number of voices in the camp arrested their attention, and turning in that direction, they beheld a lurid mass of smoke and flame rising to the heavens. The sight was strikingly grand. The fire caught rapidly from tree to tree, and the huge pines upon the summits of the hills, 'lighted for destruction,' appeared like pillars of flame in the distance. They stood for a few moments gazing in silence and admiration, when as if waking from a reverie,

'Come, Emily, we must hasten,' cried Ormond, 'this is ominous indeed!'

As they were turning towards the camp the wild form of Ooalito rushed from a neighboring thicket, the blood streaming from one of his arms, and his eye in a blaze. Emily clung trembling to her lover as the savage informed him of a fierce rencounter his party had had with the enemy towards the west, in which every man had been slain except himself. He thought from their number that they designed attacking the camp immediately, and hid behind a tree, he had heard of their plan to kindle a fire on the east, so as to deceive the whites in relation to the side on which the attack would be made.

Ormond hurried on with his precious charge towards her father's tent. After they had proceeded some steps, she, led by fear and suspicion, turned to watch Ooalito, and beheld him standing in the same spot in which they had left him, eyeing their retreating footsteps with a look of malice and triumph. There appeared to her in the glance of those dark, burning eyes, a depth of meaning she could not fathom, with all her woman's discernment. Passion, hatred, love, she knew not what it was, which sent a cold shudder through her limbs, and forced her to turn her head away. When she looked again, he was buried in the thickets.

The whole camp was in motion. Every man was preparing himself for a bloody contest. The long time which had elapsed since any engagement with the savages, seemed to justify the opinion, that on the approaching conflict, were staked their chief hopes and the heart of many a weather-beaten forester was ready to fail him. That night was to be a night of blood. Every thing seemed to predict it.

On account of the illness of the colonel, the command of the company devolved on Ormond. With a firm heart and quick step, he hastened from man to man, pouring out words of encouragement, and assigning to each his respective duty. Trained to savage warfare, each understood in a moment the part he was to act, and soon not a form could be seen moving in the camp. They were hid in the foliage, nearly all upon the west side, from which, according to their trusty spy Ooalito, the attack was to be expected.

Ormond hastened again to the tent of his superior officer.

There, upon a rudely constructed couch, lay the trembling Emily. Her imagination was busy in conjuring up a thousand fancies, apparently with no foundation. The freezing look of Ooalito had wrought fearfully upon her sensitive mind: looks are at times the most powerful eloquence. She reviewed all she had seen or known of his conduct before, and over every strange action her imagination cast a dark coloring. Rescued from death by her father's hand in a campaign some years before, he had been brought to the colony then but a youth. There he had received an education, and displayed many laudable traits of character, though he had never wholly lost his native wildness. Several times he had started for the forests, and once or twice, within her recollection, he had staid so long, that on his return he had been suspected of being leagued with the tribes of savages, who were known to be, if not openly, at least secretly, inimical in the northern part of the state. These suspicions, however, on account of his known love for her father and his family, had never been injurious to him. She remembered only once of having seen a similar expression with the one she had remarked that evening pass over his countenance, which had usually been unchanging, apparently unchangeable. He had ever been passionately fond of the hunt, and with Ormond had scoured all the forests in the neighborhood. On one of their expeditions, the young men had remained two days, and the third was far advanced before they returned. Ormond's friends were becoming exceedingly anxious, out of fear that he had fallen into the hands of the Indians, whose cruelty even then spared no victim; but most of all was she distressed who had bestowed upon him the warm affections of her youthful heart. Upon his return, she cast herself in his arms, thinking of nothing but him and love. She recollected seeing an expression of bitterness pass over the features of Ooalito, and not understanding its meaning, she pettishly refused a nosegay of wild flowers which he offered her. He retreated a few steps, dashed it on the ground and stamped every blossom in the dust, while his countenance was for a moment eloquent with that strange, undefinable expression of passion, which once seen, could never be forgotten. From that period, he had not been the same man as before; the reason no one knew, except himself; and to the surprise of her father, he begged permission to accompany him in his present expedition, although it was against his own people. Clothed in his wild costume, and again in the woods, it appeared to her as if the whole man had been transformed. His frame had grown robust, almost gigantic, and he appeared to have lost all the refinement of civilized life.

Such were her reflections, when her lover suddenly stood before her.

Those, reader, are holy emotions, which arise in the communion of two such hearts, under such circumstances. Love never burns brighter than when its object is in danger. Then it grows into a passion, which for the time constitutes mind and soul. How overwhelming must have been the emotions of the young warm-hearted soldier, as he clasped the greatest treasure the world possessed for him, to his breast, and felt that on him depended her happiness, perhaps her life. Those were moments of pain, for fancy would paint the possibility of her becoming the victim of ruthless barbarity-she who had never before known a care or a hardship—yet they were also moments of deep, of exquisite enjoyment.

'Emily,' he cried, after the first gush of feeling was over, 'our meeting must be short, but fear not, dearest girl. A guard shall be stationed around your tent, and I feel that providence will give us victory. What an adventure this will be to tell the girls at home!'-a single shout from the camp broke on his ears, and he tore himself from the arms of the agitated girl-'dearest, dearest Emily, may heaven protect, as it will protect you, I know. You will be my attendant angel in the approaching conflict.' She listened in agony to his parting footsteps, until they were lost in the distance; a fearful foreboding came over her mind, and soon she had sunk into a state of utter unconsciousness.

