THE FLORIDA POCAHONTAS CONTINUED. 163 



" Ah ! yes ; Jumper-boy, give me a light." 



Taking the stick from the hand of his negro, he lit 

 his pipe, and resumed the story. 



" That young Indian girl had left the village, as 

 quietly as the dew, her moccasin had made no foot-fall 

 on the path, and her paddle scarce splashed the lagoon. 

 When she met her lover, their voices were as low as the 

 eddy of the wave in the river ; and when she parted, 

 and took her course back to the village, though her 

 speed was slow, and her stroke was languid and uneven, 

 yet still, her boat passed like a shadow beneath the low, 

 arching titi boughs, and the hanging folds of the Spanish 

 moss. But, for all this, an eye was on her in the dark- 

 ness, and an ear heard her very breathings, and when she 

 landed, and her bark canoe was hidden in the joint-grass, 

 she passed so near Yahchilane that the tails of fox-squir- 

 rels, that fringed her kirtle, touched the shoulder of the 

 young wife. 



"The girl, once in the path toward the village, walked 

 swifter still, now and then pausing to listen, when in the 

 deeper shadows. On her route, she crossed a dense 

 grove of wild plum -trees, where the scarlet fruit covered 

 the ground, and the low-reaching branches made a sha- 

 dow as dark as a stormy night. When in the centre of 

 the grove she started, uttering a quick, aspirated sound, 

 for a hand was laid on her shoulder, from behind. She 

 turned quickly, but could not see who it was, the grove 

 was so obscure. 



" ' Who is it ?' she demanded, in a low voice. 



