gone with poor Orianna's heart, and left her no- thing in return. Covering her fa:** with her hands, she wept so long and bitterly, that Charlie at last woiuid his arms around her neck, and wept too, although he knew not for what. This token of sympathy aroused her, and after a moment she said, "Leave me now, Charlie; Orianna would be alone." He arose to obey, when she added, " Don't tell them, — don't tell him what you have seen. " He promised secrecy, and Orianna was left alone. The forest was dark with the sha- dows of coming night ere she arose, and then the heart which she bore back to the wig- wam by (irassy Spring was sadder than any she had ever before carried across the thres- hold of her home. The next day Charlie notice*! a certain listlessness about his pupil, which he had never observed V)efore ; and though her eye wandered over the printed page, her thoughts were evidentlv away. At last a happy thought struck him, and draw- ing clos» ' to her, he whisp jred, " I think Robtrl Will be pleased if you learn to read." He had touche.l the right chord — no other incentive was needed— and from that day her improvement inas as rajiid as the most ami)itious teacher could wisii. Fre(i[uenily she would ask Charlie concerning Marian, requesting him to repeat her name ; then she wbu'd fall into a tit of musing, " When heard I that name ? and where was it ? — oh, where V" Yes, Orianna, WJtere was it 1 CHAPTER IX. TllK BlUDAL. Swiftly and on noiseless wing sped on old Father Time, and they who thought the sum- mer would never pass, were surprised when o'er the wooded hills the breath of autumn came, bearing the yellow leaf — the first whitt hair in nature's sunny locks. The golden harvests were gathered in, and through the forest "the sound of dropping nuts was hear i," showing that " The melancholy days Imd come. The saddest of the year." It was the last day of October, and over the fading earth the autumnal sun was shed- ding its rays as brightly as in the early sum- mer. The long shadows, stretching lar to the eastward, betokened appr< ach of night, and when at last the sun .sank to its western home, the full moon poured a Hood of soft, pale light over the scene, and looking in at a half-opened window, shone upon a beauti- ful young girl, m ho, with the love-light in her dark-blue eye, and woman's holy trust in her heart, was listening, or seeming to li!»teu, while the words were said which made her the wife of (ieorge Wilder. Scarce was the ceremony completed, when the light from the window was obscured, a shadow fell darkly upon Robert, and a voice, clear and musical, uttered words wbi| and! witll IwiX houl 11 appl hani is 1/1 I THE BRIDAL. 11 't'ly aroused '•*rt "Leave liu be alone." '«»i "Ihm't at you Jiave inna was left "h the sha- ^e, and then to tJie wig. er than any 8 the thres. ay Charlie 't his pupij^ ^>efore ; and t"e printed vaway. At and draw- ■ "I think n to read. " 1— no other ' tl'at day 18 the most P'equeiitly 'g Marian, !iiiie; then '„ " When IS it ?— oh, ed on old the sum- sed when autumn the iirst ks. TJie 'n. and dropping ind over as shed- b' siini- r to the 'it, and 'estern f soft, in at >eanti. 'M in trust "g t(. ■vhicli kvheii ed, u id u ortls * whicli curdled the blood of the fair bride, and made more than cue heart stand still with fiar. They were, "The Indians! the Judlanx ! — they are coming in less than an hour ! " The nixt moment a tall and graceful figure appeared in the doorway, and laying its hand on Robert's shoulder, exclaimed, •' It is your life they seek, but Urianna will save you!" Then away glided the maiden, so noise- kisidly that but for the tidings she brought, the paity would almost have doubted that she had been there. For a time the com- pany were mute with surprisv?, and involun- tarily (Jeorge clasped closely to his side his Marian, as if to shiehl her from the coming danger. At length, Mr. Gorton asked Ro- bert for an explanation of what the stranger had ^aid. Robert replied, " Two clays since, I was hunting in the woods not far from the house, when a rustling noise behind some bushes at- tracted my attention. Without stopping to think, I levelled my gun and fired, when behold ! up sjirang