The Pathfinder
or
The Inland Sea

By James Fenimore Cooper



PREFACE.

The plan of this tale suggested itself to the writer many
years since, though tbe details are altogether of recent in-
vention.  The idea of associating seamen and savages in
incidents that might be supposed characteristic of the
Great Lakes having been mentioned to a Publisher, the
latter obtained something like a pledge from the Author
to carry out the design at some future day, which pledge
is now tardily and imperfectly redeemed.

The reader may recognize an old friend under new cir-
cumstances in the principal character of this legend.  If
the exhibition made of this old acquaintance, in the novel
circumstances in which he now appears, should be found
not to lessen his favor with the Public, it will be a source
of extreme gratification to the writer, since he has an in-
terest in the individual in question that falls little short
of reality.  It is not an easy task, however, to introduce
the same character in four separate works, and to maintain
the peculiatrities that are indispensable to identity, withont
incurring a risk of fatiguing the reader with sameness;
and the present experiment has been so long delayed quite
as much from doubts of its success as from any other cause.
In this, as in every other undertaking, it must be the
"end" that will "crown the work."

The Indian character has so little variety, that it has
been my object to avoid dwelling on it too much on the
present occasion; its association with the sailor, too, it is
feared, will be found to have more novelty than interest.

It may strike the novice as an anachronism to place
vessels on the Ontario in the middle of the eighteenth century;
but in this particular facts will fully bear out all the li-
cense of the fiction.  Although the precise vessels men-
tioned in these pages may never have existed on that water
or anywhere else, others so nearly resembling them  are
known to have navigated that inland sea, even at a period
much earlier than the one just mentioned, as to form a
sufficient authority for their introduction into a work of
fiction.  It is a fact not generally remembered, however
well known it may be, that there are isolated spots along
the line of the great lakes that date as settlements as far
back as many of the older American towns, and which were
the seats of a species of civilization long before the greater
portion of even the older States was rescued from the wil-
derness.

Ontario in our own times has been the scene of important
naval evolutions.  Fleets have manoeuvered on those waters,
which, half a century ago, were as deserted as waters well
can be; and the day is not distant when the whole of that
vast range of lakes will become the seat of empire, and
fraught with all the interests of human society.  A pass-
ing glimpse, even though it be in a work of fiction, of
what that vast region so lately was, may help to make up
the sum of knowledge by which alone a just appreciation
can be formed of the wonderful means by which Provi-
dence is clearing the way for the advancement of civiliza-
tion across the whole American continent.



THE PATHFINDER.

CHAPTER I.

The turf shall be my fragrant shrine;
My temple, Lord ! that arch of thine;
My censer's breath the mountain airs,
And silent thoughts my only prayers.
MOORE


The sublimity connected with vastness is familiar to
every eye.  The most abstruse, the most far-reaching,
perhaps the most chastened of the poet's thoughts, crowd
on the imagination as he gazes into the depths of the
illimitable void.  The expanse of the ocean is seldom seen
by the novice with indifference; and the mind, even in
the obscurity of night, finds a parallel to that grandeur,
which seems inseparable from images that the senses can-
not compass.  With feelings akin to this admiration and
awe -- the offspring of sublimity -- were the different char-
acters with which the action of this tale must open, gazing
on the scene before them.  Four persons in all, -- two of
each sex, -- they had managed to ascend a pile of trees, that
had been uptorn by a tempest, to catch a view of the objects
that surrounded them.  It is still the practice of the coun-
try to call these spots wind-rows.  By letting in the light
of heaven upon the dark and damp recesses of the wood,
they form a sort of oases in the solemn obscurity of the
virgin forests of America.  The particular wind-row of
which we are writing lay on the brow of a gentle accliv-
ity; and, though small, it had opened the way for an ex-
tensive view to those who might occupy its upper margin,
a rare occurrence to the traveller in the woods.  Philosophy
has not yet determined the nature of the power that so
often lays desolate spots of this description; some ascrib-
ing it to the whirlwinds which produce waterspouts on the
ocean, while others again impute it to sudden and violent
passages of streams of the electric fluid; but the effects in
the woods are familiar to all.  On the upper margin of the
opening, the viewless influence had piled tree on tree, in
such a manner as had not only enabled the two males of
the party to ascend to an elevation of some thirty feet
above the level of the earth, but, with a little care and
encouragement, to induce their more timid companions to
accompany them. The vast trunks which had been broken
and driven by the force of the gust lay blended like jack-
straws; while their branches, still exhaling the fragrance
of withering leaves, were interlaced in a manner to afford
sufficient support to the hands.  One tree had been com-
pletely uprooted, and its lower end, filled with earth, had
been cast uppermost, in a way to supply a sort of staging
for the four adventurers, when they had gained the de-
sired distance from the ground.

The reader is to anticipate none of the appliances of
people of condition in the description of the personal ap-
pearances of the group in question.  They were all way-
farers in the wilderness; and had they not been, neither
their previous habits, nor their actual social positions,
would have accustomed them to many of the luxuries of
rank.  Two of the party, indeed, a male and female, be-
longed to the native owners of the soil, being Indians of
the well-known tribe of the Tuscaroras; while their com-
panions were -- a man, who bore about him the peculiarities
of one who had passed his days on the ocean, and was, too,
in a station little, if any, above that of a common mariner;
and his female associate, who was a maiden of a class in
no great degree superior to his own; though her youth,
sweetness and countenance, and a modest, but spirited mien,
lent that character of intellect and refinement which adds
so much to the charm of beauty in the sex.  On the present
occasion, her full blue eye reflected the feeling of sublimity
that the scene excited, and her pleasant face was beaming
with the pensive expression with which all deep emotions,
even though they bring the most grateful pleasure, shadow
the countenances of the ingenuous and thoughful.

And truly the scene was of a nature deeply to impress the
imagination of the beholder.  Towards the west, in which
direction the faces of the party were turned, the eye ranged
over an ocean of leaves, glorious and rich in the varied
and lively verdure of a generous vegetation, and shaded
by the luxuriant tints which belong to the forty-second
degree of latitude.  The elm wifh its graceful and weep-
ing top, the rich varieties of the maple, most of the noble
oaks of the American forest, with the broad-leaved linden
known in the parlance of the conutry as the basswood,
mingled their uppermost branches, forming one broad and
seemingly interminable carpet of foliage which stretched
away towards the setting sun, until it bounded the hori-
zon, by blending with the clouds, as the waves and the sky
meet at the base of the vault of heaven.  Here and there,
by some accident of the tempests, or by a caprice of nature,
a trifling opening among these giant members of the forest
permitted an inferior tree to struggle upward toward the
light, and to lift its modest head nearly to a level with
the surrounding surface of verdure.  Of this class were the
birch, a tree of some account in regions less favored, the
quivering aspen, various generous nut-woods, and divers
others which resembled the ignoble and vulgar, thrown by
circumstances into the presence of the stately and great.
Here and there, too, the tall straight trunk of the pine
pierced the vast field, rising high above it, like some grand
monument reared by art on a plain of leaves.

It was the vastness of the view, the nearly unbroken
surface of verdure, that contained the principle of grandeur.
The beauty was to be traced in the delicate tints, relieved
by graduations of light and shade; while the solemn repose
induced the feeling allied to awe.

"Uncle," said the wondering, but pleased girl, address-
ing her male companion, whose arm she rather touched
than leaned on, to steady her own light but firm footing,
"this is like a view of the ocean you so much love!"

"So much for ignorance, and a girl's fancy, Magnet," -
a term of affection the sailor often used in allusion to his
niece's personal attractions; "no one but a child would
think of likening this handful of leaves to a look at the
real Atlantic.  You might seize all these tree-tops to
Neptune's jacket, and they would make no more than a
nosegay for his bosom."

"More fanciful than true, I think, uncle.  Look thither;
it must be miles on miles, and yet we see nothing but
leaves! what could one behold, if looking at the
ocean?"

"More!" returned the uncle, giving an impatient
gesture with the elbow the other touched, for his arms
were crossed, and the hands were thrust into the bosom of
a vest of red cloth, a fashion of the times, --  "more, Mag-
net! say, rather, what less?  Where are your combing seas,
your blue water, your rollers, your breakers, your whales,
or your waterspouts, and your endless motion, in this bit
of a forest, child?"

"And where are your tree-tops, your solemn silence,
your fragrant leaves, and your beautiful green, uncle, on
the ocean?"

"Tut, Magnet! if your understood the thing, you would
know that green water is a sailor's bane.  He scarcely
relishes a greenhorn less."

"But green trees are a different thing.  Hist! that
sound is the air breathing among the leaves!"

"You should hear a nor-wester breathe, girl, if you
fancy wind aloft.  Now, where are your gales, and hurri-
canes, and trades, and levanters, and such like incidents,
in this bit of a forest? and what fishes have you swim-
ming beneath yonder tame surface?"

"That there have been tempests here, these signs around
us plainly show; and beasts, if not fishes, are beneath those
leaves."

"I do not know that," returned the uncle, with a sailor's
dogmatism.  "They told us many stories at Albany of the
wild animals we should fall in with, and yet we have seen
nothing to frighten a seal.  I doubt if any of your inland
animals will compare with a low latitude shark."

"See!" exclaimed the niece, who was more occupied
with the sublimity and beauty of the "boundless wood"
than with her uncle's arguments; "yonder is a smoke
curling over the tops of the trees -- can it come from a
house?"

"Ay, ay; there is a look of humanity in that smoke,"
returned the old seaman, "which is worth a thousand trees.
I must show it to Arrowhead, who may be running past
a port without knowing it.  It is probable there is a
caboose where there is a smoke."

As he concluded, the uncle drew a hand from his bosom,
touched the male Indian, who was standing near him,
lightly on the shoulder, and pointed out at thin line of
vapor which was stealing slowly out of the wilderness of
leaves, at a distance of about a mile, and was diffusing
itself in almost imperceptible threads of humidity in the
quivering atmosphere.  The Tuscarora was one of those
noble-looking warriors oftener met with among the abo-
rigines of this continent a century since than to-day; and,
while he had mingled sufficiently with the colonists to be
familiar with their habits and even with their language,
he had lost little, if any, of the wild grandeur and simple
dignity of a chief.  Between him and the old seaman the
intercourse had been friendly, but distant; for the Indian
had been too much accustomed to mingle with the officers
of the different military posts he had frequented not to
understand that his present companion was only a subor-
dinate.  So imposing, indeed, had been the quiet superior-
ity of the Tuscarora's reserve, that Charles Cap, for so was
the seaman named, in his most dogmatical or facetious
moments, had not ventured on familiarity in an inter-
course which had now lasted more than a week.  The sight
of the curling smoke, however, had struck the latter like
the sudden appearance of a sail at sea; and, for the first
time since they met, he ventured to touch the warrior, as
has been related.

The quick eye of the Tuscarora instantly caught a sight
of the smoke; and for full a minute he stood, slightly
raised on tiptoe, with distended nostrils, like the buck that
scents a taint in the air, and a gaze as riveted as that of
the trained pointer while he waits his master's aim.  Then,
falling back on his feet, a low exclamation, in the soft
tones that form so singular a contrast to its harsher cries
in the Indian warrior's voice, was barely audible; other-
wise, he was undisturbed.  His countenance was calm, and
his quick, dark, eagle eye moved over the leafy panorama,
as if to take in at a glance every circumstance that might
enlighten his mind.  That the long journey they had at-
tempted to make through a broad belt of wilderness was
necessarily attended with danger, both uncle and niece
well knew; though neither could at once determine
whether the sign that others were in their vicinity was the
harbinger of good or evil.

