University of Virginia Library

17. CHAPTER XVII.

The story of their love and mutual attachment
spread through the village, and
was heard with satisfaction and delight
by all of that good-hearted, affectionate
tribe, though many a young warrior had
looked with eyes of love upon the beautiful
Flower, that had been born and
brought up in their very midst, and
whose sweet disposition, like the balmy,
delicious fragrance of a rare-scented blossom,
had breathed its softening and loved
influence, in gentle words and kind acts,
over their truly brave and faithful hearts;
and they had long sought to win her by
daring deeds, the practice of their most
esteemed and honorable virtues, and by
the yet softer and winning arts of love, to
become the mistress of their wigwam.
Yet so generous and unselfish were their
natures,—so devoted were they to her
happiness, that they forgot all their rivalry,
and jealousy of love, in the lot
which was opened to her for future happiness,
in a marriage with the brave, and
honored pale face chief. And they all
in their hearts acknowledged, and felt his
superior claims to insure her happiness,
in the similarity of tastes and character,
which attracted and bound them to each
other. Thus happily was the course of
our devoted and tried lovers rendered
smooth, and all their troubles and the
great obstacles that had opposed them,
swept forever away. Now although occasional
sadness would sometimes cloud
the fair, clear brow of the beautiful daughter
of the forest, as she thought of the
days of her captivity, and the cruel
scenes connected with them; and as in
her daily walks around the peaceful village,
her eyes would rest in pity, and
her words of consolation, and promise,
and hope, in soft, kind tones, would fall
upon the ears of the widowed squaws,
whose brave husbands had sealed with
their life-blood their devotion to her,
yet could the presence, the voice, the
very thought of her adored, her idolized
Charles, in all the pride of blooming
manhood, with his thoughtful and intelligent
face, so beautiful, dispel all gloom
and sorrow from her heart, and all grief
from her anxious, troubled brow; and
thoughts, sweet thoughts would fly to
take possession of her soul, and the
bright, sweet smile of happiness would
light up the fires of her deep, dark eyes,
imparting such beauty, and angelic loveliness
to her charming person, that all

were fascinated as they looked, and unconsciously
paid homage at the shrine
of such surpassing loveliness; while the
enraptured lover would sit and drink in
with fond admiration each grace and
sweet perfection of this dear being,
whose love was enshrined in the chosen
chambers of his faithful, loving heart.

A month glided swiftly away after the
sad tragedy, which closed the list of
Coquese's woes. To them, how short
did it seem. Their days sped away on
wings of love, satisfied, ardent, prosperous
love. Charles had become the guest
of M. Boileau, and was the acknowledged
and beloved suitor of their precious
child. The fair hands of his love
smoothed and spread the clothes of his
soft couch, and prepared for him the
dainties of the humble board. It was
the sweet notes of her rich, bird-like
voice that awoke him each morning's
dawn, to the blessed pleasures of another
day of life and love. It was from
her rosy lips that he quaffed the delicious
nectar that inspired his happy and
delightful dreams. And is it possible,
you will be ready to ask, that they could
have desired more than this to complete
their happiness? Was not their cup
full to running over? Day by day to
live in each other's presence, to wander
beneath swelling skies, and under the
sweet shade of the green trees, over the
verdant woods, or glide leisurely along
the smooth waters of their limpid
streams, in the fairy canoe of the
delighted Coquese; or at noon-tide's
heat, to seek the inviting shelter of that
little bower where they first met, where
they first loved, and which was endeared
to them as the confidant of their daily,
and oft-repeated vows of love, and eternal
constancy; the green spot that
would ever live in their memories,
clothed in the brightest garb of their
happy and romantic love. There, too,
had they not around them the best, the
most affectionate of friends, whose constancy
and devotion had stood the most
trying test, and had not fainted nor failed
them in the hour of adversity and gloom.

But all this, and you will acknowledge
that it was not little or meagre, could not
satisfy our hero. He longed and de
sired to call her wife, to have the
solemnized and acknowledged right to
call her his own dear bosom companion,
his wanting better half. He was impatient
to utter and listen to those vows
which should bind them forever to each
other in indissoluble bonds, that nought
but death could sever. He had not a
rising feeling, not the most feeble touch
of jealousy in his heart. He knew that
she was all his own, that no rites, no
outward forms and ceremonies could
make her more so. Her heart was given
joyfully and fully to him. Her tone gave
proof of its sincerity, its complete and
absorbing power over her heart in all her
acts, in all her words. It lent a fonder
cadence, and a sweeter music to her
loved voice. It gave a warmer glow to
her fair cheek, and a brighter fire to her
sparkling eyes. It hung a more irresistible
charm around the witching smiles
that played over her beautiful face. No,
it was not that he hoped, that he
believed, or desired that her love should
increase, but he felt that this last crowning
act, that should give her wholly to
him, in the eyes of all, would quiet all
his apprehensions of her safety, would
render it impossible for him ever to be
separated again from her.

With such feelings he had of late oft
urged the blushing girl to fix the day
when all their hearts' desires should be
given them, and crown the bliss of their
united fates and fortunes. She would at
such times remind him of the events that
had but just transpired, and speak of the
grief of the widowed squaws in the village,
whose sorrows were yet fresh and
heavy upon them, and which would
gush forth with new violence at this
exhibition of happiness, which would so
strongly and directly bring to their minds
the losses they had suffered, and which
could never be repaired, or made up to
them, and urged him for their sake to
wait a little longer. She did not affect
any of that false modesty, that mock hesitancy
and reluctance, which city maidens
think proper and becoming to both
avow and practice, and which is but a
downright insult to their lover, implying
doubt of him. No, she felt all that longing,
that burning desire, to become his

lawful wife, that our hero expressed and
felt, to make her so, and her artless
words assured him this. But her sympathizing
heart was utterly destitute of
selfishness, and was considerate of the
feelings of others. But finally she
yielded to the passionate and warmly
urged prayer of her lover, and with the
approbation and expressed sanction of
her fond parents, Thursday of the next
coming week was chosen as the marriage
day.

