 would never take the place that is yours, in a
wigwam.«
    June made no answer, but she looked gratified, and even grateful. She knew
that few, perhaps no Indian girl, within the circle of Arrowhead's acquaintance,
could compare with herself, in personal attractions, and though it might suit
her husband to marry a dozen wives, she knew of no one, beside Mabel, whose
influence she could really dread. So keen an interest, however, had she taken in
the beauty, winning manners, kindness, and feminine gentleness of our heroine,
that when jealousy came to chill these feelings, it had rather lent strength to
that interest, and, under its wayward influence, had actually been one of the
strongest of the incentives that had induced her to risk so much, in order to
save her imaginary rival from the consequences of the attack that she so well
knew was about to take place. In a word, June, with a wife's keenness of
perception, had detected Arrowhead's admiration of Mabel, and instead of feeling
that harrowing jealousy, that might have rendered her rival hateful, as would
have been apt to be the case with a woman unaccustomed to defer to the superior
rights of the lordly sex, she had studied the looks and character of the pale
face beauty, until, meeting with nothing to repel her own feelings, but every
thing to encourage them, she had got to entertain an admiration and love for
her, which, though certainly very different, was scarcely less strong than that
of her husband. Arrowhead himself had sent her to warn Mabel of the coming
danger, though he was ignorant that she had stolen upon the island, in the rear
of the assailants, and was now entrenched in the citadel along with the object
of their joint care. On the contrary, he supposed, as his wife had said, that
Cap and Muir were in the block-house with Mabel, and that the attempt to repel
him and his companions had been made by the men.
    »June sorry, the Lily,« for so the Indian, in her poetical language had
named our heroine, »June sorry, the Lily no marry Arrowhead. His wigwam big, and
a great chief must get wives enough to fill it.«
    »I thank you, June, for this preference, which is not according to the
notions of us white women,« returned Mabel, smiling in spite of the fearful
situation in which she was placed; »but I may not, probably never shall marry at
all.«
    »Must have