"There must be Oneidas or Tuscaroras near us, Arrow-
head," said Cap, addressing his Indian companion by his
conventional English name; "will it not be well to join
company with them, and get a comfortable berth for the
night in their wigwam?"

"No wigwam there," Arrowhead answered in his un-
moved manner -- "too much tree."

"But Indians must be there; perhaps some old mess-
mates of your own, Master Arrowhead."

"No Tuscarora -- no Oneida -- no Mohawk -- pale-face
fire."

"The devil it is?  Well, Magnet, this surpasses a seaman's
philosophy: we old sea-dogs can tell a lubber's nest from
a mate's hammock; but I do not think the oldest admiral
in his Majesty's fleet can tell a king's smoke from a
collier's."

The idea that human beings were in their vicinity, in
that ocean of wilderness, had deepened the flush on the
blooming cheek and brightened the eye of the fair crea-
ture at his side; but she soon turned with a look of sur-
prise to her relative, and said hesitatingly, for both had
often admired the Tuscarora's knowledge, or, we might
almost say, instinct, --

"A pale-face's fire!  Surely, uncle, he cannot know _that_?"

"Ten days since, child, I would have sworn to it; but
now I hardly know what to believe.  May I take the lib-
erty of asking, Arrowhead, why you fancy that smoke,
now, a pale-face's smoke, and not a red-skin's?"

"Wet wood," returned the warrior, with the calmness
with which the pedagogue might point out an arithmetical
demonstration to his puzzled pupil.  "Much wet -- much
smoke; much water -- black smoke."

"But, begging your pardon, Master Arrowhead, the
smoke is not black, nor is there much of it.  To my eye,
now, it is as light and fanciful a smoke as ever rose from
a captain's tea-kettle, when nothing was left to make the
fire but a few chips from the dunnage."

"Too much water," returned Arrowhead, with a slight
nod of the head; "Tuscarora too cunning to make fire
with water! pale-face too much book, and burn anything;
much book, little know."

"Well, that's reasonable, I allow," said Cap, who was no
devotee of learning: "he means that as a hit at your read-
ing, Magnet; for the chief has sensible notions of things
in his own way.  How far, now, Arrowhead, do you make
us, by your calculation, from the bit of a pond that you
call the Great Lake, and towards which we have been so
many days shaping our course?"

The Tuscarora looked at the seaman with quiet superi-
ority as he answered, "Ontario, like heaven; one sun, and
the great traveller will know it."

"Well, I have been a great traveller, I cannot deny;
but of all my v'y'ges this has been the longest, the least
profitable, and the farthest inland.  If this body of fresh
water is so nigh, Arrowhead, and so large, one might think
a pair of good eyes would find it out; for apparently every-
thing within thirty miles is to be seen from this look-
out."

"Look," said Arrowhead, stretching an arm before him
with quiet grace; "Ontario!"

"Uncle, you are accustomed to cry 'Land ho!' but not
'Water ho!' and you do not see it," cried the niece, laugh-
ing, as girls will laugh at their own idle conceits.

"How now, Magnet! dost suppose that I shouldn't know
my native element if it were in sight?"

"But Ontario is not your native element, dear uncle;
for you come from the salt water, while this is fresh."

"That might make some difference to your young mar-
iner, but none to the old one.  I should know water, child,
were I to see it in China."

"Ontario," repeated Arrowhead, with emphasis, again
stretching his hand towards the north-west.

Cap looked at the Tuscarora, for the first time since
their acquaintance, with something like an air of contempt,
though he did not fail to follow the direction of the chief's
eye and arm, both of which were directed towards a vacant
point in the heavens, a short distance above the plain of
leaves.

"Ay, ay; this is much as I expected, when I left the
coast in search of a fresh-water pond," resumed Cap,
shrugging his shoulders like one whose mind was made up,
and who thought no more need be said.  "Ontario may be
there, or, for that matter, it may be in my pocket.  Well,
I suppose there will be room enough, when we reach it,
to work our canoe.  But Arrowhead, if there be pale-faces
in our neighborhood, I confess I should like to get within
hail of them."

The Tuscarora now gave a quiet inclination of his head,
and the whole party descended from the roots of the up-
torn tree in silence.  When they reached the ground,
Arrowhead intimated his intention to go towards the fire,
and ascertain who had lighted it; while he advised his
wife and the two others to return to a canoe, which they
had left in the adjacent stream, and await his return.

"Why, chief, this might do on soundings, and in an
offing where one knew the channel," returned old Cap;
"but in an unknown region like this I think it unsafe to
trust the pilot alone too far from the ship: so, with your
leave, we will not part company."

"What my brother want?" asked the Indian gravely,
though without taking offence at a distrust that was suffi-
ciently plain.

"Your company, Master Arrowhead, and no more.  I will
go with you and speak these strangers."

The Tuscarora assented without difficulty, and again
he directed his patient and submissive little wife, who
seldom turned her full rich black eye on him but to ex-
press equally her respect, her dread, and her love, to pro-
ceed to the boat.  But here Magnet raised a difficulty.
Although spirited, and of unusual energy under circum-
stances of trial, she was but woman; and the idea of being
entirely deserted by her two male protectors, in the midst
of a wilderness that her senses had just told her was seem-
ingly illimitable, became so keenly painful, that she ex-
pressed a wish to accompany her uncle.

"The exercise will be a relief, dear sir, after sitting so
long in the canoe," she added, as the rich blood slowly re-
turned to a cheek that had paled in spite of her efforts to
be calm; "and there may be females with the strangers."

"Come, then, child; it is but a cable's length, and we
shall return an hour before the sun sets."

With this permission, the girl, whose real name was
Mabel Dunham, prepared to be of the party; while the
Dew-of-June, as the wife of Arrowhead was called, pas-
sively went her way towards thie canoe, too much accus-
tomed to obedience, solitude, and the gloom of the forest
to feel apprehension.

The three who remained in the wind-row now picked
their way around its tangled maze, and gained the margin
of the woods.  A few glances of the eye sufficed for Arrow-
head; but old Cap deliberately set the smoke by a pocket-
compass, before he trusted himself within the shadows of
the trees.

"This steering by the nose, Magnet, may do well enough
for an Indian, but your thoroughbred knows the virtue of
the needle," said the uncle, as he trudged at the heels of
the light-stepping Tuscarora.  "America would never have
been discovered, take my word for it, if Columbus had
been nothing but nostrils.  Friend Arrowhead, didst ever
see a machine like this?"

The Indian turned, cast at glance at the compass, which
Cap held in a way to direct his course, and gravely an-
swered, "A pale-face eye.  The Tuscarora see in his head.
The Salt-water (for so the Indian styled his companion)
all eye now; no tongue."

"He means, uncle, that we had needs be silent, perhaps
he distrusts the persons we are about to meet."

"Ay, 'tis an Indian's fashion of going to quarters.  You
perceive he has examined the priming of his rifle, and it
may be as well if I look to that of my own pistols."

Without betraying alarm at these preparations, to which
she had become accustomed by her long journey in the
wilderness, Mabel followed with a step as elastic as that of
the Indian, keeping close in the rear of her companions.
For the first half mile no other caution beyond a rigid
silence was observed; but as the party drew nearer to the
spot where the fire was known to be, much greater care
became necessary.

The forest, as usual, had little to intercept the view
below the branches but the tall straight trunks of trees.
Everything belonging to vegetation had struggled towards
the light, and beneath the leafy canopy one walked, as it
might be, through a vast natural vault, upheld by myriads
of rustic columns.  These columns or trees, however, often
served to conceal the adventurer, the hunter, or the foe;
and, as Arrowhead swiftly approached the spot where his
practised and unerrimig senses told him the strangers ought
to be, his footstep gradually became lighter, his eye more
vigilant, and his person was more carefully concealed.

"See, Saltwater," said he exulting, pointing through
the vista of trees; "pale-face fire!"

"By the Lord, the fellow is right!" muttered Cap;
"there they are, sure enough, and eating their grub as
quietly as if they were in the cabin of a three-decker."

"Arrowhead is but half right!" whispered Mabel, "for
there are two Indians and only one white man."

"Pale-faces," said the Tuscarora, holding up two fingers;
"red man," holding up one.

"Well," rejoined Cap, "it is hard to say which is right
and which is wrong.  One is entirely white, and a fine
comely lad he is, with an air of respectability about him;
one is a red-skin as plain as paint and nature can make
him; but the third chap is half-rigged, being neither brig
nor schooner."

"Pale-faces," repeated Arrowhead, again raising two
fingers, "red man," showing but one.

"He must be right, uncle; for his eye seems never to
fail.  But it is now urgent to know whether we meet as
friends or foes.  They may be French."

"One hail will soon satisfy us on that head," returned
Cap.  "Stand you behind the tree, Magnet, lest the knaves
take it into their heads to fire a broadside without a parley,
and I will soon learn what colors they sail under."

The uncle had placed his two hands to his mouth to
form a trumpet, and was about to give the promised hail,
when a rapid movement from the hand of Arrowhead de-
feated the intention by deranging the instrument.

"Red man, Mohican," said the Tuscarora; "good; pale-
faces, Yengeese."

"These are heavenly tidings," murmured Mabel, who
little relished the prospect of a deadly fray in that remote
wilderness.  "Let us approach at once, dear uncle, and
proclaim ourselves friends."

"Good," said the Tuscarora "red man cool, and know;
pale-face hurried, and fire.  Let the squaw go."

"What!" said Cap in astonishment; "send little Mag-
net ahead as a lookout, while two lubbers, like you and
me, lie-to to see what sort of a land-fall she will make!
If I do, I -- "

"It is wisest, uncle," interrupted the generous girl,
"and I have no fear.  No Christian, seeing a woman ap-
proach alone, would fire upon her; and my presence will
be a pledge of peace.  Let me go forward, as Arrowhead
wishes, and all will be well.  We are, as yet, unseen, and
the surprise of the strangers will not partake of alarm."

"Good," returned Arrowhead, who did not conceal his
approbation of Mabel's spirit.

"It has an unseaman-like look," answered Cap; "but,
being in the woods, no one will know it.  If you think,
Mabel -- "

"Uncle, I know.  There is no cause to fear for me; and
you are always nigh to protect me."

"Well, take one of the pistols, then -- "

"Nay, I had better rely on my youth and feebleness,"
said the girl, smiling, while her color heightened under
her feelings.  "Among Christian men, a woman's best
guard is her claim to their protection.  I know nothing of
arms, and wish to live in ignorance of them."

The uncle desisted; and, after receiving a few cautious
instructions from the Tuscarora, Mabel rallied all her
spirit, and advanced alone towards the group seated near
the fire.  Although the heart of the girl beat quick, her
step was firm, and her movements, seemingly, were with-
out reluctance.  A death-like silence reigned in the forest,
for they towards whom she approached were too much oc-
cupied in appeasing their hunger to avert their looks for
an instant from the important business in which they
were all engaged.  When Mabel, however, had got within
a hundred feet of the fire, she trod upon a dried stick, and
the trifling noise produced by her light footstep caused
the Mohican, as Arrowhead had pronounced the Indian
to be, and his companion, whose character had been
thought so equivocal, to rise to their feet, as quick as
thought.  Both glanced at the rifles that leaned against a
tree; and then each stood without stretching out an arm,
as his eyes fell on the form of the girl.  The Indian uttered
a few words to his companion, and resumed his seat and
his meal as calmly as if no interruption had occurred.  On
the contrary, the white man left the fire, and came forward
to meet Mabel.

The latter saw, as the stranger approached that she was
about to be addressed by one of her own color, though his
dress was so strange a mixture of the habits of the two
races, that it required a near look to be certain of the fact.
He was of middle age; but there was an open honesty, a
total absence of guile, in his face, which otherwise would
not have been thought handsome, that at once assured
Magnet she was in no danger.  Still she paused.

