through the dense tea-tree, along with the rest. Under the impression that the unknown enemy were a hostile tribe, she willingly submitted, and sought cover until the tribe had mustered again, when she found that the only one missing was her poor adopted Takawarrant. His loss not being thought of any consequence to the chief of the tribe, she knew it was vain to apply for his rescue from his captors, so that she had to submit.
The time had now arrived when, in accordance with the custom of the tribe, and Matoka having attained age and importance among the Warrigals, it became incumbent upon him that he should take to himself a wife, who was to be stolen from some rival tribe; and in order to sustain that dignity which by his bravery he held, he chose to carry off his bride from among his most hostile enemies, the more risk and danger he ran in such an undertaking the more exalted would be his position in the estimation of the tribe. One moon was the allotted time for accomplishing his undertaking.
True to the confidence placed in him, Matoka returned before the specified time with a female stranger, and to Lindigo a very welcome one, on seeing her wear a European calico dress, and above all her being able to converse in broken English, a language she had not heard for many days.
The joy experienced by Lindigo was great on listening to Maria, as she called herself, and which name she said was given to her by "Massa Duart," her own and her husband Quandak's white master. She then told how she had been ruthlessly taken away while Quandak was from home, how kind Massa Duart was to them, and so beloved by all his servants and acquaintances, how she had been nursing Mrs. Munro's little boy and girl "Charlie and Bella," how Mrs. Munro kept house for her master, and her husband Donald acted as overseer, how little Takawarrant became quite happy in his new home, and lastly how Quandak on his return would institute a search for her.
These were the acceptable and joyful details furnished by the communicative Maria to her eager listener, who drank in every word of the narrative, although couched
