Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1858-02-25

reader, return to the cost of Florida, and
see if we can solve the mystry of Isabel De.
Vere's disappearance. Before taking leave Of
our friends, we will wish them a pleasant
winter in the gay city, hoping we will meet
them all we'll and happy upon our return.
The sun was calmly sinking to rest be-
hind the western hills, as an Indian hunter
wended his way along the margin of pure,
clear stream. The jarring elements were
hushed to peace, and nought was heard on
the howery banks of that silver stream, save
the rustling of the leaves, famed by the
balmy zephr-the planter fitting from shrub
to shrub, chanting his merry lay, and num-
berless smaller songSters, whose notes,
though not so sweet, added variety to the
concert This Indian hunter was a fair
sample of the brave race to which he be-
longed. His statute was gigantic, and he
had the bold quick tread of one who had
wandered frequently and fearlessly among
the terrible hiding-places Of nature. He
had mind which education and motive
would have nerved with giant strength, but
growing up in savage freedom, it wasted it
self in dark, fierce ungovernable possions.-
Oswingo-this young Indian-was on his
way to the wigwam of the old Indian chief,
where resided Talula, a fair Indian maid, =,
daughter of the chief, and the pride of his
heart He had traded with the captain of
vessel that day for several articles, and was
carrying them as presents to Talula, when
his attention was suddenly arrested by seeing
a child apparently asleep reclining upon the
green sword. Pausing, he examined her
attentively; she was not one of his own
race, although her olive complexion and
raven hair, bespoke the resident of South
ern cline.
Her head was resting upon her arm, and
her raven curls fell around her like sable
veil, not hiding, but enhancing the perfect
beauty and symmetry of her childish face and
form, and the pearly tears upon her rosy
cheek, spoke palmer to the Indians heart
than words could tell, that she was unhappy,
and had wept until sleep had sealed her
bright eyes, and stopped for time the fal-
ling tear-drops.
The hunter drew near the fair sleeper to
examine her more closely, when she opened
her eyes and looked wildly and anxiously at
him. Then uttering scream she sprang to
her feet and started off like frightened
deer; but Oswingo caught her arm and gent
ly spoke few French words to her, some of
which he had learned from the captains of
vessels trading upon the coast. She looked
eagerly into his face, and enquired for her
mother and father, but poor Oswingo did not
understand what she said. He had said all
that he knew in French. Hecould not make
her understand his language, but taking her
hand, he pointed to the setting sun and then
in the direction of the village, and walked
on, leading the trembling child. When he
arrived at the wigwam, he led the little girl
up to Talula, who was alone in the wigwam,
and placed her little white, soft hand into
the hand of the Indian maid, and speaking
to her kindly, told the story of his finding
the little pale face asleep in the woods, and
now he wanted her to take care of her and
keep her. Poor Isabel (for of course, my
reader, you have guessed it was herr looked
bewildered, and the bright black eyes began
to I'll and the tears to course each other
down the pale check; but Talula smiled
kindly, and taking Isabel upon her lap,
stroked and smoothed her raven curs, and
brushing the tear drops from the beautiful
dimpled cheek, pressed her lips upon them
caressingly. Isabel looked at Talula, and
smiled through her tears. With her, we
will take look at the maid.
Her starry eyes were fringed with lashes as
dark and silky as the raven; her eyebrows
were arched like two bows of ebony-herlips
were painted blue, and her nails were tinged
with gold-colored henna; her slender form,
graceful as the neck of theswan clearing the
waters of her own blue lakes; and her tiny
foot, and agile step, elastic as the tread Of the
young panther upon the quicksands of her
native stream. Never having been thwarted
in any way in her life, she was gay and hap
py.
The next morning, when Isabel awoke,
she felt as every one does in coming out of
the kind oblivion of sleep, the full weight of
her calamity. She seemed translated to a
new world. Every object around her was
savage.-so different to her own peaceful
home was the rough uncomfortable wigwam;
and how great the contrast between her own
gentle mother and the dusky maid, Talula
But as the morning advanced, and she felt
the cheering influence of the sun, and heard
the notes of familiar birds-the voices Of
old friends-her spirit revived, and she was
calm and serene, if not happy. The ordi-
nary sorrows of childhood are easily assuaged,
but IsaGel's were not common sorrows. She
was not old enough. however, to comprehend
at first, the novelty of her peculiar situation.
She only knew that she had wandered zoo
far from the vessel, and was among strange
people, whose language she did not under
stand-that she was separated from all she
loved, for how long she did not know. But
she had no idea that her father or mother
would rest until she was found, for they must