But Guy Kingsland, perhaps for the first time, forgot the amenities and was almost guilty of rudeness. A passionate admirer of beauty, with an artistic appreciation of form and colouring, he stood gazing as he might have gazed on some beautiful creation of the artist's brush, or a vision from the Paradise of Mohammed, half in wonder, wholly in admiration.

What did she think of him, the lover of her young friend, Damaris Gordon? Did she know of the engagement that existed between the Lieutenant and Major Gordon's daughter?

He asked the mental question, hoping that his betrothed had kept the secret, as she probably had. In an instant he had encountered the black eyes of the young warrior, glowering upon him with an expression that warned him of his folly; and turning to his betrothed, he began a lively badinage, to which she replied in like strain, as the four walked slowly along the broad trail in the direction of the Sachem's lodge.

Two sentinels barred the entrance. A single sentence, attuned to express the emotion of the speaker, arrested the steps of Heather Flower.

"Poggatticut, the great king of the Manhansetts, has gone to the spirit land-Wyandance, the great Sachem of the Montauks, mourns."

With a wave of her hand Heather Flower dismissed her guests, and without a word, turned away, disappearing within a small wigwam.

"Now, by my faith, a decidedly cavalier way of dismissing one's guests!" exclaimed Kingsland, in a nettled tone, "One would imagine that the Czar

'According to a custom among the tribes, upon the death of a relative the Sachem of the tribe secludes himself within his wigwam, from which every member of the royal family is excluded until he signifies his wish for their return.

of all the Russians had shuffled off the mortal coil. This chieftain with the unpronounceable name must be held in high veneration."

He addressed Damaris, but it was Poniute who replied.

"Poggatticut great warrior-big hunter-Manitou give him wise head-still tongue.'

"If you intend that as a rebuke for my natural curiosity, I'll refrain from further questioning,' returned Kingsland. "There's nothing for it, I opine, but a pull back to the Isle of Wight. Can you take us across?" he added, turning to Poniute.

"Poniute's arms are strong. When moon walks there, pale-face chief shall be there," returned the Indian, pointing to the eastern sky, and then to the distant island.

"Lead on-we will follow," answered Kingsland, and drawing the hand of his betrothed within his arm he led her down the steep pathway to the spot where the canoe was beached.

The moon was skirting the eastern horizon when the lovers reached Gardiner Hall, but it was sinking low in the west when Lieutenant Kingsland fell asleep to dream-not of his amber-tressed, lily-fair Damaris, but of the bewitching, glowing beauty of Ash-kick-o-tau-tup, the Heather Flower of the Montauks.

CHAPTER IV

AN INDIAN SHRINE

"With reverent steps we come
To gather round his tomb,
The honoured brave!
And still from year to year,
Shall pilgrims journey here,
And many a holy tear

Shall here be shed."

OR three days had the body of Poggatticut lain in state, for three days had the young chief Yo-kee remained secluded within the lodge, attended only by the great medicine-man, Wee-gon. For three days neither the young chieftain nor the medicine-man, whose mission it was to comfort, had spoken, save in low murmurs, and at long intervals. Not a morsel of food had passed their lips, not a drop of water had moistened their parched tongues.

On either side of the closed entrance a warrior stood guard, upright, silent, motionless as Hindoo devotees, not a contortion of their bronzed faces, not the quiver of a muscle, betraying the fatigue or gnawing hunger they were enduring so stocially. Throughout the entire domains of Sea-wan-ha-ka and Manhansett-aha-quash-a-warnuck a solemn silence brooded, indicative of the great calamity that had befallen the nation.

In the three villages of Wyandance, King of the Montauks, Nowedanah, Grand Sachem of the Shinnecocks, and Momometou, Sagamore of the Mat

titucks, the ordinary occupations were suspended, and not once had warriors, braves or squaws beheld faces or forms of their kings, who, like David of old, mourned in solitude, not only for a brother dead, but for a great statesman, a wise counsellor, a profound philosopher, a nobleman of nature's fashioning, whose voice would never again be heard in the councils of his people.

Through the dense forest shades the deer, the moose, the bear and elk might roam in safety, the partridge might lead her young. No twang of bow disturbed the stillness of the leafy coverts, no hunter's knife flashed in the green gloom, no spear of fisherman cleft the limpid waters of the bright

streams.

Within their lodges the royal family abode, beneath the shelter of wigwams the squaws huddled, the warriors and braves spoke in the low, plaintive tones so suggestive, in the Delaware language, of profound grief, taking the place of tears in the eyes of the pale races, and their sentences were of the briefest.

The morning of the fourth day dawned in cloudless splendour. From his ocean bed on the eastern horizon the golden luminary rose majestically, turning the waters of the bay to a vast sheet of burnished silver, sparkling and shimmering with myraid crystal points, tinting the topmost tassels of the forest trees with vivid emerald, and piercing the green aisles with stealthy arrows tipped with crimson and gold.

From the villages runners had come in, bearing dispatches from the three kings and the tributary chieftains of the minor tribes. Already the grave had been hollowed beneath the green oak crowning the highlands of Montauk, the burial place of kings who had slumbered beneath the sod for thousands

of moons. Swift runners had been sent in all directions, and by this means the arrangements for the funeral march had been completed in every detail.

The runners from Wyandance had conveyed the intelligence that he would meet the funeral cortège at the high bluff within the domain of Montauk overlooking the three or four miles of sandy beach stretching away to the westward between the place of look-out and Amagansett. And lastly, the tireless messenger was sent by Yo-kee to signify his acquiescence in the arrangement.

There was no outward sign of grief when Yo-kee joined his people; the period for mourning in state had passed, and a long line of warriors, braves and squaws passed in review beside the bier and looked for the last time upon the face of the dead, as he lay robed in all the panoply of a great warrior about to go forth upon a long journey.

Only the four principal men of the tribe were privileged to become the bearers; and reverently they raised the litter around which costly furs were bound, enveloping the dead.

With measured step they took their way on the march to the burial-place, Yo-kee following the bier with his retinue of warriors, all habited in gala attire, as befitted the occasion, and midway of the line the litter upon which the aged widow Lig-omee reclined, borne upon the shoulders of four athletic braves.

A long line of warriors and braves followed; the procession swelled to a great concourse at Dancing Meadow, where the deputation of Mattitucks, under their Sachem, Momometou, joined the train.

There was a formal exchange of greetings, then, observing a decorous silence, the entire party entered the capacious canoes, and obedient to the