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 our Nattie. Such a spirit is sure of a noble victory.

It has been a number of years since the cvents herein chronicled, had their occurrence. The old Indian chief, North Wind, after many wanderings, and the loss of his second wife, with all the children, save Black-bird, haz now become quite reconciled to dwelling among the white man's race, and divides his time between the civilized home of his son and the wigwam of his daughter. His son is Augustus Reid; his wife's name was Nattie Nesmith, and there is a little Nattie, who is the delight both of her white and red grandpapa.

So, after all, Nattie did marry the dreaded Torch Eye; but he is not in the least "dreadful" to her now. On the contrary, she looks upon him as a model husband, and only hopes that her little Nattie may, without her hard experience, prove as fortunate in the choice of a companion, when her time shall come. She calls this little