"Fear nothing, young woman," said the hunter, for
such his attire would indicate him to be; "you have met
Christian men in the wilderness, and such as know how to
treat all kindly who are disposed to peace and justice.  I
am a man well known in all these parts, and perhaps one
of my names may have reached your ears.  By the
Frenchers and the red-skins on the other side of the Big
Lakes, I am called La Longue Carabine; by the Mohicans,
a just-minded and upright tribe, what is left of them,
Hawk Eye; while the troops and rangers along this side of
the water call me Pathfinder, inasmuch as I have never
been known to miss one end of the trail, when there was a
Mingo, or a friend who stood in need of me, at the other."

This was not uttered boastfully, but with the honest
confidence of one who well knew that by whatever name
others might have heard of him, ho had no reason to blush
at the reports.  The effect on Mabel was instantaneous.
The moment she heard the last _sobriquet_ she clasped her
hands eagerly and repeated the word "Pathfinder!"

"So they call me, young woman, and many a great lord
has got a title that he did not half so well merit; though,
if truth be said, I rather pride myself in finding my way
where there is no path, than in finding it where there is.
But the regular troops are by no means particular, and
half the time they don't know the difference between a
trail and a path, though one is a matter for the eye, while
the other is little more than scent."

"Then you are the friend my father promised to send
to meet us?"

"If you are Sergeant Dunham's daughter, the great
Prophet of the Delawares never uttered more truth."

"I am Mabel; and yonder, hid by the trees, are my
uncle, whose name is Cap, and a Tuscarora called Arrow-
head.  We did not hope to meet you until we had nearly
reached the shores of the lake."

"I wish a juster-minded Indian had been your guide,"
said Pathfinder; "for I am no lover of the Tuscaroras, who
have travelled too far from the graves of their fathers
always to remember the Great Spirit; and Arrowhead is
an ambitious chief.  Is the Dew-of-June with him?"

"His wife accompanies us, and a humble and mild crea-
ture she is."

"Ay, and true-hearted; which is more than any who
know him will say of Arrowhead.  Well, we must take
the fare that Providence bestows, while we follow the trail
of life.  I suppose worse guides might have been found
than the Tuscarora; though he has too much Mingo blood
for one who consorts altogether with the Delawares."

"It is, then, perhaps, fortunate we have met," said
Mabel.

"It is not misfortunate, at any rate; for I promised the
Sergeant I would see his child safe to the garrison, though
I died for it.  We expected to meet you before you reached
the Falls, where we have left our own canoe; while we
thought it might do no harm to come up a few miles, in
order to be of service if wanted.  It is lucky we did, for I
doubt if Arrowhead be the man to shoot the current."

"Here come my uncle and the Tuscarora, and our parties
can now join."  As Mabel concluded, Cap and Arrowhead,
who saw that the conference was amicable, drew nigh; and
a few words sufficed to let them know as much as the girl
herself had learned from the strangers.  As soon as this
was done, the party proceeded towards the two who still
remained near the fire.



CHAPTER II.

Yea! long as Nature's humblest child
Hath kept her temple undefiled
   By simple sacrifice,
Earth's fairest scenes are all his own,
He is a monarch and his throne
   Is built amid the skies!
WILSON.


The Mohican continued to eat, though the second white
man rose, and courteously took off his cap to Mabel Dun-
ham.  He was young, healthful, and manly in appearance;
and he wore a dress which, while it was less rigidly pro-
fessional than that of the uncle, also denoted one accus-
tomed to the water.  In that age, real seamen were a class
entirely apart from the rest of mankind, their ideas, or-
dinary language, and attire being as strongly indicative of
their calling as the opinions, speech, and dress of a Turk
denote a Mussulman.  Although the Pathfinder was
scarcely in the prime of life, Mabel had met him with a
steadiness that may have been the consequence of having
braced her nerves for the interview; but when her eyes
encountered those of the young man at the fire, they fell
before the gaze of admiration with which she saw, or
fancied she saw, he greeted her.  Each, in truth, felt that
interest in the other which similarity of age, condition,
mutual comeliness, and their novel situation would be
likely to inspire in the young and ingenuous.

"Here," said Pathfinder, with an honest smile bestowed
on Mabel, "are the friends your worthy father has sent to
meet you.  This is a great Delaware; and one who has had
honors as well as troubles in his day.  He has an Indian
name fit for a chief, but, as the language is not always easy
for the inexperienced to pronounce we naturally turn it
into English, and call him the Big Sarpent.  You are not
to suppose, however, that by this name we wish to say that
he is treacherous, beyond what is lawful in a red-skin; but
that he is wise, and has the cunning which becomes a war-
nor.  Arrowhead, there, knows what I mean."

While the Pathfinder was delivering this address, the
two Indians gazed on each other steadily, and the Tus-
carora advanced and spoke to the other in an apparently
friendly manner.

"I like to see this," continued Pathfinder; "the salutes
of two red-skins in the woods, Master Cap, are like the
hailing of friendly vessels on the ocean.  But speaking of
water, it reminds me of my young friend, Jasper Western
here, who can claim to know something of these matters,
seeing that he has passed his days on Ontario."

"I am glad to see you, friend," said Cap, giving the
young fresh-water sailor a cordial grip; "though you must
have something still to learn, considering the school to
which you have been sent.  This is my niece Mabel; I call
her Magnet, for a reason she never dreams of, though you
may possibly have education enough to guess at it, having
some pretentions to understand the compass, I suppose."

"The reason is easily comprehended," said the young
man, involuntarily fastening his keen dark eye, at the
same time, on the suffused face of the girl; "and I feel
sure that the sailor who steers by your Magnet will never
make a bad land-fall."

"Ha! you do make use of some of the terms, I find, and
that with propriety; though, on the whole, I fear you have
seen more green than blue water."

"It is not surprising that we should get some of the
phrases which belong to the land; for we are seldom out
of sight of it twenty-four hours at a time."

"More's the pity, boy, more's the pity!  A very little
land ought to go a great way with a seafaring man.  Now,
if the truth were known, Master Western, I suppose there
is more or less land all round your lake."

"And, uncle, is there not more or less land around the
ocean?" said Magnet quickly; for she dreaded a prema-
ture display of the old seaman's peculiar dogmatism, not
to say pedantry.

"No, child, there is more or less ocean all round the
land; that's what I tell the people ashore, youngster.
They are living, as it might be, in the midst of the sea,
without knowihg it; by sufferance, as it were, the water
being so much the more powerful and the largest.  But
there is no end to conceit in this world: for a fellow who
never saw salt water often fancies he knows more than
one who has gone round the Horn.  No, no, this earth is
pretty much an island; and all that can be truly said not
to be so is water."

Young Western had a profound deference for a mariner
of the ocean, oh which he had often pined to sail; but he
had also a natural regard for the broad sheet on which he
had passed his life, and which was not without its beauties
in his eyes.

"What you say, sir," he answered modestly, "may be
true as to the Atlantic; but we have a respect for the land
up here on Ontario."

"That is because you are always land-locked," returned
Cap, laughing heartily; "but yonder is the the Pathfinder, as
they call him, with some smoking platters, inviting us to
share in his mess; and I will confess that one gets no
venison at sea.  Master Western, civility to girls, at your
time of life, comes as easy as taking in the slack of the
ensign halyards; and if you will just keep an eye to her
kid and can, while I join the mess of the Pathfinder and
our Indian friends, I make no doubt she will remember it."

Master Cap uttered more than he was aware of at the
time.  Jasper Western did attend to the wants of Mabel,
and she long remembered the kind, manly attention of the
young sailor at this their first interview.  He placed the
end of a log for a seat, obtained for her a delicious morsel
of the venison, gave her a draught of pure water from the
spring, and as he sat near her, fast won his way to her
esteem by his gentle but frank manner of manifesting his
care; homage that woman always wishes to receive, but
which is never so flattering or so agreeable as when it
comes from the young to those of their own age -- from the
manly to the gentle.  Like most of those who pass their
time excluded from the society of the softer sex, young
Western was earnest, sincere, and kind in his attentions,
which, though they wanted a conventional refinement,
which, perhaps, Mabel never missed, had those winning
qualities that prove very sufficient as substitutes.  Leav-
ing these two unsophisticated young people to become ac-
quainted through their feelings, rather than their expressed
thoughts, we will turn to the group in which the uncle
had already become a principal actor.

The party had taken their places around a platter of
venison steaks, which served for the common use, and the
discourse naturally partook of the characters of the differ-
ent individuals which composed it.  The Indians were
silent and industrious the appetite of the aboriginal
American for venison being seemingly inappeasable, while
the two white men were communicative, each of the latter
being garrulous and opinionated in his way.  But, as the
dialogue will put the reader in possession of certain facts
that may render the succeeding narrative more clear, it
will be well to record it.

"There must be satisfaction in this life of yours, no
doubt Mr. Pathfinder," continued Cap, when the hunger
of the travellers was so far appeased that they began to
pick and choose among the savory morsels; "it has some
of the chances and luck that we seamen like; and if ours
is all water, yours is all land."

"Nay, we have water too, in our journeyings and
marches," returned his white companion; "we border-
men handle the paddle and the spear almost as much as
the rifle and the hunting-knife."

"Ay; but do you handle the brace and the bow-line, the
wheel and the lead-line, the reef-point and the top-rope?
The paddle is a good thing, out of doubt, in a canoe; but
of what use is it in the ship?"

"Nay, I respect all men in their callings, and I can be-
lieve the things you mention have their uses.  One who
has lived, like myself, in company with many tribes, un-
derstands differences in usages.  The paint of a Mingo is
not the paint of a Delaware; and he who should expect to
see a warrior in the dress of a squaw might be disappointed.
I am not yet very old, but I have lived in the woods, and
have some acquaintance with human natur'.  I never be-
lieve much in the learning of them that dwell in towns,
for I never yet met with one that had an eye for a rifle or
a trail."

"That's my manner of reasoning, Master Pathfinder, to
a yarn.  Walking about streets, going to church of Sun-
days, and hearing sermons, never yet made a man of a
human being.  Send the boy out upon the broad ocean, if
you wish to open his eyes, and let him look upon foreign
nations, or what I call the face of nature, if you wish him
to understand his own character.  Now, there is my
brother-in-law, the Sergeant: he is as good a fellow as
ever broke a biscuit, in his way; but what is he, after all?
Why, nothing but a soldier.  A sergeant, to be sure, but
that is a sort of a soldier, you know.  When he wished to
marry poor Bridget, my sister, I told the girl what he was,
as in duty bound, and what she might expect from such a
husband; but you know how it is with girls when their
minds are jammed by an inclination.  It is true, the Ser-
geant has risen in his calling, and they say he is an im-
portant man at the fort; but his poor wife has not lived
to see it all, for she has now been dead these fourteen
years."

"A soldier's calling is honorable, provided he has fi't
only on the side of right," returned the Pathfinder; "and
as the Frenchers are always wrong, and his sacred Majesty
and these colonies are always right, I take it the Sergeant
has a quiet conscience as well as a good character.  I have
never slept more sweetly than when I have fi't the Mingos,
though it is the law with me to fight always like a white
man and never like an Indian.  The Sarpent, here, has
his fashions, and I have mine; and yet have we fi't side
by side these many years; without either thinking a hard
thought consarning the other's ways. I tell him there is
but one heaven and one hell, notwithstanding his tradi-
tions, though there are many paths to both."

"That is rational; and he is bound to believe you,
though, I fancy, most of the roads to the last are on dry
land.  The sea is what my poor sister Bridget used to call
a 'purifying place,' and one is out of the way of tempta-
tion when out of sight of land.  I doubt if as much can
be said in favor of your lakes up hereaway."

