Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1828-07-04

oucCtisut III tHc ucdItS OI cScu tue inOSt
insignificant. Then the idea that, though
an Indian, she was princess. and that
her fathers extensive lands on the Mis-
souri, were daily becoming of more aud
more consequence tn his ambitious ma
ton, led him to think of marriage with
her as desirable object. His eyes and
his manner. had said this, long before the
old chief began to suspect il; and he al
lowed the willy Frenchman to twine
himself almost as closely around his heart,
as he had around the more yielding soul
Of his darling child.
Though exceedingly indolent by nature,
FIoriInond de Rance had acquired skill
in many graceful arts, which excited the
wonder of the savages. lie fenced well
enough to foil the most expert antagonist,
and in hunting his rifle was sure to car
ry death to the game. These accomplish
ments, and the facility with which. his
plant nation conform to the usages of
savage life, made him universal favor.
ite, and at his request, he was formally
adopted as one Of the tribe. But con-
scious as he was Of his power, it was long
before he dared TO ask for the daughter
Of the naughty chief When he did make
the daring proposition, it was received
with still and terrible wrath, that might
well frighten him from his purpose. Rage
showed itself only in the swelling veins
and clenched hand ofthe old chief. With
the boasted coldness and self possession
Of an Indian, he answered, "There are
Sioux girls enough for the poor pale ia
ces that come among US. A kings daugh-
ter weds the son Of king. Eagles must
sleep in an eagles nest"
In vain Tahmiroo knelt and supplicat-
ed. In vain she promised that Flori-
mond de Rance would adopt all his enmit-
les and all his friendships; that in hunt
ing and in war, he would be an invalua-
bic treasure. The chief remained mex
orable. Then Tahmiroo no longer join
ed in the dance, and the old men MOTTO
ed that her rich voice was silent when
they passed her wigwam. The light of
her beauty began to fade and the bright
vermilion current, which mantled under
her brown cheek, became sluggish and
pale. The languid glance cast on the
morning sun and the bright earth, enter
ed into her fathers soul. He could not
see his beautiful child thus wasting away.
He had long averted his eyes, whenever
ne saw Florimonj de Rance; but one day
when he crossed his hunting path, he laid
his hand on his shoulder, aud pointed to
Tahmiroo's dwelling. Not word was
spoken. The proud old man, and the
blooming lover entered it together. Tai
miroo was seated in the darkest corner
Of the wigwam, her head leaning on her
hand, her basket work tangled beside her,
and bunch Of flowers that the village
maidens had brought her, scattered and
withering at her feet. The chief looked
upon her, with vehement expression of
love which none but stern countenances
can wear. Tahmiroo," he said, in a
subdued tone, go to the wigmam Of the
stranger, that your father may again see
you love to look on the rising sun, and
the opening flowers" There was min.
gled JOY and modesty in the upward
glance of the Startled Fawn' Of the ST.
Oux; and when Florimond de Rance saw
the light of her mild eye, suddenly and
timidly yelled by its deeply fringed lid,
he knew that he had lost none of his pow
| er.
The marriage song was soon heard in
the royal wigwam, and the young adven-
turer became the son of a king.
J Months and years passed on, and found
Tahmiroo the same devoted, submissive
being. Her husband no longer treated
her with the uniform gallaniry Of a
lover. He was not often harsh; but he
| adopted something of the c0ldness and
indifference of the nation he had joined.
Tahmmoo sometimes wept in secret, but
so much of fear had lately mingled with
her love, that she carefully concealed
her grief from him who had occasioned il
When she watched his countenance, with
that pleading, innocent look, which had
always characterized her beauty, she
sometimes would obtain glance such as
he had given her in former days, and then
her heart would leap like a frolicksome
lamb, and she would live cheeTfully on
the remembrance Of that smile, through
many wearisome days Of silence and neg
lect. Never was woman, in her heart
breaking dcvotcdness, satisfied with such
Sigh, testimonials of love, as was this
gentle Sioux girl. IfFlorimond chose TO
fish, she would herselfpIy the oars, rath-
er than he should suffer fatigue; and the
gaudy canoe her father had given her,
might often be seen gliding down the
stream, while Tahmiroo dipped her oars
in unison with the soft, rich voice, and
the indolent Frenchman lay sunk in lux
urious repose. She had learned his re-
lioion: but for herself she never prayed.