to overcome her feelings; but the Great Spirit was angry
with her, and would not hear her." She paused a moment,
and then abruptly demanded, "Where is that pale girl now?"

Captain de Haldimar had often been rallied, not only by
his brother-officers, but even by his sister and Madeline
de Haldimar herself, on the conquest he had evidently
made of the heart of this Indian girl. The event to which
she had alluded had taken place several months previous
to the breaking out of hostilities. Oucanasta was
directing her frail bark, one evening, along the shores
of the Detroit, when one of those sudden gusts of wind,
so frequent in these countries, upset the canoe, and left
its pilot struggling amid the waves. Captain de Haldimar,
who happened to be on the bank at the moment with his
sister and cousin, was an eye-witness of her danger, and
instantly flew down the steep to her assistance. Being
an excellent swimmer, he was not long in gaining the
spot, where, exhausted with the exertion she had made,
and encumbered with her awkward machecoti, the poor girl
was already on the point of perishing. But for his timely
assistance, indeed, she must have sunk to the bottom;
and, since that period, the grateful being had been
remarked for the strong but unexpressed attachment she
felt for her deliverer. This, however, was the first
moment Captain de Haldimar became acquainted with the
extent of feelings, the avowal of which not a little
startled and surprised, and even annoyed him. The last
question, however, suggested a thought that kindled every
fibre of his being into expectancy,--Oucanasta might be