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THE MURDER.

A TALE OF FRONTIER LIFE.

BY WILLIAM WALLACE.

"AH! the eagle must soon become wearied with the little bird of the forest, and his wings will no longer overshadow it," said Yantee to her white lover in that metaphorical style, which, perhaps, the fervid imagination of the red man as well as the paucity of his language compels him to adopt ; " and," the beautiful girl continued, "the braves of the forest will then scorn it." "Never ! never !" exclaimed the person, to whom the above was addressed, with a startling vehemence. "Never! while the rivers run, the wilderness puts forth its leaves, or yonder sun glitters in his sky !" The girl, as if satisfied, leaned her head upon his bosom, and he, again and again, pressed his lips to her dusky, though most lovely brow. This conversation occurred many, many years ago in the great wilderness of the West. Simple as it was, unregarded by the world, if overheard, as it would have been, yet effects flowed from the passionate words of these forest-denizens which altered the destinies of hundreds, and gave a peculiar character to the history of a populous state. Charles Grayson and his Indian girl were wed. In a few days they left the tribe to which she belonged, and were soon comfortably settled in a hunter's lodge on the extreme verge of civilization.

Years flew by ; and the settlement had already assumed the badges of civilization. The gems of art and agriculture were glittering on the ruins of the wilderness, and prosperity emptied her horn of plenty over the land. As accounts of the change reached the East, hundreds flocked to the clime of promise, and among them one who to personal beauty, the most exquisite, added these graces of metropolitan refinement and education never surpassed, and but rarely equalled. Mary Alton was the belle of her city. Her father had, in the vicissitudes of the times, been suddenly reduced to comparative poverty, and like many others in a similar situation, turned his face westward. Bitter was the struggle in Mary's heart when she became acquainted with her parent's failure, but more bitter still when she saw the necessity of his seeking out a new habitation. It is hard for the young and sensitive to leave a home hallowed by a mother's memory, and the angel-like associations of childhood. But the young, too, are hopeful. The rainbow sparkled out upon the bosom of the cloud ; and Mary Alton, with a cheering and radiant smile, consented to depart. Oh ! smiles of

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the beautiful do ye not speak of a sunnier world ?—a world where the fountain of tears is forever sealed by the seraph of happiness, and grief lies buried beneath the fadeless bower of joy ! And the two, father and daughter, bid adieu to the crowded city for the solitude of a far-distant wilderness. If Mary's charms were all powerful in the East, they were not the less attractive in her new home. She was the toast, the worshipped beau ideal of the young hunters. Her name cheered their hearts, and fired their eyes amid the dangers and privations of the life which their lot often compelled them to lead ; for, even yet, the emigrants of that region were frequently dependant on the chase for subsistence. Among Mary's admirers one was particularly conspicuous. His name, Henry Segard, was an honored one. He had more than once saved the settlement from the dreadful tomahawk, and rescued many a captive from their border foes. The only rival, in prowess, to young Segard was Charles Grayson. Fate seemed to have pitted them against each other from boyhood. Yet, strange to say, they were friends, despite of intense ambition, and the intrigues of their respective followers. There was a rumor, indeed, that they had sworn friendship. But the oath, if such had ever been made, was soon to prove valueless. There was one master passion whose mighty arm would shiver the holy bond and overturn forever the sacred altar.

Henry Segard was the accepted one. Oh ! how his heart thrilled when, arm in arm, he and his beautiful betrothed wandered through the majestic old woods, beneath the silvery stars, and surrounded by all the sweet influences of nature, whose lofty brow yet wore the unsoiled diadem of the lonely wild. How much do we lay down before the shrine of civilization ! How much of the beautiful do we sacrifice ! The mighty river is turned aside, the rippling stream dried up, and the lofty mountain stripped of its emerald coronal, which rustled in kingly magnificence around the marble summit. So let it be ; such is our irresistible law. In these walks, unseen as they imagined themselves, there was an eye on them-an eye dark and keen and sleepless. A glorious evening-a twilight of North Americacloud on cloud, in crimson drapery and ruby gold clustering around the azure palace of the Hesperides ! And Mary, in the still, solemn wood, keeps her tryst. The beautiful girl had been waiting but a few moments,-yet those moments were hours, and her lips murmured, " Why comes he not ?" "He is here !" cried one, leaping from a clump of