"That towns and settlements lead to sin, I will allow;
but our lakes are bordered by the forests, and one is every
day called upon to worship God in such a temple.  That
men are not always the same, even in the wilderness, I
must admit for the difference between a Mingo and a
Delaware is as plain to be seen as the difference between
the sun and the moon.  I am glad, friend Cap, that we
have met, however, if it be only that you may tell the Big
Sarpent here that there are lakes in which the water is
salt.  We have been pretty much of one mind since our
acquaintance began, and if the Mohican has only half the
faith in me that I have in him, he believes all that I have
told him touching the white men's ways and natur's laws;
but it has always seemed to me that none of the red-skins
have given as free a belief as an honest man likes to the
accounts of the Big Salt Lakes, and to that of their being
rivers that flow up stream."

"This comes of getting things wrong end foremost,"
answered Cap, with a condescending nod.  "You have
thought of your lakes and rifts as the ship; and of the
ocean and the tides as the boat.  Neither Arrowhoad nor
the Serpent need doubt what you have said concerning
both, though I confess myself to some difficulty in swal-
lowing the tale about there being inland seas at all, and
still more that there is any sea of fresh water.  I have
come this long journey as much to satisfy my own eyes
concerning these facts, as to oblige the Sergeant and Mag-
net, though the first was my sister's husband, and I love
the last like a child."

"You are wrong, friend Cap, very wrong, to distrust,
the power of God in any thing," returned Pathfinder
earnestly.  "They that live in the settlements and the
towns have confined and unjust opinions consarning the
might of His hand; but we, who pass our time in His very
presence, as it might be, see things differently -- I mean,
such of us as have white natur's.  A red-skin has his
notions, and it is right that it should be so; and if they
are not exactly the same as a Christian white man's, there
is no harm in it.  Still, there are matters which belong
altogether to the ordering of God's providence; and these
salt and fresh-water lakes are some of them.  I do not
pretend to account for these things, but I think it the
duty of all to believe in them."

"Hold on there, Master Pathfinder," interrupted Cap,
not without some heat; "in the way of a proper and manly
faith, I will turn my back on no one, when afloat.  Al-
though more accustomed to make all snug aloft, and to
show the proper canvas, than to pray when the hurricane
comes, I know that we are but helpless mortals at times,
and I hope I pay reverence where reverence is due.  All I
mean to say is this: that, being accustomed to see water
in large bodies salt, I should like to taste it before I can
believe it to be fresh."

"God has given the salt lick to the deer; and He has
given to man, red-skin and white, the delicious spring at
which to slake his thirst.  It is unreasonable to think that
He may not have given lakes of pure water to the west,
and lakes of impure water to the east."

Cap was awed, in spite of his overweening dogmatism,
by the earnest simplicity of the Pathfinder, though he did
not relish the idea of believing a fact which, for many
years, he had pertinaciously insisted could not be true.
Unwilling to give up the point and, at the same time, un-
able to maintain it against a reasoning to which he was un-
accustomed, and which possessed equally the force of
truth, faith, and probability, he was glad to get rid of the
subject by evasion.

"Well, well, friend Pathfinder," said he, "we will leave
the argument where it is; and we can try the water when
we once reach it.  Only mark my words -- I do not say
that it may not be fresh on the surface; the Atlantic is
sometimes fresh on the surface, near the mouths of great
rivers; but, rely on it, I shall show you a way of tasting
the water many fathoms deep, of which you never dreamed;
and then we shall know more about it."

The guide seemed content to let the matter rest, and
the conversation changed.

"We are not over-conceited consarning our gifts," ob-
served the Pathfinder, after a short pause, "and well know
that such as live in the towns, and near the sea -- "

"On the sea," interrupted Cap.

"On the sea, if you wish it, friend -- have opportunities
which do not befall us of the wilderness.  Still, we know
our own callings, and they are what I consider natural
callings, and are not parvarted by vanity and wantonness.
Now, my gifts are with the rifle, and on a trail, and in the
way of game and scouting; for, though I can use the spear
and the paddle, I pride not myself on either.  The youth
Jasper, there, who is discoursing with the Sergeant's
daughter, is a different cratur'; for he may be said to
breathe the water, as it might be, like a fish.  The Indians
and Frenchers of the north shore call him Eau-douce, on
account of his gifts in this particular.  He is better at the
oar, and the rope too, than in making fires on a trail."

"There must be something about these gifts of which
you speak, after all," said Cap.  "Now this fire, I will ac-
knowledge, has overlaid all my seamanship.  Arrowhead,
there, said the smoke came from a pale-face's fire, and
that is a piece of philosophy which I hold to be equal to
steering in a dark night by the edges of the sand."

"It's no great secret," returned Pathfinder, laughing
with great inward glee, though habitual caution prevented
the emission of any noise.  "Nothing is easier to us who
pass our time in the great school of Providence than to
larn its lessons.  We should be as useless on a trail, or in
carrying tidings through the wilderness, as so many wood-
chucks, did we not soon come to a knowledge of these
niceties.  Eau-douce, as we call him, is so fond of the
water, that he gathered a damp stick or two for our fire;
and wet will bring dark smoke, as I suppose even you fol-
lowers of the sea must know.  It's no great secret, though
all is mystery to such as doesn't study the Lord and His
mighty ways with humility and thankfulness."

"That must be a keen eye of Arrowhead's to see so slight
a difference."

"He would be but a poor Indian if he didn't.  No, no;
it is war-time, and no red-skin is outlying without using
his senses.  Every skin has its own natur', and every
natur' has its own laws, as well as its own skin.  It was
many years before I could master all these higher branches
of a forest education; for red-skin knowledge doesn't
come as easy to white-skin natur', as what I suppose is in-
tended to be white-skin knowledge; though I have but
little of the latter, having passed most of my time in the
wilderness."

"You have been a ready scholar, Master Pathfinder, as
is seen by your understanding these things so well.  I
suppose it would be no great matter for a man regularly
brought up to the sea to catch these trifles, if he could
only bring his mind fairly to bear upon them."

"I don't know that.  The white man has his difficulties
in getting red-skin habits, quite as much as the Indian in
getting white-skin ways.  As for the real natur', it is my
opinion that neither can actually get that of the other."

"And yet we sailors, who run about the world so much,
say there is but one nature, whether it be in the China-
man or a Dutchman.  For my own part, I am much of
that way of thinking too; for I have generally found that
all nations like gold and silver, and most men relish to-
bacco."

"Then you seafaring men know little of the red-skins.
Have you ever known any of your Chinamen who could
sing their death-songs, with their flesh torn with splinters
and cut with knives, the fire raging around their naked
bodies, and death staring them in the face?  Until you
can find me a Chinaman, or a Christian man, that can do
all this, you cannot find a man with a red-skin natur', let
him look ever so valiant, or know how to read all the books
that were ever printed."

"It is the savages only that play each other such hellish
tricks," said Master Cap, glancing his eyes about him un-
easily at the apparently endless arches of the forest.  "No
white man is ever condemned to undergo these trials."

"Nay, therein you are again mistaken," returned the
Pathfinder, coolly selecting a delicate morsel of the veni-
son as his _bonne bouche_; "for thongh these torments belong
only to the red-skin natur', in the way of bearing them like
braves, white-skin natur' may be, and often has been,
agonized by them."

"Happily," said Cap, with an effort to clear his throat,
"none of his Majesty's allies will be likely to attempt such
damnable cruelties on any of his Majesty's loyal subjects.
I have not served much in the royal navy, it is true; but I
have served, and that is something; and, in the way of
privateering and worrying the enemy in his ships and
cargoes, I've done my full share.  But I trust there are no
French savages on this side the lake, and I think you said
that Ontario is a broad sheet of water?"

"Nay, it is broad in our eyes," returned Pathfinder, not
caring to conceal the smile which lighted a face which had
been burnt by exposure to a bright red; "though I mis-
trust that some may think it narrow; and narrow it is, if
you wish it to keep off the foe.  Ontario has two ends,
and the enemy that is afraid to cross it will be certain to
come round it."

"Ah! that comes of your d----d fresh-water ponds!"
growled Cap, hemming so loudly as to cause him instantly
to repent the indiscretion.  "No man, now, ever heard of
a pirate or a ship getting round one end of the Atlantic!"

"Mayhap the ocean has no ends?"

"That it hasn't; nor sides, nor bottom.  The nation
which is snugly moored on one of its coasts need fear
nothing from the one anchored abeam, let it be ever so
savage, unless it possesses the art of ship building.  No,
no! the people who live on the shores of the Atlantic need
fear but little for their skins or their scalps.  A man may
lie down at night in those regions, in the hope of finding
the hair on his head in the morning, unless he wears a
wig."

"It isn't so here.  I don't wish to flurry the young
woman, and therefore I will be in no way particular,
though she seems pretty much listening to Eau-douce, as
we call him; but without the edication I have received, I
should think it at this very moment, a risky journey to
go over the very ground that lies between us and the gar-
rison, in the present state of this frontier.  There are about
as many Iroquois on this side of Ontario as there are on
the other. It is for this very reason, friend Cap, that the
Sergeant has engaged us to come out and show you the
path."

"What! do the knaves dare to cruise so near the guns
of one of his Majesty's works?"

"Do not the ravens resort near the carcass of the deer,
though the fowler is at hand?  They come this-a-way, as
it might be, naturally.  There are more or less whites
passing between the forts and the settlements, and they
are sure to be on their trails.  The Sarpent has come up
one side of the river, and I have come up the other, in
order to scout for the outlying rascals, while Jasper brought
up the canoe, like a bold-hearted sailor as he is.  The
Sergeant told him, with tears in his eyes, all about his child,
and how his heart yearned for her, and how gentle and
obedient she was, until I think the lad would have dashed
into a Mingo camp single-handed, rather than not a-come."

"We thank him, and shall think the better of him for
his readiness; though I suppose the boy has run no great
risk, after all."

"Only the risk of being shot from a cover, as he forced
the canoe up a swift rift, or turned an elbow in the stream,
with his eyes fastened on the eddies.  Of all the risky
journeys, that on an ambushed river is the most risky, in
my judgment, and that risk has Jasper run."

"And why the devil has the Sergeant sent for me to
travel a hundred and fifty miles in this outlandish man-
ner?  Give me an offing, and the enemy in sight, and I'll
play with him in his own fashion, as long as he pleases,
long bows or close quarters; but to be shot like a turtle
asleep is not to my humor.  If it were not for little Mag-
net there, I would tack ship this instant, make the best of
my way back to York, and let Ontario take care of itself,
salt water or fresh water."

"That wouldn't mend the matter much, friend mariner,
as the road to return is much longer, and almost as bad as
the road to go on.  Trust to us, and we will carry you
through safely, or lose our scalps."

Cap wore a tight solid queue, done up in eelskin, while
the top of his head was nearly bald; and he mechanically
passed his hand over both as if to make certain that each
was in its right place.  He was at the bottom, however, a
brave man, and had often faced death with coolness,
though never in the frightful forms in which it presented
itself under the brief but graphic picture of his com-
panion.  It was too late to retreat; and he determined to
put the best face on the matter, though he could not avoid
muttering inwardly a few curses on the indiscretion with
which his brother-in-law, the Sergeant, had led him into
his present dilemma.

"I make no doubt, Master Pathfinder," he answered,
when these thoughts had found time to glance through
his mind, "that we shall reach port in safety.  What dis-
tance may we now be from the fort?"

"Little more than fifteen miles; and swift miles too, as
the river runs, if the Mingos let us go clear."

"And I suppose the woods wilL stretch along starboard
and larboard, as heretofore?"