an Indian girl, ami bounded away bo swiftly that to overtake her and apologize was impossible. This I suppose to be the reason why my life is sought." His supposition was correct, and for the benefit of the reader we will explain how Orianna became possesseil of the secret. The night before, wlien returning to her father's wigwam, she was startled by the sound of many voices within. CuriOoi*'y prompted her to listen, and she thu.s learned that tlie Indians who lived east of Lexington had been insulted by a white man, who liad fired at one of their squaws. From the descrip- tion of the aggressor, she knew it to be Robert, and with fast beating heart she listened to the plan of attacking Mr. Gor- ton's dwoliing on the night of the wedding. Owannu lieard them to the end, and then, to Orianna's great delight, he refused to join them, saying he was too old to contend with the pale-face unless himself or family were molested. The old chief would not acknowledge how much this decision was owing to the infiuenoe of his gentle daugh- ter. He knew she liked the whites, and he knew, too, another thing — but 'tis not time for that yet. Orianna had now something to do. A life dearer far than her own was to be saved, and Marian, ton, — whose very name had a power to thrill eac . nerve of that noble In- dian girl, — she was in danger. The next day Charlie waited in vain for his pupil, for she was away on her mission of love, and the stern features of many an Indian relaxed as he welcomed to his cabin i the chieftain's daughter. Ere the sun set she fully understood their plan of attack, and then, unmindful of the twenty-five miles traversed since the dawn of day, she hied her back to Lexington, to raise its in- habitants, and, as we have seen, to apprise the bridal party of their danger. Not a moment was to be lost, ai\(l while they were consulting as to their best means of safety, the Indian girl again stood among them, saying, '* Let me ad- vise you. It is not the town they wish to attack, — they will hardly do that — it is thh house— it is y/o»," laying her hand convulsively on Roht-rt's arm. " Rut there is yet time to escape; tlee to the town, and leave me here — " ••To be killed ?" .<-ai.l Robert. "To be killed !" she repeated, scornfully. " In all Kentucky there lives not the red man who dares touch a hair of Orianna's head." Her proposition seemed feasible enough, and after a little het-ilation it wa^ resolved to adopt it. The negroes hana, and that ter, she would ly paJc'-cheek- is and suowy ''rianna, he asked how her reading progressed. Charlie answered for her, saying that she could read in words of one syllable as well as any one, and that she knew a great deal besides ! " Robert was about testing her powers of scholarship, when they were joined by GeorgB Wilder, before whom Orianna absolutely refused to open her mouth, and in a few moments she arose and left them, saying, " I shall come again to-morrow." That night, by the wigwam tire, Narretta was listening to her daughter's account of the " white dove," as she called Marian. Suddenly a light seemed to dawn on Ori- anna's mind, and clasping her hands together she said, " Mother, do you remember when I was sick, many, many moons ago ? " "Yes, child," answered Narretta, and Orianna continued : "I slept a long time, I knew, but when I woke, 1 remember that you, or some one else, said, "She is getting white ; it will never do. " Then I looked at my hands, and they were almost as fair as Marian's, but you washed me with some- thing, and I was dark again. Tell me, mother, was I turning white?" " luminy white/ No child, ^ said Nar- retta ; "now shut up and get to bed." Orianna obeyed, but she could not sleep, and about midnight she stole out at the door, and going to the spring, for more than half an hour she batlied her face and hands, hoping to wash otf the otlensive colour. But all her eflbits were vain, and then on the withered leaves she knelt, and prayed to the white man's Ood,— the God who, Uliarlie had said, could do everything. " Make Ori- anna white, make her white," were the only words she uttered, but around her heart there gathered conlidence that her prayer would be answered, and