agility high in the air and, alighting, stand perfectly still.  This exhibition called the French from their repose, who seemed delighted, and very soon joined in the dance; mirth excited mirth, and in a little while the village was in a complete uproar.  The young warriors, however, were seen to scowl whenever the French approached too nigh the women, and especially when they took their hands and turned them around.  The French were not slow to perceive this, nor were they mistaken in the delight it afforded the girls.  The timidity of the latter soon disappeared and each lass singled out a beau, and was quite familiar with him.  The French remained for some days enjoying the hospitality of the Natchez, returning to their boats and to the opposite shore of the river at night for greater security.

Among the French there was one, a stalwart young fellow, who had made the conquest of a heart among the maidens, and was surprised late at night to find she had swum the Mississippi to place herself by his side at the camp-fire.  She implored him to remain with the Natchez and become a Great Sun, that her family was one of great influence at the White Clay village of which she was the belle, and she would marry him.  She was rich, and the favorite of the Little Sun of her town, who had given her great presents.  But Crapaud was aware of the price of these gifts, and though he did not refuse, was not inclined to the union, or to remain with her people.  He promised, however, to see her to-morrow, and told her if he could prevail on some of his companions to remain, he would; but insisted if they would not, she must consent to follow him and provide a girl for each of his companions, who would accompany them to their homes, which he made very lovely in his description.  They were standing now on the bank of the river and day was approaching.  She pointed to the planet just above the horizon, and then to the place in the heavens where it would be in an hour, and said she must then be in her lodge, and plunging into the river swam rapidly to the opposite shore.  The next day was the one appointed for the departure of La Salle and party.  True to her promise—­the Natchez girl had found a maiden for each of the party, who was willing to abandon her people and go with the strangers on their perilous and unknown journey, and to be the wives of the pale-faces.

The French, with much ceremony, were dismissed by the Great Sun, and a strong escort of both sexes followed them to their boats.  The ceremony of shaking hands was gone through with; all the men first, and then the women; the last, as previously arranged, were the girls who were to follow their sweethearts.  At a signal each was grasped and hurried forward toward the boats.  The alarm was given, and in a moment the bows of the warriors were strung, and they rushed yelling to the rescue; overpowered, the French released the women and springing into their boats were soon out of danger of the arrows which were sent in showers after them—­nor did they escape unscathed.  Several of the men were wounded, and some of them severely.  When once away from the shore, the French seized their guns and fired a volley, but were prevented from further demonstrations by La Salle; not wishing to leave behind him an enemy, who might be troublesome to him on his return up the river.