24

THE INDIAN'S REVENGE.

these are not repeated, and the succeeding silence tends to heighten the unpleasant impression they produce on the mind. With the natives it is always the 'Curupia,' or Spirit of the Forest, which produces all sounds they are unable to explain.”

It was into the depths of such a forest that poor Laura and John wandered for three days, living on nuts and wild fruit. One night, overcome with fatigue, they sat down, and both of them wept bitterly. Seated by the side of a rock, and folded in each other's arms, they fell asleep. So quiet were they, that a bird alighted on Laura's shoulder, early in the morning, and commenced his song, thus awakening her and her brother. For a moment they could not recollect where they were; on looking round they saw the thick woods, and remembered their dreary situation.

While hesitating what course to pursue this day, they heard a crackling in the leaves, as if someone approached. Their first feeling was of joy, for the children believed it was their father coming to their relief; but what was their terror to perceive a huge black Bear approaching them, which, startled by their scream, made a pause at the unusual noise. The children fled through the forest, through the tangled branches of the trees; and the Bear, recovering his surprise, snuffed the air for a few moments, and followed after them through the thick bushes. The children heard his gruff panting, snuffing, and growling; but the branches tore their arms and legs, and they at last came to a stand. The Bear, rendered bold by hunger, opened his arms and settled himself, for a leap, and the death-hug. When, at the same moment a bough or two were moved on one side--the barrel of a gun protruded from a tree close by-and a shot was fired. The Bear fell, and after a few struggles, died. At the same time, an Indian came rapidly up to them, and to their dismay proved to be no other than Shaumut. Knowing what had happened between her father and him, Laura, even at her age, felt alarmed at what the red man might do. But we shall see that the Indian's revenge was of a different nature to that expected.

I must now tell you that the Parents of the children had returned at evening, and found their home vacant. In vain did they call, and search the nearest woods, and call from every little hill in the valley. The night was spent in fruitless search; but, though men from the settlement assisted the disconsolate parents, days passed, and still the children were not to be found. The Parents were sitting, after another sleepless night, at the door of their hut, when suddenly Shaumut

THE INDIAN'S REVENGE.

25

came out of the woods with Laura and John. He stood apart, and witnessed the meeting of the parents with their children. When the first kisses and tears were over, the Indian came up to Mr. Warrington, and said :

"White man, listen! You supposed I had done you wrong. You were mistaken. But still you set my wigwam on fire, and sent me and my family to seek a home beneath the cold shelter of the oak! You drove me from the land of my fathers, by bestowing on me the name of robber and thief. A red man does not complain. Behold a red man's revenge! I met your children in the wilderness. I could have carried them away, and made your heart desolate, as you have made mine, but I did not do it. I was leaving this place, to journey towards the sun; but I have returned to bring your children back. I have brought them far! I restore them to you-and now I say farewell!"

The red man turned away; and before Mr. Warrington could make any reply, the Indian was lost amid the thick branches of the trees.

Some time after, the two white men who had committed the theft, were discovered by one of the stolen articles, which they had not disposed of with the rest, at a distant settlement, and were given up to justice. Convicted for other offences, one of them confessed the theft. But, though Mr. Warrington made many efforts, he never learned anything of Shaumut again, for the good Indian had left those parts, never to return. "If ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Heavenly Father forgive your trespasses."

It would have been ali over with poor "Bunny" had it not been for the lively Party,-some incorrectly claim to be a distant,-very distant,-Relative of Mankind. He was engaged in performing some,no doubt healthy, but complicated Gymnastics,-when, just as the Serpent felt sure of poor "Bunny," our good-natured friend, the Monkey, burst out into loud screams, and chatter! The startled Rabbit made a spring, and disappeared in a moment, while the friendly Monkey,chattering some unintelligible remarks,-sprang upwards from bough to bough, and resumed, from the tops of lofty trees, his usual occupation of cracking judicious Nuts.

Let one of these immense " Boa Constrictors "only get a firm "anchorage" to a Tree, etc., by the end of its tail,-upon which the "Grip " depends, and it can break the ribs of any animal by its death squeeze.

The Serpent has caught a Tartar asleep in his Boat, but the fortunate return, and extremely energetic measures,-of his comrades, seem to prove that in this instance,-the Reptile has " Caught a Tartar," in more ways than one.

Knowing the effect of the tail-hold,-a sagacious Tartar has,-very judiciously,-cut it off.

It enables them to scale high walls. A gentleman told the Writer that,-looking out of his window in early morning he saw a huge Serpent in his Garden,-probably after his Fowls. A lofty wall surrounded the Garden from the Jungle and Forest. The creature was coiling itself up under the wall,-rose on its tail,-wriggled itself over the top, and bundled itself "head-over-heels," into the Jungle,-before he could get out with his " 10-bore Express '' Rifle !

A lonely Pull.

N the southern part of France is a large city called Marseilles : here there once lived a man named Guizon; he was always busy, and seemed very anxious to amass money, both by his industry and his frugality. He was poorly clad, and his food was of the simplest and cheapest kind; he lived alone, and denied himself all the luxuries and many of the comforts of life. He was honest and faithful, never attempting to defraud others, and always exact in performing his promises; yet the people of Marseilles thought he was a miser, and they held him in great contempt. As he passed along the streets, the rich looked on him with scorn, while the poor hissed and hooted at him. Even the boys would cry out, "There goes old Skinflint." But the old man bore all this insult with gentleness and patience. Day by day he went to his labour, and day by day as he passed through the streets he was saluted with sneers and taunts. Thus time passed on, and poor old Guizon was now more than eighty years of age. But he still continued the same persevering industry, still lived in the same saving, simple manner as before. Though he was now bent almost double, and his hair was thin and white as snow; though his knees tottered as he went along the street, still the rude jokes of the crowd would