im- patiently she waited for the morrow's light. " Mother, am I white ? " aroused Narretta from her slumbers, just as the Hrst sunlight fell across the floor. " White ! No ; blacker than ever," waa the grutf answer, and Orianna's faith in "Charlie's God " was shaken CHAPTER XI. PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY. •'O'er the forest dark and lonely, Death's broad wing is brooding now, While each day the shadow deepens • Over Charlie's fevered brow." Charlie's health, which had always been delicate ; seemed much impaired by the Kentucky air but with the return of winter, there came the hacking cough ana darting pain, and Orianna already foresaw the time when, with a Hood of bitter tears, she would lay her darling in the grave. The meetings in the woods were given up, and if Orianna saw her pet at all, it was in liis home, where she at length became a regular visitor, and where Marian daily taught her as Charlie had before done. Many were the lessons learned in the sick -room where Charlie lay, fading day by day, and many were the talks whicQ he had with his Indian friend con- cerning the God whose power she questioned. But from the time when she was able her- self to read in Charlie's Bible, the light of truth slowly broke over her dariteued mind. From the commencement of Charlie's ill- ness, he looked upon death as sure, and his young heart went back to his playmate, Ella, with earnest longings, which vented themselves in pleadings that some one would go for her, — would bring her to him and let him look upon her once more ere he died. 'Twas in vain that his mother tried to con- vince him of the impossibility of such a thing. He would only answer, "1 shall not know her in heaven, unless I see her *DSM-er now . •\^^''» she said "t forth fromlh ^*k' *'^^ to-morroV " "'."l"^* through ti ^^*^'o she went . i "^^en ' 8" -n ope„,ng i„ tifyei''^''^ aneuiah ^inJ^ ^ ^rom hern f^^^^her issued TlroDBof 1,1 T*''' 'rom hi, L-. ^'.'•• ?-e d,Jrg'^-i.f • e the ,e,t TZ £'"f 8>'e would keeri T ""^ ""'"ediate d2. '**?' she stood bv tl n^ T*^ ^»s>ied Lr! ,^''®*' I looked on hert,^^"^''^^ ; «or dnf l''^«"tlv tornado wifh ^^"^ f^^'e once , ' ^^^^^ho has OrS """""'•ed, "UiJa M^'eep, ^"anuagone »— «»/« » . ,'^a,— oh, J^/Ja *^ f^uddenly turnin. to Arf '"^ '^^^ vvoijd » '- a pressure of the hid af^^"' ^''^^^na with "tioforS!.?^^ "«conaciousjr *A^ ^'t«e ^ had reMvir.,?'".'' """nna, and „. ,, that niffhf n • ^"'"P'-ised when aV 1 . her W.K ' ^"aiua returnei ' ***^ate hour answered " A? "'^^^'^ hausrhtilJ *' M'ord." ^' ^"*''''*^««"evefye^u/^ «he " Th <• orokeher ^ardf with? i V^^*^ ^^er ian ;\ ^.'''^^'^h I Jght Ori anna de- ELLA. '^ow's Jay cwi-^ '^'ti; sncceeded •f.^'^ed a bJood- ',and siJentJ4, J'-eam of the ^"'•bed sleep, ' H^ouJd." ^'•jf«na,with ™gr. said, '' ti>e JittJe ansHrered, "■« ^^iarian '"ent, she e«t, she at ' r ^"-ginia, as threat tne stiily asked of ate hour '^pressed ^ Condi- '^a, and W'ilJ re- ent. \^ she Ke her e you 3d the ^ould 'ored been 'hieh her sfel «'ho de- ls i k parted. Narretta accompanied her o short distance, and learned from her how much more than her life she loved the white man, and that were it not for this, not half so terrible would be her marriage with Wahla- ga. " I would help you if I could," said Nar- retta, " but I cannot, though each night I will ask the Great Spirit to take care of you." So they parted, Narretta to return to her lone cabin, and Orianna to pursue her way, ehf scarce knew whither. For many days they missed her in the sick-room, where all but Charlie wondered why she tarried, and he finally succeeded in convincing them that she had really gone for Ella, though at what a fearful sacrifice he knew not. CHAPTER XII. ELLA. The town of P is almost exactly east of Glen's Creek, and by keeping constantly in that direction, Orianna had but little dif- ficulty in finding her way. In twelve days' time she accomplished her journey, stopping for food and lodging at the numerous wig- wams which lay on her road. It was near the middle of the afternoon when, at last, she entered the woods on the borders of which lay thesettlement of P . Wearied with her day's toil, she sought a resting-place beneath the same