"Anan?"

"I mean that we shall have to pick our way through
these damned trees."

"Nay, nay, you will go in the canoe, and the Oswego
has been cleared of its flood-wood by the troops.  It will
be floating down stream, and that, too, with a swift cur-
rent."

"And what the devil is to prevent these minks of which
you speak from shooting us as we double a headland, or
are busy in steering clear of the rocks?"

"The Lord! -- He who has so often helped others in
greater difficulties.  Many and many is the time that my
head would have been stripped of hair, skin, and all, hadn't
the Lord fi't of my side.  I never go into a skrimmage,
friend mariner, without thinking of this great ally, who
can do more in battle than all the battalions of the 60th,
were they brought into a single line."

"Ay, ay, this may do well enough for a scouter; but we
seamen like our offing, and to go into action with nothing
in our minds but the business before us -- plain broadside
and broadside work, and no trees or rocks to thicken the
water."

"And no Lord too, I dare to say, if the truth were
known.  Take my word for it, Master Cap, that no battle
is the worse fi't for having the Lord on your side.  Look
at the head of the Big Sarpent, there; you can see the
mark of a knife all along by his left ear: now nothing but
a bullet from this log rifle of mine saved his scalp that
day; for it had fairly started, and half a minute more
would have left him without the war-lock.  When the
Mohican squeezes my hand, and intermates that I be-
friended him in that matter, I tell him no; it was the Lord
who led me to the only spot where execution could be
done, or his necessity be made known, on account of the
smoke.  Sartain, when I got the right position, I finished
the affair of my own accord.  For a friend under the
tomahawk is apt to make a man think quick and act at
once, as was my case, or the Sarpent's spirit would be
hunting in the happy land of his people at this very mo-
ment."

"Come, come, Pathfinder, this palaver is worse than
being skinned from stem to stem; we have but a few hours
of sun, and had better be drifting down this said current
of yours while we may.  Magnet dear, are you not ready
to get under way?"

Magnet started, blushed brightly, and made her prep-
arations for immediate departure.  Not a syllable of the
discourse just related had she heard; for Eau-douce, as
young Jasper was oftener called than anything else, had
been filling her ears with a description of the yet distant
part towards which she was journeying, with accounts of
her father, whom she had not seen since a child, and with
the manner of life of those who lived in the frontier gar-
risons.  Unconsciously she had become deeply interested,
and her thoughts had been too intently directed to these
matters to allow any of the less agreeable subjects dis-
cussed by those so near to reach her ears.  The bustle of
departure put an end to the conversation, and, the bag-
gage of the scouts or guides being trifling, in a few minutes
the whole party was ready to proceed.  As they were about
to quit the spot, however, to the surprise of even his
fellow-guides, Pathfinder collected a quantity of branches
and threw them upon the embers of the fire, taking care
even to see that some of the wood was damp, in order to
raise as dark and dense a smoke as possible.

"When you can hide your trail, Jasper," said he, "a
smoke at leaving an encampment may do good instead of
harm.  If there are a dozen Mingos within ten miles of
us, some on 'em are on the heights, or in the trees, look-
ing out for smokes; let them see this, and much good may
it do them.  They are welcome to our leavings."

"But may they not strike and follow on our trail?"
asked the youth, whose interest in the hazard of his situa-
tion had much increased since the meeting with Magnet.
"We shall leave a broad path to the river."

"The broader the better; when there, it will surpass
Mingo cunning, even, to say which way the canoe has gone
- up stream or down.  Water is the only thing in natur'
that will thoroughly wash out a trail, and even water will
not always do it when the scent is strong.  Do you not see,
Eau-douce, that if any Mingos have seen our path below
the falls, they will strike off towards this smoke, and that
they will naturally conclude that they who began by going
up stream will end by going up stream.  If they know
anything, they now know a party is out from the fort, and
it will exceed even Mingo wit to fancy that we have come
up here just for the pleasure of going back again, and
that, too, the same day, and at the risk of our scalps."

"Certainly," added Jasper, who was talking apart with
the Pathfinder, as they moved towards the wind-row,
"they cannot know anything about the Sergeant's daugh-
ter, for the greatest secrecy has been observed on her ac-
count."

"And they will learn nothing here," returned Path-
finder, causing his companion to see that he trod with the
utmost care on the impression left on the leaves by the
little foot of Mabel; "unless this old salt-water fish has
been taking his niece about in the wind-row, like a fa'n
playing by the side of the old doe."

"Buck, you mean, Pathfinder."

"Isn't he a queerity?  Now I can consort with such a
sailor as yourself, Eau-douce, and find nothing very con-
trary in our gifts, though yours belong to the lakes and
mine to the woods.  Hark'e, Jasper," continued the scout,
laughing in his noiseless manner; "suppose we try the
temper of his blade and run him over the falls?"

"And what would be done with the pretty niece in the
meanwhile?"

"Nay, nay, no harm shall come to her; she must walk
round the portage, at any rate; but you and I can try this
Atlantic oceaner, and then all parties will become better
acquainted.  We shall find out whether his flint will strike
fire; and he may come to know something of frontier
tricks."

Young Jasper smiled, for he was not averse to fun, and
had been a little touched by Cap's superciliousness; but
Mabel's fair face, light, agile form, and winning smiles,
stood like a shield between her uncle and the intended
experiment.

"Perhaps the Sergeant's daughter will be frightened,"
said he.

"Not she, if she has any of the Sergeant's spirit in her.
She doesn't look like a skeary thing, at all.  Leave it to
me, then, Eau-douce, and I will manage the affair alone."

"Not you, Pathfinder; you would only drown both.  If
the canoe goes over, I must go in it."

"Well, have it so, then: shall we smoke the pipe of
agreement on the bargain?"

Jasper laughed, nodded his head by way of consent, and
then the subject was dropped, as the party had reached
the canoe so often mentioned, and fewer words had de-
termined much greater things between the parties.



CHAPTER III.

Before these fields were shorn and till'd,
   Full to the brim our rivers flow'd;
The melody of waters fill'd
   The fresh and boundless wood;
And torrents dash'd, and rivulets play'd,
And fountains spouted in the shade.
BRYANT.


It is generally known that the waters which flow into
the southern side of Ontario are, in general, narrow, slug-
gish, and deep.  There are some exceptions to this rule,
for many of the rivers have rapids, or, as they are termed
in the language of the region, "rifts," and some have falls.
Among the latter was the particular stream on which our
adventurers were now journeying.  The Oswego is formed
by the junction of the Oneida and the Onondaga, both of
wbich flow from lakes; and it pursues its way, through a
gently undulating country, some eight or ten miles, until
it reaches the margin of a sort of natural terrace, down
which it tumbles some ten or fifteen feet, to another level,
across which it glides with the silent, stealthy progress of
deep water, until it throws its tribute into the broad re-
ceptacle of the Ontario.  The canoe in which Cap and his
party had travelled from Fort Stanwix, the last military
station of the Mohawk, lay by the side of this river, and
into it the whole party now entered, with the exception of
Pathfinder, who remained on the land, in order to shove
the light vessel off.

"Let her starn drift down stream, Jasper," said the
man of the woods to the young mariner of the lake, who
had dispossessed Arrowhead of his paddle and taken his
own station as steersman; "let it go down with the cur-
rent.  Should any of these infarnals, the Mingos, strike
our trail, or follow it to this point they will not fail to
look for the signs in the mud; and if they discover
that we have left the shore with the nose of the canoe
up stream, it is a natural belief to think we went up
stream."

This direction was followed; and, giving a vigorous
shove, the Pathfinder, who was in the flower of his strength
and activity, made a leap, landing lightly, and without
disturbing its equilibrium, in the bow of the canoe.  As
soon as it had reached the centre of the river or the
strength of the current, the boat was turned, and it began
to glide noiselessly down the stream.

The vessel in which Cap and his niece had embarked for
their long and adventurous journey was one of the canoes
of bark which the Indians are in the habit of constructing,
and which, by their exceeding lightness and the ease with
which they are propelled, are admirably adapted to a
navigation in which shoals, flood-wood, and other similar
obstructions so often occur.  The two men who composed
its original crew had several times carried it, when emptied
of its luggage, many hundred yards; and it would not have
exceeded the strength of a single man to lift its weight.
Still it was long, and, for a canoe, wide; a want of steadi-
ness being its principal defect in the eyes of the unin-
itiated.  A few hours practice, however, in a great measure
remedied this evil, and both Mabel and her uncle had
learned so far to humor its movements, that they now
maintained their places with perfect composure; nor did
the additional weight of the three guides tax its power in
any particular degree, the breath of the rounded bottom
allowing the necessary quantity of water to be displaced
without bringing the gunwale very sensibly nearer to the
surface of the stream.  Its workmanship was neat; the
timbers were small, and secured by thongs; and the whole
fabric, though it was so slight to the eye, was probably
capable of conveying double the number of persons which
it now contained.

Cap was seated on a low thwart, in the centre of the
canoe; the Big Serpent knelt near him.  Arrowhead and
his wife occupied places forward of both, the former hav-
ing relinquished his post aft.  Mabel was half reclining
behind her uncle, while the Pathfinder and Eau-douce
stood erect, the one in the bow, and the other in the stern,
each using a paddle, with a long, steady, noiseless sweep.
The conversation was carried on in low tones, all the party
beginning to feel the necessity of prudence, as they drew
nearer to the outskirts of the fort, and had no longer the
cover of the woods.

The Oswego, just at that place, was a deep dark stream
of no great width, its still, gloomy-looking current wind-
ing its way among overhanging trees, which, in particular
spots, almost shut out the light of the heavens.  Here and
there some half-fallen giant of the forest lay nearly across
its surface, rendering care necessary to avoid the limbs;
and most of the distance, the lower branches and leaves of
the trees of smaller growth were laved by its waters.  The
picture so beautifully described by our own admirable
poet, and which we have placed at the head of this chapter,
was here realized; the earth fattened by the decayed
vegetation of centuries, and black with loam, the stream
that filled the banks nearly to overflowing, and the "fresh
and boundless wood," being all as visible to the eye as the
pen of Bryant has elsewhere vividly presented them to the
imagination.  In short, the entire scene was one of a rich
and benevolent nature, before it had been subjected to the
uses and desires of man; luxuriant, wild, full of promiSe,
and not without the charm of the picturesque, even in its
rudest state.  It will be remembered that this was in the
year 175-, or long before even speculation had brought any
portion of western New York within the bounds of civili-
zation.  At that distant day there were two great channels
of military communication between the inhabited por-
tion of the colony of New York and the frontiers which
lay adjacent to the Canadas, -- that by Lakes Champlain
and George, and that by means of the Mohawk, Wood
Creek, the Oneida, and the rivers we have been describ-
ing.  Along both these lines of communication military
posts had been established, though there existed a blank
space of a hundred miles between the last fort at the head
of the Mohawk and the outlet of the Oswego, which em-
braced most of the distance that Cap and Mabel had jour-
neyed under the protection of Arrowhead.

"I sometimes wish for peace again," said the Pathfinder,
"when one can range the forest without searching for any
other enemy than the beasts and fishes.  Ah's me! many
is the day that the Sarpent, there, and I have passed hap-
pily among the streams, living on venison, salmon, and
trout without thought of a Mingo or a scalp!  I some-
times wish that them blessed days might come back, for
it is not my real gift to slay my own kind.  I'm sartain
the Sergeant's daughter don't think me a wretch that takes
pleasure in preying on human natur'?"

As this remark, a sort of half interrogatory, was made,
Pathfinder looked behind him; and, though the most
partial friend could scarcely term his sunburnt and hard
features handsome, even Mabel thought his smile attrac-
tive, by its simple ingenuousness and the uprightness that
beamed in every lineament of his honest countenance.

