finely, so as to combine manliness with so much of beauty as may well comport with it. He was probably six feet in height, straight as an arrow, and remarkably well and closely set. He wore a dress common among the gentlemen of that period and place-a sort of compound garb, in which the fashion of the English cavalier of the second Charles had been made to coalesce in some leading particulars with that which, in the American forests, seemed to be imperatively called for by the novel circumstances and mode of life prevailing in that region. The over-coat was of a dark blue stuff, usually worn open at the bosom, and displaying the rich folds of the vest below, of a colour suited to the taste of the wearer, but which on the present occasion was of the purest white. The underclothes were of a light gray, fitting closely a person which they happily accommodated and served admirably to display. His buskins were like those worn by the Indians, but coming higher up the leg; and with a roll just above the ankle, rather wider, but not unlike that common to the modern boot. A broad buckskin belt encircled his waist, and secured the doublet which came midway down his thigh. In his hand he carried a light musketoon, or smoothbore, of peculiarly graceful make for that period, and richly ornamented with drops of silver let in tastefully along the stock, so as to shape vaguely a variety of forms and figures. The long knife stuck in his belt was the only other weapon which he appeared to carry; and forming, as it does, one of the most essential implements of woodcraft, we may scarcely consider it under that designation. A white Spanish hat, looped broadly up at one of the sides, and secured with a small button of gold, rested slightly upon his head, from which, as was the fashion of the time, the brown hair in long clustering ringlets depended about the neck.

The sailor, as we have said, turned immediately upon the person who, so opportunely for Sanutee, had torn him from the body of the Indian; but he encountered the presented rifle, and the clicking of the cock assured

him of the readiness of him who held it to settle all further strife. Apart from this, he saw that the new comer was no child-that he was of not less powerful make than the Indian, and with fewer years to subtract from it. The single effort, too, by which he had been drawn away from his victim, indicated the possession of a degree of strength which made the sailor pause and move cautiously in his advance upon the intruder. 'Well, master," said the seaman, "what is this matter to you, that you must meddle in other men's quarrels? Have you so many lives to spare that you must turn my knife from the throat of a wild savage to your own?"

"Put up your knife, good Pepperbox-put it up while you have permission," said the person so addressed, very complaisantly, "and thank your stars that I came in time to keep you from doing what none of us might soon undo. Know you not the chiefwould you strike the great chief of the Yemasseesour old friend Sanutee-the best friend of the English?"

---

"And who the devil cares whether he be a friend to the English or not? I don't; and would just as lief cut his throat as yours, if I thought proper."

66

Indeed-why you are a perfect Trojan-pray who are you, and where did you come from?" was the cavalier's response to the brutal speech of the sailor, whom every word of the last speaker seemed to arouse into new fury, which he yet found it politic to restrain; for a sense of moral inferiority, in breeding or in station, seemed to have the effect of keeping down and quelling in some sort the exhibitions of a temper which otherwise would have prompted him again to blows. The pause which he made before responding to the last direct inquiry, seemed given to reflection. His manner became suddenly more moderate, and his glance rested frequently and with an inquiring expression upon the countenance of the Indian. At length, giving a direct reply to the interrogatory which seemed a yielding of the strife, he replied,

"And suppose, fair master, I don't choose to say who I am, and from whence I came.-What then?" 66 Why then let it alone, my Hercules. I care little whether you have a name or not. You certainly cannot have an honest one. For me you shall be Hercules or Nebuchadnezzar--you shall be Turk, or Ishmaelite, or the devil-it matters not whence a man comes when it is easily seen where he will go."

The countenance of the sailor grew black with rage at the language of the speaker, not less than at his cool, laughing, contemptuous manner. But the process of thinking himself into composure and caution, going on in his mind for necessary purposes, seemed to teach him consideration; and leisurely proceeding to reload his fusil, he offered no interruption to the Englishman, who now addressed himself to the Indian. "You have suffered a loss, Sanutee, and I'm sorry for it, chief. But you shall have another--a dog of mine,---a fine pup which I have in Charlestown. When will you go down to see your English brother at Charlestown?"