old oak where, seventeen years before, Mr. Gorton had laid his little Madeline ; and the same large, rough stone which he had placed there to mark the spot, and which had since fallen down, now served her for a seat. But Ori- anna knew it not, nor ever dreamed that often had Robert and Marian stood there, the one listening tearfully, while the other told her all he could remember of the sister who, in childish playfulness, he had often called his little wife. It was now near the Ist of April, and al- ready had the forest trees put forth many a dark green leaflet, while the song birds gaily carolled of the coming summer ; but Orianna did not hear them. Sadly her heart went back to her home, and what there awaited her. Weary and worn, is it not strange that for a time she yielded to the despair which had gathered about her heart ? Covering her face with her hands, she wept bitterly, nor until twice repeated did she hear the words, " What makes you cry so ?" uttered in the soft tones of childhood. Looking up, she saw before her & little girl, her deep blue eyes filled with wonder and her tiny hands filled with the wild flowers of spring. Something whispered to Orianna that it was Ella, and brushing away her tears, she answere*], " Oiianna is tired, for she has come a long way." " What have you come for?" asked the child. " Charlie sent me. Do you know Charlie ?" and Orianna looked earnestly at the little girl, whose blue eyes opened wider, and whose tiny hands droppecl the flowers, as she answered, "Charlie, my cousin Charlie? Have you come from him ? What word did he send me V" " Walk with me and I will tell you," said Orianna, rising and taking by the hand the unresisting child, who with the ready in- stinct of childhood, could discriminate be- tween a friend and foe. For more than an hour, they walked rapidly on, Ella, in her eagerness to hear from Charlie, never once thinking how fast the distance between herself and her home was increasing ; nor ha«l she a thought of her companion's intention, until Orianna, suddenlj* lifting her in her arms, said, "I promised Charlie I would bring you, and for that have I come," Then a cry of fear burst from Ella, who struggled vainly to escape from the arms which gently, but tightly, held her. "Let me go, oh, please let me go," she cried, as Orianna's walk quickened into a run ; but Orianna only replied, "I told Charlie I would bring you, and I promise you shall not be hurt. " " Mother, oh, mother, who will tell my mother ?" asked Ella. " I will send some one to her in the morn- ing," answered Orianna; and then in order to soothe the excited child, she commenced narrating anecdotes of Charlie and the place to which they were going. Finding it impossible to escape, Ella by degrees grew calm, and as the night closed in, she fell asleep in the arms of Orianna, who with almost superhuman efforts, sped on until a wigwam was reached. There for a short time she rested, and won from a young Indian a promise that he would next morning acquaint Capt. Wilder of the where- abouts of his child. Fearing pursuit, she could not be prevailed upon to stay all night, but started forward, still keeping in her arms the little Ella, who at last slept as soundly as ever she had done in her soft bed at home. The night was far spent when Orianna finally stopped beneath the shelter of a large, overhanging rock. The movement aroused Ella, who, instantly comprehending where she was, again pleaded earnestly that she might go home. Orianna soon convinced her that to return alone was impossible, and then painted the meeting between hersel 16 GLEN'S CREEK. nd Chui'liu su glowingly that though her eyes were full of teara, her voice was more cheerful uh hIiu aHkud, " Aud vvdl you sure- ly bring iiiu hack?" " A» yonder star' fade in the rising sun, so surely uhall you go home, ' said Onaniia. Then Hpreadiug in her lap tlie blanket which, with ready foretliouglit, she had brought from liume, she bade Ella lie dotvu and bleep. " Ami will you keep the bad Indians otf ?" asked Ella, looking shuddenngly around at the dark woods. •' Ku one will harm you while I am here," was Oriumia's reply, and with the trusting faith of ohddhood Ella, wau