"I do not think my father would have sent one like
those you mention to see his daughter through the wilder-
ness," the young woman answered, returning the smile as
frankly as it was given, but much more sweetly.

"That he wouldn't; the Sergeant is a man of feeling, and
many is the march and the fight that we have had -- stood
shoulder to shoulder in, as _he_ would call it -- though I always
keep my limbs free when near a Frencher or a Mingo."

"You are, then, the young friend of whom my father
has spoken so often in his letters?"

"His _young_ friend -- the Sergeant has the advantage of
me by thirty years; yes, he is thirty years my senior, and
as many my better."

"Not in the eyes of the daughter, perhaps, friend Path-
finder;" put in Cap, whose spirits began to revive when he
found the water once more flowing around him.  "The
thirty years that you mention are not often thought to be
an advantage in the eyes of girls of nineteen."

Mabel colored; and, in turning aside her face to avoid
the looks of those in the bow of the canoe, she encountered
the admiring gaze of the young man in the stern.  As a
last resource, her spirited but soft blue eyes sought refuge
in the water.  Just at this moment a dull, heavy sound
swept up the avenue formed by the trees, borne along by a
light air that hardly produced a ripple on the water.

"That sounds pleasantly," said Cap, pricking up his
ears like a dog that hears a distant baying; "it is the surf
on the shores of your lake, I suppose?"

"Not so -- not so," answered the Pathfinder; "it is
merely this river tumbling over some rocks half a mile
below us."

"Is there a fall in the stream?" demanded Mabel, a still
brighter flush glowing in her face.

"The devil!  Master Pathfinder, or you, Mr. Eau-douce"
(for so Cap began to style Jasper), "had you not better
give the canoe a sheer, and get nearer to the shore?  These
waterfalls have generally rapids above them, and one might
as well get into the Maelstrom at once as to run into their
suction."

"Trust to us, friend Cap," answered Pathfinder; "we
are but fresh-water sailors, it is true, and I cannot boast
of being much even of that; but we understand rifts and
rapids and cataracts; and in going down these we shall do
our endeavors not to disgrace our edication."

"In going down!" exclaimed Cap.  "The devil, man!
you do not dream of going down a waterfall in this egg
shell of bark!"

"Sartain; the path lies over the falls, and it is much
easier to shoot them than to unload the canoe and to carry
that and all it contains around a portage of a mile by
hand."

Mabel turned her pallid countenance towards the young
man in the stern of the canoe; for, just at that moment,
a fresh roar of the fall was borne to her ears by a new
current of the air, and it really sounded terrific, now tlnat
the cause was understood.

"We thought that, by landing the females and the two
Indians," Jasper quietly observed, "we three white men,
all of whom are used to the water, might carry the canoe
over in safety, for we often shoot these falls."

"And we counted on you, friend mariner, as a main-
stay," said Pathfinder, winking to Jasper over his shoulder;
"for you are accustomed to see waves tumbling about; and
without some one to steady the cargo, all the finery of the
Sergeant's daughter might be washed into the river and
be lost."

Cap was puzzled.  The idea of going over a waterfall
was, perhaps, more serious in his eyes than it would have
been in those of one totally ignorant of all that pertained
to boats; for he understood the power of the element, and
the total feebleness of man when exposed to its fury.  Still
his pride revolted at the thought of deserting the boat,
while others not only steadily, but coolly, proposed to con-
tinue in it.  Notwithstanding the latter feeling, and his
innate as well as acquired steadiness in danger, he would
probably have deserted his post; had not the images of
Indians tearing scalps from the human head taken so
strong hold of his fancy as to induce him to imagine the
canoe a sort of sanctuary.

"What is to be done with Magnet?" he demanded, af-
fection for his niece raising another qualm in his con-
science.  "We cannot allow Magnet to land if there are
enemy's Indians near?"

"Nay, no Mingo will be near the portage, for that is a
spot too public for their devilries," answered the Path-
finder confidently.  "Natur' is natur', and it is an Indian's
natur' to be found where he is least expected.  No fear
of him on a beaten path; for he wishes to come upon you
when unprepared to meet him, and the fiery villains make
it a point to deceive you, one way or another.  Sheer in,
Eau-douce, and we will land the Sergeant's daughter on
the end of that log, where she can reach the shore with a
dry foot."

The injunction was obeyed, and in a few minutes the
whole party had left the canoe, with the exception of
Pathfinder and the two sailors.  Notwithstanding his pro-
fessional pride, Cap would have gladly followed; but he
did not like to exhibit so unequivocal a weakness in the
presence of a fresh-water sailor.

"I call all hands to witness," said he, as those who had
landed moved away, "that I do not look on this affair as
anything more than canoeing in the woods.  There is no
seamanship in tumbling over a waterfall, which is a feat
the greatest lubber can perform as well as the oldest
mariner."

"Nay, nay, you needn't despise the Oswego Falls,
neither," put in Pathfinder; "for, thought they may not be
Niagara, nor the Genessee, nor the Cahoos, nor Glenn's,
nor those on the Canada, they are narvous enough for a
new beginner.  Let the Sergeant's daughter stand on
yonder rock, and she will see the manner in which we ig-
norant backwoodsmen get over a difficulty that we can't
get under.  Now, Eau-douce, a steady hand and a true eye,
for all rests on you, seeing that we can count Master Cap
for no more than a passenger."

The canoe was leaving the shore as he concluded, while
Mabel went hurriedly and trembling to the rock that had
been pointed out, talking to her companion of the danger
her uncle so unnecessarily ran, while her eyes were riveted
on the agile and vigorous form of Eau-douce, as he stood
erect in the stern of the light boat, governing its move-
ments.  As soon, however, as she reached a point where
she got a view of the fall, she gave an involuntary but
suppressed scream, and covered her eyes.  At the next
instant, the latter were again free, and the entranced girl
stood immovable as a statue, a scarcely breathing observer
of all that passed.  The two Indians seated themselves
passively on a log, hardly looking towards the stream,
while the wife of Arrowhead came near Mabel, and ap-
reared to watch the motions of the canoe with some such
interest as a child regards the leaps of a tumbler.

As soon as the boat was in the stream, Pathfinder sank
on his knees, continuing to use the paddle, though it was
slowly, and in a manner not to interfere with the efforts
of his companion.  The latter still stood erect; and, as
he kept his eye on some object beyond the fall, it was evi-
dent that he was carefully looking for the spot proper for
their passage.

"Farther west, boy; farther west," muttered Pathfinder;
"there where you see the water foam.  Bring the top of
the dead oak in a line with the stem of the blasted hem-
lock."

Eau-douce made no answer; for the canoe was in the
centre of the stream, with its head pointed towards the
fall, and it had already begun to quicken its motion by the
increased force of the current.  At that moment Cap
would cheerfully have renounced every claim to glory that
could possibly be acquired by the feat, to have been safe
again on shore.  He heard the roar of the water, thunder-
ing, as it might be, behind a screen, but becoming more
and more distinct, louder and louder, and before him he
saw its line cutting the forest below, along which the
green and angry element seemed stretched and shining, as
if the particles were about to lose their principle of cohe-
sion.

"Down with your helm, down with your helm, man!"
he exclaimed, unable any longer to suppress his anxiety,
as the canoe glided towards the edge of the fall.

"Ay, ay, down it is sure enough," answered Pathfinder,
looking behind him for a single instant, with his silent,
joyous laugh, -- "down we go, of a sartinty!  Heave her
starn up, boy; farther up with her starn!"

The rest was like the passage of the viewless wind.  Eau-
douce gave the required sweep with his paddle, the canoe
glanced into the channel, and for a few seconds it seemed
to Cap that he was tossing in a caldron.  He felt the bow
of the canoe tip, saw the raging, foaming water careering
madly by his side, was sensible that the light fabric in
which he floated was tossed about like an egg-shell, and
then, not less to his great joy than to his surprise, he dis-
covered that it was gliding across the basin of still water
below the fall, under the steady impulse of Jasper's
paddle.

The Pathfinder continued to laugh; but he arose from
his knees, and, searching for a tin pot and a horn spoon,
he began deliberately to measure the water that had been
taken in the passage.

"Fourteen spoonfuls, Eau-douce; fourteen fairly meas-
ured spoonfuls.  I have, you must acknowledge, known
you to go down with only ten."

"Master Cap leaned so hard up stream," returned Jasper
seriously, "that I had difficulty in trimming the canoe."

"It may be so; no doubt it _was_ so, since you say it; but
I have known you go over with only ten."

Cap now gave a tremendous hem, felt for his queue as
if to ascertain its safety, and then looked back in order to
examine the danger he had gone through.  His safety is
easily explained.  Most of the river fell perpendicularly
ten or twelve feet; but near its centre the force of the
current had so far worn away the rock as to permit the
water to shoot through a narrow passage, at an angle of
about forty or forty five degrees.  Down this ticklish de-
scent the canoe had glanced, amid fragments of broken
rock, whirlpools, foam, and furious tossings of the ele-
ment, which an uninstructed eye would believe menaced
inevitable destruction to an object so fragile.  But the
very lightness of the canoe had favored its descent; for,
borne on the crest of the waves, and directed by a steady
eye and an arm full of muscle, it had passed like a feather
from one pile of foam to another, scarcely permitting its
glossy side to be wetted.  There were a few rocks to be
avoided, the proper direction was to be rigidly observed,
and the fierce current did the rest. (1)

(1) Lest the reader suppose we are dealing purely in fiction, the
writer will add that he has known a long thirty-two pounder car-
ried over these same falls in perfect safety.

To say that Cap was astonished would not be expressing
half his feelings; he felt awed: for the profound dread of
rocks which most seamen entertain came in aid of his ad-
miration of the boldness of the exploit.  Still he was in-
disposed to express all he felt, lest it might be conceding
too much in favor of fresh water and inland navigation;
and no sooner had he cleared his throat with the afore-
said hem, than he loosened his tongue in the usual strain
of superiority.

"I do not gainsay your knowledge of the channel, Master
Eau-douce, and, after all, to know the channel in such a
place is the main point.  I have had cockswains with me
who could come down that shoot too, if they only knew
the channel."

"It isn't enough to know the channel," said Pathfinder;
"it needs narves and skill to keep the canoe straight, and
to keep her clear of the rocks too.  There isn't another
boatman in all this region that can shoot the Oswego, but
Eau-douce there, with any sartainty; though, now and
then, one has blundered through.  I can't do it myself
unless by means of Providence, and it needs Jasper's hand
and eye to make sure of a dry passage.  Fourteen spoon-
fuls, after all, are no great matter, though I wish it had
been but ten, seeing that the Sergeant's daughter was a
looker-on."

"And yet you conned the canoe; you told him how to
head and how to sheer."

"Human frailty, master mariner; that was a little of
white-skin natur'.  Now, had the Sarpent, yonder, been in
the boat, not a word would he have spoken or thought would
he have given to the public.  An Indian knows how to
hold his tongue; but we white folk fancy we are always
wiser than our fellows.  I'm curing myself fast of the
weakness, but it needs time to root up the tree that has
been growing more than thirty years."

"I think little of this affair, sir; nothing at all to speak
my mind freely.  It's a mere wash of spray to shooting
London Bridge which is done every day by hundreds of
persons, and often by the most delicate ladies in the land.
The king's majesty has shot the bridge in his royal person."

"Well, I want no delicate ladies or king's majesties
(God bless 'em!) in the canoe, in going over these falls;
for a boat's breath, either way, may make a drowning mat-
ter of it.  Eau-douce, we shall have to carry the Sergeant's
brother over Niagara yet, to show him what may be done
in a frontier."