"Who is the brother of Sanutee?"

"The governor--you have never seen him, and he would like to see you. If you go not to see him, he will think you love him not, and that you lie on the same blanket with his enemies."

"Sanutee is the chief of the Yemassees-he will stay at Pocota-ligo with his people."

"Well, be it so. I shall bring you the dog to Pocotaligo."

"Sanutee asks no dog from the warrior of the English. The dog of the English hunts after the darkskin of my people."

66

No, no-chief. I don't mean to give you Dugdale. Dugdale never parts with his master, if I can help it; but you say wrong. The dog of the English has never hunted the Yemassee warrior. He has only hunted the Savannahs and the Westoes, who were the enemies of the English."

"The eyes of Sanutee are good-he has seen the dog of the English tear the throat of his brother."

"Well, you will see the dog I shall bring you to Pocota-ligo."

"Sanutee would not see the young brave of the English at Pocota-ligo. Pocota-ligo is for the Yemassees. Let the Coosaw-killer come not." Are we

"Hah! What does all this mean, Sanutee? not friends? Are not the Yemassee and the English two brothers, that take the same track, and have the same friends and enemies? Is it not so, Sanutee?" "Speaks the young chief with a straight tongue-he says."

"I speak truth; and will come to see you in Pocotaligo."

"No-the young brave will come not to Pocota-ligo. It is the season of the corn, and the Yemassee will gather to the festival."

"The green corn festival! I must be there, Sanutee, and you must not deny me. You were not wont to be so inhospitable, chief; nor will I suffer it now. I would see the lodge of the great chief. I would partake of the venison—some of this fine buck, which the hands of Matiwan will dress for the warrior's board at evening."

"You touch none of that buck, either of you; so be not so free, young master. It's my game, and had the red-skin been civil, he should have had his share in it; but, as it is, neither you nor he lay hands on it; not a stiver of it goes into your hatch, d-n me.”

The sailor had listened with a sort of sullen indifference to the dialogue which had been going on between Sanutee and the new comer; but his looks indicated impatience not less than sullenness; and he took the opportunity afforded him by the last words of the latter, to gratify, by the rude speech just given, the malignity of his excited temper.

"Why, how now, churl?" was the response of the Englishman, turning suddenly upon the seaman, with a haughty indignation as he spoke-" how now, churl? is this a part of the world where civility is so plenty that you must fight to avoid a surfeit. Hear you,

sirrah; these woods have bad birds for the unruly, and you may find them hard to get through if you put not more good-humour under your tongue. Take your

meat, for a surly savage as you are, and be off as quick as you can; and may the first mouthful choke you. Take my counsel, Bully-boy, and clear your joints, or you may chance to get more of your merits than your venison."

"Who the devil are you, to order me off? I'll go at my pleasure; and as for the Indian, and as for you-" "What, Hercules ?"

"I'll mark you both, or there's no sea-room."

"Well, as you please," coolly replied the Englishman to the threat," as you please; and now that you have made your speech, will you be good-natured for a moment, and let your absence stand for your civility?" "No-I'll be d-d if I do, for any man.”

"You'll be something more than d―d, old boy, if you stay. We are two, you see; and here's my Hector, who's a little old to be sure, but is more than your match now"-and as the Englishman spoke, he pointed to the figure of a sturdy black, approaching the group from the copse.

You

"And I care not if you were two dozen. don't capsize me with your numbers, and I shan't go till it suits my pleasure, for either red-skin, or white skin, or black skin; no, not while my name is—”

"What?" was the inquiry of the Englishman, as the speaker paused at the unuttered name; but the person addressed smiled contemptuously at the curiosity which the other had exhibited, and turned slightly away. As he did so, the Englishman again addressed Sanutee, and proposed returning with him to Pocota-ligo. His anxiety on this point was clearly enough manifest to the Indian, who replied sternly,

"The chief will go alone. He wants not that the Coosaw-killer should darken the lodge of Matiwan. Let Harrison"--and as he addressed the Englishman by his name, he placed his hand kindly upon his shoulder, and his tones were more conciliatory—“let Har