All its mystery and its magic, XXXIX.-CONFIDENCE REWARDED. MERRY'S MUSEUM. ONE of the first settlers in Western New York was Judge W., who established himself at Whitestown, about four miles from Utica. He brought his family with him, among whom was a widowed daughter with an only child, a fine boy about four years old. In this wild spot, Judge W. saw the necessity of keeping on good terms with the Indians; for, as he was nearly alone, he was completely at their mercy. Accordingly, he took every opportunity to secure their good will. Several of the chiefs came to see him, and all appeared well disposed. But there was one thing that troubled him: an aged chief of the Seneca tribe, and one of great influence, who resided at a distance of about six miles, had not been to see him; nor could he by any means ascertain the feelings and views of the sachem in respect to his settlement in that region. At last he sent him a message; and the answer was, that the chief would visit him on the morrow. True to his appointment, the sachem came. Judge W. received him with marks of respect, and introduced his wife, his daughter, and the little boy. The interview that followed was deeply interesting. Upon its result the judge considered that his security might depend, and he was therefore very anxious to make a favorable impression on the chief. He expressed to him his desire to settle in the country, to live on terms of friendship with the Indians, and to be useful to them by introducing among them the arts of civilization. The chief heard him out, and then said, "Brother, you ask much, and promise much. I must have a pledge of your sincerity. Let this boy go with me to my wigwam; I will bring him back in three days with my answer." If an arrow had pierced the bosom of the mother, she could not have felt deeper the pang that went to her heart as the Indian made this proposal. She sprang from her seat, and rushing to the boy, who stood by the side of the sachem, looking into his face with pleased wonder and admiration, she encircled him in her arms, and was about to flee from the room. A dark frown came over the sachem's brow, but he did not speak. The judge knew better than his daughter, and delivered up the boy. The ensuing three days were spent in an agony of feeling by the mother, and Judge W. walked to and fro, going every few minutes to the door, looking through the opening in the forest towards the sachem's abode. At last, as the rays of the setting sun were thrown upon the tops of the forest around, the eagle feathers of the chieftain were seen dancing above the bushes in the distance. He advanced rapidly, and the little boy was at his side. He was gayly attired as a young chief, his feet being dressed in moccasons; a fine beaver skin was over his shoulders, and eagle feathers were stuck in his hair. He was in excellent spirits; and so proud was he of his honors, that he seemed two inches taller than before. He was soon in his mother's arms, and in that brief minute she seemed to pass from death to life. It was a happy meeting too happy to be described. "The white man has conquered," said the sachem; "hereafter let us be friends. You have trusted the Indian; he will repay you with confidence and friendship." He was as good as his word; and Judge W. lived there many years, laying the foundation of a flourishing and prosperous community. [This interesting story is from A Journey through Kansas, by Rev. C. B. Boynton and T. B. Mason, published in Cincinnati, in 1855.] THE mounds of the western prairies are among the most interesting features of the country. They are so regular in form that they are generally supposed to have been the work of human hands; but by whom they were reared, or for what purpose, is unknown. A few years since, at the base of one of these mounds, there resided a chief, whose young daughter was a girl of uncommon beauty, as well as of a pure and noble spirit. She had many admirers among the young braves of her nation. Her nature was simple and beautiful; and loving one among them all, and only one, she hesitated not to let her preference be known, not only to the Young Eagle who had won her heart, but also to those whose suit she rejected. Among her unsuccessful suitors one only so laid it to heart as to desire revenge. He, the Prowling Wolf, was filled with rage, and took little pains to conceal his enmity, though he showed no desire for open violence. Both these young men were brave, and both skilful in the use of weapons; but while the Young Eagle was of a frank and generous spirit, and swayed by such high impulses as a young savage may feel, the Wolf was reserved, dark, and sullen; and his naturally lowering brow seemed, after the maiden had refused him, to settle into an habitual scowl. The friends of the Young Eagle feared for his safety. He, however, was too happy in the smiles of his chosen bride to trouble himself concerning the enmity of another, especially when he knew himself to be his equal both in strength and skill. The Indian customs did not permit the young couple to be much alone with each other; but they sometimes contrived to meet at twilight at the top of the mound, and spend there together a happy hour. Young Eagle was a favorite with his tribe, except among the kinsmen of the Wolf; and among the whites, too, he had made many friends, one of whom had given him a Colt's revolver, the only one owned in the tribe. Delighted with this formidable weapon, he had made it a plaything till he became skilful in its use, and always wore it about him in addition to his other arms. This was a second cause of enmity, which the Wolf laid up in his heart. He seemed to be planning some dark scheme; but his secret, if he had one, was confided to no one. Bitter words sometimes passed between the young warriors, but nothing more; yet it was felt that at any time a sudden rousing of passion might end in bloodshed. One summer evening, just as the moon was up, Young Eagle sought the top of the mound for the purpose of meeting his future bride; for their marriage was agreed upon, and the appointed day was near. One side of this mound is a naked rock, which, for thirty feet or more, is almost perpendicular. Just on the edge of this precipice is a foot path; and by it a large, flat rock forms a convenient seat for those who would survey the valley, while a few low bushes are scattered over a part of the crest of the mound. On this rock Young Eagle sat down to await the maiden's coming. In a few moments the bushes rustled near him; and rising, as he thought, to meet her, a tomahawk flashed by his head, and the next instant he was in the arms of a strong man, and forced to the brink of the precipice. The eyes of the two met in the moonlight, and each knew then that the struggle was for life. Pinioned as his arms were by the other's hold, the Young Eagle frustrated the first effort of his foe; and then a desperate wrestle followed. The grasp of the Wolf was broken; and each, seizing his adversary by the throat with the left hand, sought his weapon with the right—the one his knife, the other his revolver. In the struggle, the handle of the knife of the Wolf had been turned in his belt; and missing it at the first grasp, ere he could recover himself, the revolver was at his breast, and a 1 bullet through his heart. One flash of hatred from the closing eye, and the arm of the dying warrior relaxed; and as the body sank, the Eagle hurled it over the precipice, and in his wrath fired bullet after bullet into the lifeless frame as it rolled heavily down. The young girl, who was ascending the mound to meet her lover, heard these successive shots, and, knowing well from what source such rapid discharges alone could come, hastened on, and reached the summit just as the fight was over. She soon brought her family to the spot, and every circumstance of the transaction showed at once the dangerous position in which the Eagle was placed. There was no witness of the combat, and no means whatever of showing that he had slain the Wolf in self-defence. The number of ball holes in the body seemed to bear evidence against him, and he knew that the friends of the Wolf would take advantage of every circumstance in order to procure his death as a murderer. He felt that death was certain if he submitted himself for trial, and therefore determined to defend himself as best he might, and await the result, as his only chance for life. It is a law among the Indians that the shedding of blood may be rightfully avenged by the nearest kinsman of the slain, the murderer being allowed to defend himself as best he may. At the same time the friends of the deceased are at liberty to accept a ransom for the life that has been taken, and a compromise is often effected, and the affair settled. The Young Eagle at once formed his resolution, sustained by the advice of his friends. Completely armed, he took possession of the top of the mound, which was so shaped, that, while he was himself concealed, no one could approach him by day without being exposed to his fire. He had, besides, two devoted and skilful allies, who, together with his position, rendered him far more than a match for his single adversary, the avenger of blood, the brother of the Wolf. These allies were his bride, and a large, sagacious hound, |