"The devil!  Master Pathfinder, you must be joking
now!  Surely it is not possible for a bark canoe to go over
that mighty cataract?"

"You never were more mistaken, Master Cap, in your
life.  Nothing is easier and many is the canoe I have seen
go over it with my own eyes; and if we both live I hope
to satisfy you that the feat can be done.  For my part, I
think the largest ship that ever sailed on the ocean might
be carried over, could she once get into the rapids."

Cap did not perceive the wink which Pathfinder ex-
changed with Eau-douce, and he remained silent for some
time; for, sooth to say, he had never suspected the possi-
bility of going down Niagara, feasible as the thing must
appear to every one on a second thought, the real diffi-
culty existing in going up it.

By this time the party had reached the place where
Jasper had left his own canoe, concealed in the bushes,
and they all re-embarked; Cap, Jasper, and his niece in
one boat and Pathfinder, Arrowhead, and the wife of the
latter in the other.  The Mohican had already passed down
the banks of the river by land, looking cautiously and with
the skill of his people for the signs of an enemy.

The cheek of Mabel did not recover all its bloom until
the canoe was again in the current, down which it floated
swiftly, occasionally impelled by the paddle of Jasper.
She witnessed the descent of the falls with a degree of
terror which had rendered her mute; but her fright had
not been so great as to prevent admiration of the steadi-
ness of the youth who directed the movement from blend-
ing with the passing terror.  In truth, one much less
sensitive might have had her feelings awakened by the
cool and gallant air with which Eau-douce had accom-
plished this clever exploit.  He had stood firmly erect,
notwithstanding the plunge; and to those on the shore it
was evident that, by a timely application of his skill and
strength, the canoe had received a sheer which alone car-
ried it clear of a rock over which the boiling water was
leaping in _jets d'eau_, -- now leaving the brown stone visi-
tie, and now covering it with a limpid sheet, as if ma-
chinery controlled the play of the element.  The tongue
cannot always express what the eyes view; but Mabel saw
enough, even in that moment of fear, to blend for ever in
her mind the pictures presented by the plunging canoe
and the unmoved steersman.  She admitted that insidious
feeling which binds woman so strongly to man, by feeling
additional security in finding herself under his care; and,
for the first time since leaving Fort Stanwix, she was en-
tirely at her ease in the frail bark in which she travelled.
As the other canoe kept quite near her own, however, and
the Pathfinder, by floating at her side, was most in view,
the conversation was principally maintained with that
person; Jasper seldom speaking unless addressed, and
constantly exhibiting a weariness in the management of
his own boat, which might have been remarked by one
accustomed to his ordinarily confident, careless manner.

"We know too well a woman's gifts to think of carrying
the Sergeant's daughter over the falls," said Pathfinder,
looking at Mabel, while he addressed her uncle; "though
I've been acquainted with some of her sex that would
think but little of doing the thing."

"Mabel is faint-hearted, like her mother," returned
Cap; "and you did well, friend, to humor her weakness.
You will remember the child has never been at sea."

"No, no, it was easy to discover that; by your own fear-
lessness, any one might have seen how little you cared
about the matter.  I went over once with a raw hand, and
he jumped out of the canoe just as it tipped, and you many
judge what a time he had of it."

"What became of the poor fellow?" asked Cap, scarcely
knowing how to take the other's manner, which was so
dry, while it was so simple, that a less obtuse subject than
the old sailor might well have suspected its sincerity.
"One who has passed the place knows how to feel for
him."

"He was a _poor_ fellow, as you say; and a poor frontier
man too, though he came out to show his skill among us
ignoranters.  What became of him?  Why, he went down
the falls topsy-turvey like, as would have happened to a
court-house or a fort."

"If it should jump out of at canoe," interrupted Jasper,
smiling, thought he was evidently more disposed than his
friend to let the passage of the falls be forgotten.

"The boy is right," rejoined Pathfinder, laughing in
Mabel's face, the canoes being now so near that they almost
touched; "he is sartainly right.  But you have not told
us what you think of the leap we took?"

"It was perilous and bold," said Mabel; "while looking
at it, I could have wished that it had not been attempted,
though, now it is over, I can admire its boldness and the
steadiness with which it was made."

"Now, do not think that we did this thing to set our
selves off in female eyes.  It may be pleasant to the young
to win each other's good opinions by doing things which
may seem praiseworthy and bold; but neither Eau-douce
nor myself is of that race.  My natur' has few turns in it,
and is a straight natur'; nor would it be likely to lead me
into a vanity of this sort while out on duty.  As for Jasper,
he would sooner go over the Oswego Falls, without a looker-
on, than do it before a hundred pair of eyes.  I know the
lad well from much consorting, and I am sure he is not
boastful or vain-glorious."

Mabel rewarded the scout with a smile, which served to
keep the canoes together for some time longer; for the
sight of youth and beauty was so rare on that remote
frontier, that even the rebuked and self-mortified feelings
of this wanderer of the forest were sensibly touched by the
blooming loveliness of the girl.

"We did it for the best," Pathfinder continued; "'twas
all for the best.  Had we waited to carry the canoe across
the portage, time would have been lost, and nothinig is so
precious as time when you are mistrustful of Mingos."

"But we have little to fear now.  The canoes move
swiftly, and two hours, you have said, will carry us down
to the fort."

"It shall be a cunning Iroquois who hurts a hair of your
head, pretty one; for all here are bound to the Sergeant,
and most, I think, to yourself, to see you safe from harm.
Ha, Eau-douce! what is that in the river, at the lower
turn, yonder, beneath the bushes, -- I mean standing on
the rock?"

"'Tis the Big Serpent, Pathfinder; he is making signs
to us in a way I don't understand."

"'Tis the Sarpent, as sure as I'm a white man, and
he wishes us to drop in nearer to his shore.  Mischief is
brewing, or one of his deliberation and steadiness would
never take this trouble.  Courage, all! we are men, and
must meet devilry as becomes our color and our callings.
Ah, I never knew good come of boasting! and here, just
as I was vaunting of our safety, comes danger to give me
the lie."



CHAPTER IV

Art, stryving to compare
With nature, did an arber greene dispred,
Fram'd of wanton yvie flowing fayre,
Through which the fragrant eglantines did spred.
SPENSER.


The Oswego, below the falls, is a more rapid, unequal
stream than it is above them.  There are places where the
river flows in the quiet stillness of deep water, but many
shoals and rapids occur; and at that distant day, when
everything was in its natural state, some of the passes were
not altogether without hazard.  Very little exertion was
required on the part of those who managed the canoes,
except in those places where the swiftness of the current
and the presence of the rocks required care; then, indeed,
not only vigilance, but great coolness, readiness, and
strength of arm became necessary, in order to avoid the
dangers.  Of all this the Mohican was aware, and he had
judiciously selected a spot where the river flowed tran-
quilly to intercept the canoes, in order to make his
communication without hazard to those he wished to
speak.

The Pathfinder had no sooner recognized the form of his
red friend, than, with a strong sweep of his paddle, he
threw the head of his own canoe towards the shore, mo-
tioning for Jasper to follow.  In a minute both boats were
silently drifting down the stream, within reach of the
bushes that overhung the water, all observing a profound
silence; some from alarm, and others from habitual cau-
tion.  As the travellers drew nearer the Indian, he made a
sign for them to stop; and then he and Pathfinder had
a short but earnest conference.

"The Chief is not apt to see enemies in a dead log," ob-
served the white man to his red associate; "why does he
tell us to stop?"

"Mingos are in the woods."

"That we have believed these two days: does the chief
know it?"

The Mohican quietly held up the head of a pipe formed
of stone.

"It lay on a fresh trail that led towards the garrison,"
- for so it was the usage of that frontier to term a mili-
tary work, whether it was occupied or not.

"That may be the bowl of a pipe belonging to a soldier.
Many use the red-skin pipes."

"See," said the Big Serpent, again holding the thing he
had found up to the view of his friend.

The bowl of the pipe was of soap-stone, and was carved
with great care and with a very respectable degree of skill;
in its centre was a small Latin cross, made with an accuracy
which permitted no doubt of its meaning.

"That does foretell devilry and wickedness," said the
Pathfinder, who had all the provincial horror of the holy
symbol in question which then pervaded the country, and
which became so incorporated with its prejudices, by con-
founding men with tings, as to have left its traces strong
enough on the mroal feeling of the community to be dis-
covered even at the present hour; "no Indian who had
not been parvarted by the cunning priests of the Canadas
would dream of carving a thing like that on his pipe.  I'll
warrant ye, the knave prays to the image every time he
wishes to sarcumvent the innocent, and work his fearful
wickedness.  It looks fresh, too, Chingachgook?"

"The tobacco was burning when I found it."

"That is close work, chief.  Where was the trail?"

The Mohican pointed to a spot not a hundred yards
from that where they stood.

The matter now began to look very serious, and the two
principal guides conferred apart for several minutes, when
both ascended the bank, approached the indicated spot,
and examined the trail with the utmost care.  After this
investigation had lasted a quarter of an hour, the white
man returned alone, his red friend having disappeared in
the forest.

The ordinary expression of the countenance of the
Pathfinder was that of simplicity, integrity, and sincerity,
blended in an air of self-reliance which usually gave great
confidence to those who found themselves under his care;
but now a look of concern cast a shade over his honest
face, that struck the whole party.

"What cheer, Master Pathfinder?" demanded Cap, per-
mitting a voice that was usually deep, loud, and confident
to sink into the cautious tones that better suited the dan-
gers of the wilderness.  "Has the enemy got between us
and our port?"

"Anan?"

"Have any of these painted scaramouches anchored off
the harbor towards which we are running, with the hope
of cutting us off in entering?"

"It may be all as you say, friend Cap, but I am none
the wiser for your words; and in ticklish times the plainer
a man makes his English the easier he is understood.  I
know nothing of ports and anchors; but there is a direful
Mingo trail within a hundred yards of this very spot, and
as fresh as venison without salt.  If one of the fiery devils
has passed, so have a dozen; and, what is worse, they have
gone down towards the garrison, and not a soul crosses
the clearing around it that some of their piercing eyes will
not discover, when sartain bullets will follow."

"Cannot this said fort deliver a broadside, and clear
everything within the sweep of its hawse?"

"Nay, the forts this-a-way are not like forts in the set-
tlements, and two or three light cannon are all they have
down at the mouth of the river; and then, broadsides fired
at a dozen outlying Mingoes, lying behind logs and in a
forest, would be powder spent in vain.  We have but one
course, and that is a very nice one.  We are judgmatically
placed here, both canoes being hid by the high bank and
the bushes, from all eyes, except those of any lurker di-
rectly opposite.  Here, then, we may stay without much
present fear; but how to get the bloodthirsty devils up
the stream again?  Ha!  I have it, I have it! if it does no
good, it can do no harm.  Do you see the wide-topped
chestnut here, Jasper, at the last turn in the river -- on our
own side of the stream, I mean?"

"That near the fallen pine?"

"The very same.  Take the flint and tinder-box, creep
along the bank, and light a fire at that spot; maybe the
smoke will draw them above us.  In the meanwhile, we
will drop the canoes carefully down beyond the point
below, and find another shelter.  Bushes are plenty, and
covers are easily to be had in this region, as witness the
many ambushments."

"I will do it, Pathfinder," said Jasper, springing to the
shore.  "In ten minutes the fire shall be lighted."

"And, Eau-douce, use plenty of damp wood this time,"
half whispered the other, laughing heartily, in his own
peculiar manner; "when smoke is wanted, water helps to
thicken it."