ttoon fast asleep, while Oriaiina caret ully watched her slum- bers. Unce during her night vigils she was startled by the distant cry of some wild beast, Init it came not near, and the morn- ing found them both unharmed. Dividing with her little charge the corn bread and cold venison which had been procured at the wigwam, Oiianna again set torward, leading Ella by the hand, aud beguiling the hours in every possible way. J'he next night they passed lu a wigwam, where dusky faces bent curiously above the "pale flower' as she slept, aud where, next morning, in addition to the bountiful supply of corn-cake aud venison, a bunch of spring violets was pre- sented to J'^Ua by an Indian boy, who had gathered them expressly for the "white pappoose," as he called her. Ulest season of childhood, which gathers arouud it so many who are ready to smooth the rough places and pluck the sharp thorns which .'le so thickly scattered on life's path- way ! It was Ella's talismau ; *or uiore than one tall Indian, on learning her history from Urianua, cheerfully lent a hand, and ou his brawny shoulders carried her from ^the sun's rising to its going down. With Ella for a compauiou, Oriauna pro- ceeded but slowly, aud nearly three weeks were spent ere familiar way-marks told her that they were uearing Lexington. "In less than two days we shall be there," she said to Ella, as at the close of one day they drew near that town. ^^ Lighter grew Ella's fo'^tsteps, and brighter was her eye, while darker and deeper grew the shadows arouud poor Oriauna. She was right in her calculations, for on the after- noon of the second day tliey struck into the narrow [footpath which led to Deacon Wilder'b house, aud which she aud Charlie oft had trodden. Here for a time we will leave them, while in another chapter we will read what has taken place since we in the wilderuess have been roaming. CHAPTER XIIL THE DKATlI BKD. Anxiously, as the sun was going down, did .Mrs. Wilder watch from her window for the return of her g8of red having ^^r dinuer, 7' J and the ^ child lost vening air, who join- "ch lasted Wilder, •■an hither ' lost dar- urney wag ' was seen P"liy ap. ^^ where oncerning •y saying, so, and tarted in entirely ^^rianna, '» Weary i^e had brother, ping by 'gitivea. '•"^n, but *'« Were urn. started ina did 'ek be- 'tance. Ella 8 'Krew their I'orse. Ella, 'ber, '^edto > the a for aing inie id." the Clla on )oy the his coltl, pale brow, would never rise again for him. Kind words he had spoken to all, and then in a faint whimper, he said, "Tell Ella ;" but the fleiiUince was untinished, for Ellii stood before him, while the look of joy that lighted up his face told how dear to him was the little girl around whose neck liis arms twined so lovingly. And now a darker face, but no less loving heart approached, and whispered toftly, "Charlie, do you know me ?" "Orianna," was the answer, as on her lips a kiss was pressed.' Then the arms unclasped from Ella's neck, over the blue eyes the h«iavy eyelids closed, and Charlie had gone home. With a bitter wail of sorrow Orianna bent for a moment over the marble form, for which she had sacriticed so much, and then, from among those who fain would have detained her, she went, nor paused a moment until th« wig- wam of her father was reached. In the doorway she found Narretta, whose first exclamation was, " Have you heard? Have they told you ? The Great Spirit has answere-l my prayer I" and then to her daughter she unfolded a tale which we, too, will narrate to our readers. It will be remembered that on the day when Orianna left home for Virginia, Nar- retta accompanied her a short distance, and learned from her the story of her love for K(#bert. To that story there was another — an unobserved listener — VVahlaga, who from that hour resolved to take the life of his pale rival, but his designs were foiled by a summons from the invisible world, which he could not disobey. A week after Orianna's departure, he was taken ill of a disease contracted at the In- dian camp, where he had spent the winter. All the skill of the "medicineman" could not save him, and on the fifth day he died, cursing, with his last breath, his hated rival. When it was