Ormond was issuing his orders to some of the few men stationed on the east side of the camp, to go and guard their commander's tent, when a light rustling drew his attention to the neighboring woods. They were buried in the deepest gloom, though a slight streak of light along the eastern hills, betokened the rise of the moon. Not a voice, not a sound was heard, except the song of the whippoorwill from the pinnacle of some lofty pine, and now and then the wolf's long howl from distant thickets. It was a fearful silence! Who knew but in those frowning solitudes some wily foe was lurking, ready to fall upon them unawares and undefended! There was something foreboding in the low, dull voice of the forest, as it waved with the breeze. A second time, a light rustling was heard, and a second time all was again as still as death, when suddenly shrill whistles broke out through all the forests, followed by a loud and fiendish yell. Ormond's blood rushed cold to his heart. His courage for a moment forsook him. 'Great God of heaven! I have been deceived! O God, what shall I do? Emily, what will become of thee! Lost, lost, by the carelessness of him who'- He was gone with the rapidity of lightning from the spot. Several rifle shots, and a cloud of arrows followed him from the nearest thickets, but his

voice was heard above the uproar rallying and encouraging his astounded troops.

The contest was raging fiercely around him; a contest in which more depended upon cunning than bravery. Not a form could be seen moving above the dense bushes, except at times, when in some fierce rencounter the violence of their struggle exposed the combatants to view. Whoops, ever and anon, arose from savages lurking in the obscurity of the foliage, ready to dart forth upon some unwary victim. A tent broke out in flames behind him, and a triumphant cry was raised by the enemy. How could they have pierced into the camp to set a tent on fire? The savages must be lurking on every side! and for the first time, the recollection came with crushing weight upon his mind, that no guards had gone to the colonel's tent, having been called off by the sudden attack. He sprung on his feet. He shouted to his men, who joined him from every quarter, and they rushed towards the interior of the camp.

Before the burning tent, a white man and Indian were desperately struggling. Life was staked on victory, and the combatants exerted their utmost powers. Now one and now the other was uppermost, until, concentrating all his strength into a single effort, the white man hurled his foe to the earth, when suddenly a third figure rushed up and struck the victor lifeless. Ormond could deceive himself no longer. It was Ooalito, who had played the traitor during the whole day. He raised his pistol, and fired; but the savage remained uninjured, and with a fiendish laugh darted into the neighboring thickets.

One more antagonist, after a long struggle, had been conquered, and Ormond leaped upon his feet alone. It was evident from the reports of the guns, and the whoops of the savages, that they were making for the forest, and all the whites seemed to have followed in rash pursuit. The danger of this step no sooner struck him, than a faint scream from a direction not to be mistaken, realized his worst fears, and a lurid stream of fire darted up to the heavens. A horrid thought flashed on his mind! He hurried as swiftly as his strength would permit him, towards the light. tomahawk, hurled by a wounded Indian, grazed his ear, and stuck into the trunk of an opposite tree. He paused to fire at the savage, and to reload his rifle. That pause cost him his hopes, his love, his life.

Again was he on his course, and had come within a hundred yards of the Colonel's tent, when a spectacle was presented to him, which caused his heart to sicken within his bosom. The tent was in flames, and the traitor Ooalito was bearing Emily off

in his arms, while her wretched father was clinging to him, dragged along upon the earth. His voice could be distinctly heard, as he implored the savage, 'Spare, O spare my child! Take my life, take any thing, every thing; but O! spare my darling Emily!'

A wild figure crept from behind a neighboring copse, a hatchet one moment gleamed in the moonshine, and the next was buried in the veteran's neck. With a rapidity that defied escape, the maddened Ormond was upon the murderer, as he stooped to tear the scalp from his victim's head, and one blow with the butt end of his rifle laid the savage writhing on the earth.

But the harder task was yet before him. Already the dark form of Ooalito, with his insensible burden, was upon the border of the wood, fleeing with the speed of light. Not a moment was to be lost. Love, self-reproach, madness, spurred him on, and gifted him with unwonted power. On, on he went, dashing over brake and through thicket, now catching the figure of the savage by the light of the moon, now shaping his course by the sound of the crashing underbrush. On, on he hurried, and appeared to be gaining on the traitor, when suddenly he lost sight of him altogether, and found himself buried in the midst of a dense and almost impenetrable copse. Through it, however, he at length struggled, torn and wearied, and the falls of Tooloola were before him, in all their midnight grandeur. Their grandeur struck him not; he heard not their roar. Where was Ooalito? Where was Emily? He saw them not; he knew not whither to turn, and his strength was fast failing him! Despair stared him in the face, and for the first time all the horrors of his situation crowded upon his mind. The burden of the present seemed to shut out the future, and he stood in harassing, maddening thought.

A fiendish yell broke on his ear. The forests re-echoed it far and wide, and sent it back thrilling to his inmost heart. He raised his eyes. What a sight was before him! There, upon the top of a steep cliff, overhanging a billowy abyss, stood Ooalito, with the slight form of Emily stretched forth as if to dash it into the wave below. In the moonlight, his frame was lengthened into that of a giant, and from the distance at which he stood, Ormond could almost trace the fierce workings of triumphant passion on the visage of the fiend. He looked-he thought for a moment: it was a moment of deep, intense agony. Then, with the strength of a maniac, raising his rifle to his shoulder-a rifle which had rarely failed him-he fired, and beheld that cherished form, which for years had nestled at his heart-that form, associated with all the fond recollections of the past, the glowing hopes of the future; which had inspired his boyhood's dreams, and been the dearest companion of his riper years; his ideal of perfection,