The shadows of evening gathered thick about that Indian camp, and the rippling of the river, and the occasional bark of some watchful dog, were all the sounds that were heard, as Nainee took her way to Anacaona’s lodge. Soon the two beautiful girls, followed by the young Indian, were walking side by side along the banks of the Illinois, the moon and the bright stars lighting their way. Anacaona knew that the same stream flowed past her own loved home, and she broke off a branch from one of the trees near by, and throwing it upon the water, bade it take her farewell to her lover. It was late ere they returned. Nainee had brought some bark and paints—these she gave to Anacaona to amuse herself with, and promising to come again the next evening, she took her leave. All the next day Anacaona busily employed herself in making a small bark canoe, on the bottom of which she painted a rude picture of herself, with her hands bound, in token of her captivity; and on the side there was an eagle’s feather, the badge of Canabo’s tribe. At night she went forth again to walk, and under her blanket was hid the little canoe. She watched the moon, and when a cloud shut out its light, she bent down to the river, as if to bathe her face, and slid her canoe into the stream; her heart beat almost audibly—she feared the Indian might see and get it, and then, she knew, her only hope of escape would be blighted; but he did not notice it, and soon it was carried so far down by the current that in the pale moonlight it could not be seen. On their return, Nainee entered the lodge, and told Anacaona that she would come the next night and engage the Indian’s attention, and while thus engaged, Anacaona could push aside a log of the lodge that was loose, and escape—“The heart of the Golden Flower is strong,” said Nainee, “and to her the night and the lone woods have no terrors; her heart, too, is true and kind, and she will not seek revenge, or cause harm to fall on Nainee’s tribe.” Anacaona pressed the girl to her bosom, and vowed for her sake to remember only the kindness and forget the wrong. Love, deep and pure, for each other had sprung up in their hearts, and they grieved that they were to part—but they were Indian girls, and no tears were shed, no words wasted; the deep waters of the heart were troubled, but the surface was calm and unruffled, and seemingly unmoved they parted forever.