known at Deacon Wilder's that .death had been at Grassy Spring, words of kindly sympathy were sent there for the sake of tne noble Orianna ; and for her sake, perhaps, Owann^'s feelings softened toward the inhabitants of (ilen's Creek. It is im- possible to describe Orianna's feelings on learning that the dreadful Wahlaga was dead, really dead, and would trouble her no more. Her whole being seemed changed, and the slumber which that night stole over her waa sweeter far and more refreshing than for many weary days had visiter! her. At Glen's Creek t lat same night C;ipt. Wilder, with his darling EUa pressed to his bosom, was listening, while between her tears for little Charlie, she told him of the many virtues of her Indian companion, urg- ing him to send for her mother, that she, too. might know and love Orianna. But Ella's strength was exhausted long before her theme, and when, as her voice ceased, her father looked down upon her, she was far in the depth* of dreamland. CHAPTER XIV. THK DENOL'KMKNT. As if to mock the anguish of those who were about to lay their last-born in the earth, the day of Charlie's funeral was bright and beautiful, as the spring days often are 'neath th a warm Kentucky sun. Sweetly the wild tie wers were blooming, and merrily sang the summer birds, as underneath a maple tree, a tree which stands there yet, they dug that little grave — the first grave at Glen's Creek. Mr. and Mrs. (iorton, Kf)bert, and several others from Lexington had come to shed the sympathizing tear with the bereaved ones, but besides the nearest relatives, there was not so sincere a mourner as she who, apart from the rest, looked silently on, while into the earth they lowered the cold, dead Chailie. Long after the mourners had returned to their desolate home, she lingered, and on the little mound deplored in piteous tones her loss, saying, ** Oh, woe is me, now Charlie has crossed the great r'ver, and left Orianna all alone. Who will love me now as he did ?" " Many, many, "answered Robert Hunting, who purposely had returned, and been an eye and ear witness of Orianna's grief. *' Yes, many will love you," he continued, seating himself by her, and drawing her closely to him. Then in the bewildered girl's ear he softly whispered, " I am not worthy of you, Orianna, but I love you, and I know, too, on what condition you went to Virginia, and that had Wahlaga lived, he had sworn to murder me and marry you." For this information he was indebted to Narnetta, who, three days before Wahlaga's illness, overhearing him unfold his plan of revenge to Owanno, went to the door of Deacon Wilder's house, and asking for Robert, led him to the woods, and there com- municated to him what he had just told Orianna. Robert did not ask Orianna to be his wife ; and perhaps 'twas well that he did not, for the confession wliich he did make, added to the excitement of Wahlaga's and Charlie's death, was too much for a frame already weakened by the hardships attend- ing thkt journey to anjt human .skill conld not save Owiuino. In tliree days after the oommenci inent of his ilinesH, it was said of him that lie liini i.;nno to the fair hunting j^roiinds, while the iles- jmiring howl of tht^ assenil)led iinliaiis niinyled with the njonrnful waii of the widowed Narretta and the ft'el)le moans of (Jrianna, who ineesHantly eried. " liury me nu(l»!r the maple tree with ( 'liailie, wln^ie we dat when he told nu; — wheie lie told me | " hut what iie told her she never said, . At Marian's rei|ue8t, Mrs. (Jorton had re- | mained for some time at (ilen's Creek, and I one day, not loii)^ after Owanno's hurial, she aoconipanieil her daui,'h.ter to seeOrianna, who, thfiUijh very weak, was still mueii bet- ter. They foun/l her asleeji, liut Narretta arose to receive them. As .