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 mode of life than that of the white people that she once knew, and become a true child of the forest, fit for a warrior's bride."

Nattie, in her half bewildered state, but imperfectly comprehended the meaning of the old Indian's words, as he sat on the ground, near the fire, to which he had returned, muffled in his huge blanket, and puffing smoke from along, black pipe. The old squaw was asleep near him, her head drooping on her breast, and her straight, black hair hanging down over her swarthy face. The youngest papoose was lying across her lap. The two little boys sat beside her, on the dirt floor, laughing and chatting merrily together. Black-bird, the tall girl, had disappeared at the reprimand from her father.

Nattie looked toward the group at the fire.

"They are happy, while I am wretched," she said to herself. Then thought bore her away to her own home. How far away from her present abode that home now lay, she knew not. She