of some soft-hearted girl, and only indicates what she would have done
in like circumstances.

On the day selected, the tribe was collected at the outpouring of the
waters, to witness the achievement of Magisaunikwa, and lament his
death. In great numbers they lined the banks of the stream, seeking
those positions from which the best views could be obtained, while his
friends watched at the foot of the cataract in canoes to rescue the
body should it be thrown up by the raging water. Leelinau, too, was
there, unyielding, yet proud of a devotion unheard of in the annals
of her nation. She looked haughtily as on a spectacle devised in her
honor, of which she should be celebrated as the heroine, long after
her feet should have travelled the path that leads to the Spirit-land.
No regret for the destruction to which her lover was doomed appeared
to touch her heart, nor did pity moisten her eyes as she looked upon
the preparations for the sacrifice.

At length Magisaunikwa appeared, and never before had he attracted
such admiration. He moved like one returning from victory. No war
paint, such as warriors are accustomed to use when upon the war-path
in order to strike terror into the foe, or when commencing an
enterprise of great peril, stained his person. His dress was the
conaus of panther scalps, and he walked amid a company of young men of
his own age, above the tallest of whom he rose by a head.

Before commencing the adventure, he performed the customary ceremony
to propitiate the Great Spirit, pointing to the heavens, the earth,
and the four winds, and invoking with a loud voice the Master of Life
to smile upon the undertaking. This being done, he cast his eyes over
the assembled crowd, till they fell upon Leelinau. Long he gazed,