\Irs. (Norton's ey»! fell upon her, an undeiined rememhrance of something iiast and gone rose l)efore her, 1 and at last, taking the old Indian woman's liand, she said, "Narretta, have I never met you before ?" " rienty times," was the laconic answer ; and after a moment's paii«<', Mrs, (Joriion continued : " I remember n w, eighteen or twenty years ago your wigw;im w.as near my home in Virginia, and you one morning came to me, saying you were going away to- ward the setting sun." " White woman remembers wonderful," said old Narretta. " I might not remember so well," answered Mrs. (Jorton, " but you loved my little Ma- deline, and about the time you w-ent away she died. " Something out of doors attracted N.ar- retta's attention, and she abruptly turned away. For more than an hour she was gone, and when she returned she was muttering to herself, " Yea, I'll do i:. I shall do it. '^'" Uo what':'" asked Marian, a little alarmed at Narretta'a excited manner. liut Narretta made her no answer, and go- ing up to Mrs. Gorton, said rapidly, " Made- line did not die ! Narretta loved her, h)ved all children, but the fireat Spirit gave her no pappooses of her own, and when she went away she stole her. Slie took her,and ■ under the tree she left part of her clothing and the smashed carcass of a young fawn. to make the white woman think the wolves had eaten her up. .. -\ ^i^i:,',^"':"^!:; Here she stopped, and Mrs. Gorton, gi-asp- ing the wasted hand of Orianna, turned to Narretta and said, "Tell me, tell me bo Madeline, my long-lost " You truly, if this ilaugiiter !" " It is I" answered Narretta. know she was never so fair as the other one," pointing to Marian, " and with a wasii of roots whudi i made, she grew still blacker." She might have added, also, that (ionstant exposure to tile wi.ather had rendered still darker Orianna s (;om|ilexioti, which was naturally a li vh brunette. Hut whatever else she might liave said was prt;vented l)y Mrs. Gorton, who U'M in a death-like ssvoon at her feet. The shock was too great, to know that in the gentle Orianna, whose nobie conduct had won the love of so many hearts, .-.he beheld her long- wept-fordauuhter Madeline. rpon Marian and Orianna the knowledge that they wvva sisters opt^rated dillerently, acc'ording to their ditl'ereiit temperaments. With a cry of joy Marian threw her arms around Orianna's neck, who, when made to coMi!)relieiid the regality, burst into tears, saying, " 1 thought 1 sliouhi be white some- time - J almost ';iiew 1 siiouhl.' My tliis time Mrs. (Jorton had recovered from her fainting tit, and clasping her newly found tlaughter to her liosom, thanked the (iod whoso unexpectedly had restored her. The next day the news reached J^exington, bringing thence Robert, who, in the inten- sity of iiis joy, seeined'hardly sane. At a glance he foresaw the future. Orianna, for so he would always call her, should go to school for five years, and at the end of that time, images of a noble, beautiful bride rose before him, as lie hurriedly traversed the road to (irassy Spring. Their interview we shall not describe, for no one witnessed it, though Marian impatiently remarked that " it took Hob much longer to tell what he had to say than it did (Jeorge when he first came to Lexington." But then Marian had forgotten, as who will not forget, or pretend to. ( >ld Narretta was the only one who seemed not to share the general joy. She looked upon Orianna as lost to her for ever, and heard the plan of sending her to school with unfeigned sorrow. Still, she made no objections to whatever Mr. and Mrs. Gorton chose to do with their child '. and when Orianna was well enough, she gave her c»nsent that she .should be removed to her father's house, where every possible indulgence was lavished upon her by her parents, in order to attach her to them and their mode of life. There was now no tie to bind Narretta to Grassy Spring, and yielding to Orianna's entreaties, she accompanied her to Lexing- ton, occupying a cabin which Mr. Gorto i i d tJ e| A ti ti THE DKNOUEMENT. 19 f«- , " Vou r ^*"' other ■''""' with a ' Krow still '«t (.'oiistant '"'*■'•('• 1 .still lH')u<.h vvaa l"^ whatever rv«!nte many "•'laiii.'hter '"f'fiitJy, ''''••■lllitiJits. ''♦''■ arms "i.'ide to 'to tears, lite some- ••ecovered 't-*'" ne\v]y 'iked the i»red her. L'A-iiiyton, 'le inten- '• At a "I'la, for '«I go to [ of that x'e rose ■sed the view we ssed it, Hi that 'le had 5t came n had "•etend eemed ooked '. and ! with e no Mrs. bild i lUgh, i be here jpon r to I built for her on the edge of the wood at the foot of the ^tftrdeu. Here, inajiy times a day, nhe snw her child, who was now Kohert'H daily pupil. P.iit itohert frmnd it more ditlicult to tame his Indian girl than he hud at first anticipated. On one suh- ject — that of dress— she for a time seemed incorrigible. Occasionally she would assume till' style worn by Mari.