112 WILD SPORTS IN THE SOUTH. 



" Yell, and curse, and seething iron probed in the quivering 

 muscles, while the naked wretch feels the licking flame. 



" Ha ! had he not slept in her arms many a night and day ? 

 And up and on dashes the tortured wife, balancing her hate, that 

 was of her race, with her heart, that was of her common mother- 

 hood. And the hours waned, and sick and hot the wind came in, 

 and the odour of the honeysuckle and the water-lily were oppres- 

 sive to the senses. 



" Chatte Echo, the Red Deer, was a young chief of the Apa- 

 laches, of a noble name and tried courage. In Chatte Echo's 

 cabin hung the skins of ten panthers, and behind his house 

 stretched a field of maize and melons that was smaller in size 

 than none but the cacique's. This warrior had loved Yahchilane ; 

 but when Ortez came to Apalache, his suit was discarded ; and 

 ever since then he had remained unmated. He had always been 

 an enemy to Ortez, and was now one of the sentinels that watched 

 over him in prison. Posted on the side toward the sea, from the 

 low rampart where he stood he could look out on the water and 

 down into the inner fort where Ortez sat. A proud man was he 

 that night, and none in all the band would guard the prisoner surer. 

 As he was leaning on his spear and thinking of his revenge, a 

 canoe floated up from the water, and among the bending reeds. It 

 came so whist the sentinel did not hear it, and the fog was so 

 heavy he did not see it until it touched the wall, and an Indian 

 woman stepped on to the parapet. Chatte Echo would have 

 struck at her with his spear, but she seized his arm, and, bringing 

 her face close to his, he recognised Yahchilane. 



" A moment's pause followed this strange interview. She 

 seemed to be studying him ; and he was wondering at her. Had 

 she attempted force, he would have called ; but her pleading look 

 kept him silent. A little of the old love seemed softening his eye, 

 and the touch of her hand thrilled his arm. 



" ' Chatte Echo, you have my husband here, let him go.' Her 

 voice was low and inquiring. 



 ' Sooner a wild cat when I had my arrow drawn to shoot,' 

 replied the warrior in a bitter tone. 



" * He shall flee us, and will trouble you no more.' 



