During the wooing, which continues for a longer or shorter time, as circumstances may dictate, the maid is chaperoned by her mother, or some elderly duenna, and the lovers are never allowed to remain alone together until after formal betrothal. At that time all parental restraint is abandoned and the affianced pair are allowed to roam at will, to come and go as they please. No conventionalities 1 of savage wooing had been observed by the ardent admirers of Heather Flower; but each in turn had sought to win the maiden's favour by a less circuitous route, and each had been eager to make the most of his opportunity. The ambition of each was known to the other, and jealousy, the dragon that curses its victim of any race or clime, seized upon these dusky sons of the forest, and a fierce hatred sprang up between the rivals.

Ah! what a complex thing is the human heart, when it is at the same time under the influence of both love and hate. At one moment the fierce fires of love and devotion consume the soul; and at the sight of a hated rival a very hell of mingled hatred, contempt and revenge burns deep in the heart.

A beautiful glen in the heather woods, a very boudoir of nature, was the playground of the Montauks the arena of all the sports and athletic games.

In the afternoon of a perfect day in spring, when the older squaws of the tribe were away from their wigwams, engaged in planting corn in the Indian field, the braves and warriors had repaired to the glen for an afternoon of competitive drill in the arts

It is a singular fact that before the advent of Europeans and the demoralising effect of their fire-water, the primitive Indian was chaste to a degree. Any lapse from the strictest code of morality was punishable with death or banishment. Among the tribes the "baton" was unknown.

of savage warfare and athletic sports, where they were followed by the younger members of the tribe.

It was at these gatherings that Heather Flower, with her retinue of attendant maidens, always occupied a place of vantage, and encouraged by her presence and approval the prowess and cleverness of her kinsmen. It was also at these tournaments that the rival warriors were brought together in fiercest competition, and as all were adepts with every weapon in use among the tribes, each vied with the other in all contests of strength and skill.

A word or look of approbation from Heather Flower to either of the rivals intensified the bitterness of the other.

On this balmy spring day the games had been contested with more than usual interest, and the braves were indulging in competitive archery.

Mandush, an expert archer, had half emptied his quiver, and he glanced towards Heather Flower for a smile of approval.

"Hist!"

The sharp call cut the air like a knife, and was followed by a babel of sounds.

Following the direction, up the wooded slope, pointed out by the index fingers, he beheld a strange spectacle. A large golden owl, belated in its migration, and seeking repose for a day in the dark wood of the high promontory, had been discovered by a flock of crows, which had set upon him, and with all the boisterous demonstration peculiar to them were attacking him on all sides, until the hapless intruder was compelled to seek safety in headlong flight, beset on every hand by his black tormentors.

Just as the pursued and pursuers were overhead, with the quickness of thought Mandush adjusted an

arrow to the bow-string and with unerring aim sent the shaft on its message of death.

Cleaving the air like a lightning bolt, it struck the golden beauty beneath its wing, piercing the heart. With a shrill cry of pain the luckless bird plunged headlong to the earth, dead.

The cloud of crows sought safety in flight, filling the air with their discordant caws.

A murmur of admiration and surprise went up from the concourse of braves and squaws at the masterstroke of Mandush's marksmanship, and with a proud step he approached the prostrate bird, and after assuring himself that life was extinct, he lifted it by the arrow that had transfixed it, and, bearing it in triumph to Heather Flower, presented her with the beautiful trophy, its golden plumage, tinted with blue and crimson, unruffled and unmarred.

Accepting the gift with maidenly grace, Heather Flower complimented him upon his superior ability in the arts so much admired in an Indian warrior.

With a glance of triumph that was not lost upon To-cus, who was a witness of all that had transpired, Mandush returned to his station to exhaust his quiver of arrows. This being done, he turned leisurely to retrace his steps in the direction of Heather Flower, darting from the depths of his fiery, serpent-like eyes a look of mingled triumph and contempt toward his hated rival.

The chagrin of To-cus at the apparent advantage Mandush had gained maddened him, but his innate cunning prevented him from any exhibition of rashness, and stifling the rage that strove for the mastery over prudence, he abruptly left the field, and strode with haughty and impatient step up the path leading to a rocky bluff northward. The pent-up rage seething in his heart nearly consumed him, and yet, what