-vn, hut soon casting it otT, she wnulil don her old costume, in which she felt and looked most at home. But one day the Indian dress mysteriously disivi)peared. More than a week Orianna sought for it in vain ; then, with a flood of tears, she yielded the point, and wore what- ever lier friends thought projier. Her com- plexion, too, with which great pains was taken, gradually grew fair, until all trace of the walnut stain disappeared. In October she was placed in the best school of which Philadelphia could then boast. She was always shy and timid, but her gentle manners and sweet disposition, to say nothing of the romance connected with her history, made her a general favourite with her companions, while the eagerness with which s.he sought for knowledge ren- dered her equaHy a favourite with her teachers. In spcaki^g of this once to her mother, who was visiting her, she paid, " When dear Charlie died, I thought there was no one left to love me, but now it seems that every body loves me." Here we will say a word concerning little Ella, who, two days after Charlie's funeral, had gone home with her father to Virginia. Almost constantly she talked of Orianna, and on Itiarning that she was Marian's sister, her delight was unbounded. When intelli- gence was received that she had been placed at school in Philadelphia, Capt. Wilder, yielding to Ella's importunities, consented to send her there also. Ella had not taken into consideration how greatly changed her Indian friend must necessarilj* be, and when, on reaching Philadelphia, a beautiful young lady entered the room, neatly and fashion- ably attired, she could scarcely believe that it was her companion of the forest. At Orianna's request they became room- mates, and it was difficult to tell which was more child-like, the tall maiden of twenty- one, or the curly-haired girl of nine. Five years seems a long, long time, but to Orianna it soon glided away, and then she left school, a much better scholar than now is often graduated at our most faHhional)lo seminaries. During her stay in Philadelphia, she had become greatly attached to the city, and Pobert, whose wealth would admit of his living where he pleased, purchased a handsome dwelling, fitting it up acconling to his own taste, which was rathtr luxurious. Six years from the night of Marian's bri- dal, there was another wedding at the house of Mr. (iorton, ano Orianna, now a beautiful woman of twenty-six, was the bride. (Jeorgo and Marian both were present, together with a lisping Charlie, and a dark-eyed baby " Oria . la," who made most woiulrous efforts to grasp the long diamond earrings which hung from its auntie's ears, for, Indian-like, Orianna's passion for jewellery was strong and well developed. Old Narretta, too, was there, but the lovely young creature whose head so fondly lay upon her lap, asking her blessing, was unseen, for Narretta was now stone blind. Already in her super- stitious imagination warnings had come from the spirit world, bidding her pre- pare to meet Owanno. Gladly would Ori- anna have taken her to her Philadelphia j home, but she answered, "No, I will die and be buried in the woods ; " and the first letter which went from Mrs. Gorton to her daugh- ter told that Narretta was at rest. On the first anniversary of Orianna's wed- ding day, Kobert, still madly in love with his handsome wife, whished to give her a pleasant surprise. Accordingly, besides the numerous other costly presents which he brought her, he presented her with a large square box, saying that its contents were for her. Opening it, Orianna saw disclosed to view the old Indian dress whose loss she years years before had wept. Bright as the sun- light of her happy home were the tears which glittered in her large t)lack eyes, as, glancing at the rich heavy silk which now composed her dress, she said, "Oh, Bob, how could you?" and Bob answered, " Hoav could I what?" . a to na's ing. to a