142 AN INDIAN LEGEND. 



But the storm lasted long, and hours had passed away ere 

 the young hunter would venture the maiden's life on the tur- 

 bulent waters. In the mean time Mo-na-wing had discovered 

 that the youth was tall and stately, and of noble presence, bearing 

 too in his eagle eye that look of power which always subdues 

 a woman's heart. It was sunset ere the hunter conducted the 

 maiden to her father's lodge ; and when they parted, it was 

 with a mutual promise to meet again. On the morrow Mo- 

 na-wing arrayed herself in her gayest garb, and gathering the 

 freshest flowers for her brow and bosom, awaited the visit of 

 her preserver. He failed not to come, but he almost forgot 

 to go, and when he bade her farewell, the shades of night had 

 fallen, and Mo-na-wing found she could not visit the dell of 

 flowers with her promised offering to the Manitto. That 

 night the spirit visited her dreams. His face was sorrowful 

 and the blossoms of his arrow heads were faded. But he 

 uttered no reproach to the sleeping maiden. The tones of 

 of his musical voice were hushed, for the gentle spirit could 

 not speak through tears. 



When the beams of morning had dispelled the mournful 

 shadows Mo-na-wing arose, and taking a wampum bracelet 

 of great beauty, she bound it with a silver chain from her 

 neck, and wreathing both with fresh flowers, she went forth 

 to present her offering in the Manitto's dell. But ere she 

 reached the enchanted knoll, on which her gifts were always 

 laid, a light step printed the dewy grass beside her, and the 

 young hunter was at her feet. Together they entered the 

 secluded glen, together they offered their sacrifice, and together 