It gave ample time for all preparation,
for a marriage with the Indian is by no
means such a mighty grand affair as it
often becomes among the white men.
There are no satins and silks to be fitted
like a bark to a tree, to the trembling
form of the fearful bride. No laces and
ribbons, scarfs and shawls, no embroidered
handkerchiefs, and beautiful
stitched garments to be made, which
often for months beforehand employ the
busy, nimble fingers of the skillful
seamstress and mantuamaker, and the
important offices of the refined milliner,
whose selections, and whose genius
plans the attire of the expecting, impatient
girl. Nor is there any occasion
for the service of the cake-making, candified,
sweet-scented confectioner, that
knows the most fashionable, and last
approved spices used for his cakes, or
the latest twist, and the most graceful
curves his candies should be wrought
into. No butler examines the sparkle,
or tastes the flavor of the merry grape-juice,
that is to enliven the marriage
feast, and gladden the hearts, not unfrequently
confuse and bewilder the little
brains of the fashionable guests. None
of this was necessary, and it was well
for the loving pair it was not, for then
had their hopes been darkened at once,
for these things thrive not at present at
the base of the Rocky Mountains.

But a simple feast, abundant, but humble
and modest, and the lovely charms
and graces nature gave to the warmhearted,
beautiful Coquese, as a bridal
garment, that all the milliners and artists
in the wide world could not equal, were
ornaments enough for this fair girl, and
at the appointed day she was ready to
stand by the side of her dear, and truly
loved Charles, and in the presence of the
village, publicly unite herself to him.—
Charles, with a joyful face and beating
heart, as he stood there and gazed upon
the fair girl, about to become his, thought
he never before beheld a female half so
lovely and beautiful. Her dark, silken
hair that hung in flowing curls around
her smooth and polished neck, was confined
at the top of the head by a wreath
of wild flowers of various bright glowing
colors, arranged and woven together by
her own inimitable taste. Her loose,
girdle-waisted, calico dress, that hung
from her polished shoulders, and displayed
to advantage the budding charms
of her fruitful and swelling bust, but half
hid by the light, silk scarf her lover gave
her, and which hung in graceful folds
from her shoulders; the beaded little
moccasin that covered her pretty foot,
and above all, the smile of love, and perfect
confidence, that shone in her eyes,
as they fondly were raised to his face,
completely entranced him, and he felt
proud to call her his own dear wife.

The ceremony, if it might be termed
such, was exceedingly brief. Standing
together, with her hand resting in his,
and the tribe gathered around them, she
first, in a clear, distinct voice, proclaimed
before them all, her love for the youth
who then held her hand, and promised
in the presence of her tribe, and of the
Great Spirit, whom she invoked as a
witness, to love him through life, and
faithfully to cherish him, and perform
the duties of an affectionate, loving wife.

When she ceased, Charles, in his turn,
placed his hand in hers, and in the same
manner, and with the same solemn invocation
of the Great Spirit, to witness the
act, promised before all the assembled
tribe, to watch over, protect and love this
dear maid that stood by his side, and
whose hand he now held, so long as he
should live. As the last words fell from
his tongue, he threw his arms around
her, drew her to his bosom, she clasped
at the same instant her arms around his
neck, and their lips met in a long, sweet
kiss, the first act of their union, the seal
of their mutual promises to each other,
and the outward token of their affection.
This closed the ceremony, and they

were man and wife. The men and
women of the tribe gathered close around
them and commenced in low soft strains
to chant the virtues of the bridegroom,
his courage and daring on the war path,
his boldness and dexterity on the hunting
path, and the generosity and nobleness
of his character.

As they ceased, the women took up
the strain and sung the praises of the
bride. Her beauty, they said, was like
the rising morn, that blushes rosy in the
eastern sky. Her heart, true as the dove
to his mate, would never leave, or cease
to love her mate. Her busy, cunning
hands would spread the tempting board
for her loved husband, and her skillful
hand prepare the adorned moccasin for
his feet, and her sweet voice sing the
soothing songs of his victories and brave
deeds. As they finished, both together
joined in a low, more solemn and slow
measure, and invoked the blessings of
the Good Spirit to descend upon them,
and ever attend their steps. They asked
for them children who should grow up in
strength and beauty before them, their
pride, and their comfort. And after
exhausting the catalogue of blessings,
they ceased. And now the feast was
spread, and with many a look of love
and true affection between the young
men and their dusky loves, did they set
themselves down to the cheerful, joyous
repast.

At night they formed a bridal procession,
and escorted the new couple
through the village, stopping at the door
of each lodge, when both bride and bride-groom
received some present from the
family, together with their separate blessing.
After they had gone through the
village in this way, and called at each
lodge, loaded with presents, they returned
home, attended by the procession,
each member of which bore a blazing
pine torch in his hand. A shout of joy
was their parting good night, and our
hero and his wife entered their home.—
And here we must drop the curtain that
veils the sacred pleasures and confidence
of our happy pair, and forbids the intrusion
of curiosity.