The young man was soon off, making his way rapidly
towards the desired point.  A slight attempt of Mabel to
object to the risk was disregarded, and the party imme-
diately prepared to change its position, as it could be seen
from the place where Jasper intended to light his fire.
The movement did not require haste, and it was made
leisurely and with care.  The canoes were got clear of the
bushes, then suffered to drop down with the stream until
they reached the spot where the chestnut, at the foot of
which Jasper was to light the fire, was almost shut out
from view, when they stopped, and every eye was turned
in the direction of the adventurer.

"There goes the smoke!" exclaimed the Pathfinder, as
a current of air whirled a little column of the vapor from
the land, allowing it to rise spirally above the bed of the
river.  "A good flint, a small bit of steel, and plenty of
dry leaves makes a quick fire.  I hope Eau-douce will have
the wit to bethink him of the damp wood now when it
may serve us all a good turn."

"Too much smoke -- too much cunning," said Arrowhead
sententiously.

"That is gospel truth, Tuscarora, if the Mingoes didn't
know that they are near soldiers; but soldiers commonly
think more of their dinner at a halt than of their wisdom
and danger.  No, no; let the boy pile on his logs, and
smoke them well too; it will all be laid to the stupidity of
some Scotch or Irish blunderer, who is thinking more of
his oatmeal or his potatoes than of Indian sarcumventions
or Indian rifles."

"And yet I should think, from all we have heard in the
towns, that the soldiers on this frontier are used to the
artifices of their enemies," said Mabel, "and become
almost as wily as the red men themselves."

"Not they.  Experience makes them but little wiser;
and they wheel, and platoon, and battalion it about, here
in the forest, just as they did in their parks at home, of
which they are all so fond of talking.  One red-skin has
more cunning in his natur' than a whole regiment from
the other side of the water; that is, what I call cunning
of the woods.  But there is smoke enough, of all con-
science, and we had better drop into another cover.  The
lad has thrown the river on his fire, and there is danger
that the Mingoes will believe a whole regiment is out."

While speaking, the Pathfinder permitted his canoe to
drift away from the bush by which it had been retained,
and in a couple of minutes the bend in the river concealed
the smoke and the tree.  Fortunately a small indentation
in the shore presented itself, within a few yards of the
point they had just passed; and the two canoes glided into
it, under the impulsion of the paddles.

A better spot could not have been found for the pur-
pose.  The bushes were thick, and overhung the water,
forming a complete canopy of leaves.  There was a small
gravelly strand at the bottom of the little bay, where most
of the party landed to be more at their ease, and the only
position from which they could possibly be seen was a
point on the river directly opposite.  There was little
danger, however, of discovery from that quarter, as the
thicket there was even denser than common, and the land
beyond it was so wet and marshy as to render it difficult
to be trodden.

"This is a safe cover," said the Pathfinder, after he had
taken a scrutinizing survey of his position; "but it may
be necessary to make it safer.  Master Cap, I ask nothing
of you but silence, and a quieting of such gifts as you may
have got at sea, while the Tuscarora and I make provision
for the evil hour."

The guide then went a short distance into the bushes,
accompanied by the Indian, where the two cut off the
larger stems of several alders and other bushes, using the
utmost care not to make a noise.  The ends of these little
trees were forced into the mud, outside of the canoes, the
depth of the water being very trifling; and in the course
of ten minutes a very effectual screen was interposed be-
tween them and the principal point of danger.  Much in-
genuity and readiness were manifested in making this
simple arrangement, in which the two workmen were es-
sentially favored by the natural formation of the bank,
the indentation in the shore, the shallowness of the water,
and the manner in which the tangled bushes dipped into
the stream.  The Pathfinder had the address to look for
bushes which had curved stems, things easily found in such
a place; and by cutting them some distance beneath the
bend, and permitting the latter to touch the water, the
artificial little thicket had not the appearance of growing
in the stream, which might have excited suspicion; but
one passing it would have thought that the bushes shot
out horizontally from the bank before they inclined up-
wards towards the light.  In short, none but an unusually
distrustful eye would have been turned for an instant
towards the spot in quest of a hiding-place.

"This is the best cover I ever yet got into," said the
Pathfinder, with his quiet laugh, after having been on the
outside to reconnoitre; "the leaves of our new trees fairly
touch those of the bushes over our heads.  Hist! -- yonder
comes Eau-douce, wading, like a sensible boy, as he is, to
leave his trail in the water; and we shall soon see whether
our cover is good for anything or not."

Jasper had indeed returned from his duty above; and
missing the canoes, he at once inferred that they had
dropped round the next bend in the river, in order to get
out of sight of the fire.  His habits of caution immediately
suggested the expediency of stepping into the water, in
order that there might exist no visible communication
between the marks left on the shore by the party and the
place where he believed them to have taken refuge below.
Should the Canadian Indians return on their own trail,
and discover that made by the Pathfinder and the Serpent
in their ascent from and descent to the river, the clue to
their movements would cease at the shore, water leaving
no prints of footsteps.  The young man had therefore
waded, knee-deep, as far as the point, and was now seen
making his way slowly down the margin of the stream,
searching curiously for the spot in which the canoes were
hid.

It was in the power of those behind the bushes, by plac-
ing their eyes near the leaves, to find many places to look
through while one at a little distance lost this advantage.
To those who watched his motions from behind their
cover, and they were all in the canoes, it was evident that
Jasper was totally at a loss to imagine where the Pathfinder
had secreted himself.  When fairly round the curvature in
the shore, and out of sight of the fire he had lighted above,
the young man stopped and began examining the bank de-
liberately and with great care.  Occasionally he advanced
eight or ten paces, and then halted again, to renew the
search.  The water being much shallower than common,
he stepped aside, in order to walk with greater ease to
himself and came so near the artificial plantation that he
might have touched it with his hand.  Still he detected
nothing, and was actually passing the spot when Path-
finder made an opening beneath the branches, and called
to him in a low voice to enter.

"This is pretty well," said the Pathfinder, laughing;
"though pale-face eyes and red-skin eyes are as different
as human spy-glasses.  I would wager, with the Sergeant's
daughter here, a horn of powder against a wampum-belt
for her girdle, that her father's rijiment should march by
this embankment of ours and never find out the fraud!
But if the Mingoes actually get down into the bed of the
river where Jasper passed, I should tremble for the planta-
tion.  It will do for their eyes, even across the stream,
however, and will not be without its use."

"Don't you think, Master Pathfinder, that it would be
wisest, after all," said Cap, "to get under way at once, and
carry sail hard down stream, as soon as we are satisfied
that these rascals are fairly astern of us?  We seamen call
a stern chase a long chase."

"I wouldn't move from this spot until we hear from the
Sarpent with the Sergeant's pretty daughter here in our
company, for all the powder in the magazine of the fort
below.  Sartain captivity or sartain death would follow.
If a tender fa'n, such as the maiden we have in charge,
could thread the forest like old deer, it might, indeed, do
to quit the canoes; for by making a circuit we could reach
the garrison before morning."

"Then let it be done," said Mabel, springing to her feet
under the sudden impulse of awakened energy.  "I am
young, active, used to exercise, and could easily out-walk
my dear uncle.  Let no one think me a hindrance.  I
cannot bear that all your lives should be exposed on my
account."

"No, no, pretty one; we think you anything but a hin-
drance or anything that is unbecoming, and would will-
ingly run twice this risk to do you and the honest Ser-
geant a service.  Do I not speak your mind, Eau-
donce?"

"To do _her_ a service!" said Jasper with emphasis.
"Nothing shall tempt me to desert Mabel Dunham until
she is safe in her father's arms."

"Well said, lad; bravely and honestly said, too; and I
join in it, heart and hand.  No, no! you are not the first
of your sex I have led through the wilderness, and never
but once did any harm befall any of them: -- that was a sad
day, certainly but its like may never come again."

Mabel looked from one of her protectors to the other,
and her fine eyes swam in tears.  Frankly placing a hand
in that of each, she answered them, though at first her
voice was choked, "I have no right to expose you on my
account.  My dear father will thank you, I thank you, God
will reward you; but let there be no unnecessary risk.  I
can walk far, and have often gone miles on some girlish
fancy; why not now exert myself for my life? -- nay, for
your precious lives?"

"She is a true dove, Jasper" said the Pathfinder, neither
relinquishing the hand he held until the girl herself, in
native modesty, saw fit to withdraw it, "and wonderfully
winning!  We get to be rough, and sometimes even hard-
hearted, in the woods, Mabel; but the sight of one like
you brings us back again to our young feelings, and does
us good for the remainder of our days.  I daresay Jasper
here will tell you the same; for, like me in the forest, the
lad sees but few such as yourself on Ontario, to soften his
heart and remind him of love for his kind.  Speak out
now, Jasper, and say if it is not so?"

"I question if many like Mabel Dunham are to be found
anywhere," returned the young man gallantly, an honest
sincerity glowing in his face that spoke more eloquently
than his tongue; "you need not mention the woods and lakes
to challenge her equals, but I would go into settle-
ments and towns."

"We had better leave the canoes," Mabel hurriedly re-
joined; "for I feel it is no longer safe to be here."

"You can never do it; you can never do it.  It would
be a march of more than twenty miles, and that, too, of
tramping over brush and roots, and through swamps, in
the dark; the trail of such a party would be wide, and we
might have to fight our way into the garrison after all.
We will wait for the Mohican."

Such appearing to be the decision of him to whom all,
in their present strait, looked up for counsel, no more was
said on tbe subject.  The whole party now broke up into
groups: Arrowhead and his wife sitting apart under the
bushes, conversing in a low tone, though the man spoke
sternly, and the woman answered with the subdued mild-
ness that marks the degraded condition of a savage's wife.
Pathfinder and Cap occupied one canoe, chatting of their
different adventures by sea and land; while Jasper and
Mabel sat in the other, making greater progress in in-
timacy in a single hour than might have been effected
under other circumstances in a twelvemonth.  Notwith-
standing their situation as regards the enemy, the time
flew by swiftly, and the young people, in particular, were
astonished when Cap informed them how long they had
been thus occupied.

"If one could smoke, Master Pathfinder," observed the
old sailor, "this berth would be snug enough; for, to give
the devil his due, you have got the canoes handsomely land-
locked, and into moorings that would defy a monsoon.
The only hardship is the denial of the pipe."

"The scent of the tobacco would betray us; and where
is the use of taking all these precautions against the
Mingo's eyes, if we are to tell him where the cover is to be
found through the nose?  No, no; deny your appetites;
and learn one virtue from a red-skin, who will pass a week
without eating even, to get a single scalp.  Did you hear
nothing, Jasper?"

"The Serpent is coming."

"Then let us see if Mohican eyes are better than them
of a lad who follows the water."

The Mohican had indeed made his appearance in the
same direction as that by which Jasper had rejoined his
friends.  Instead of coming directly on, however, no sooner
did he pass the bend, where he was concealed from any
who might be higher up stream, than he moved close
under the bank; and, using the utmost caution, got a
position where he could look back, with his person suffi-
ciently concealed by the bushes to prevent its being seen
by any in that quarter.

"The Sarpent sees the knaves!" whispered Pathfinder.
"As I'm a Christian white man, they have bit at the bait,
and have ambushed the smoke!"

Here a hearty but silent laugh interrupted his words,
and nudging Cap with his elbow, they all continued to
watch the movements of Chingachgook in profound still-
ness.  The Mohican remained stationary as the rock on
which he stood full ten minutes; and then it was apparent
that something of interest had occurred within his view,
for he drew back with a hurried manner, looked anxiously
and keenly along the margin of the stream, and moved
quickly down it, taking care to lose his trail in the shallow
water.  He was evidently in a hurry and concerned, now
looking behind him, and then casting eager glances towards
every spot on the shore where he thought a canoe might
be concealed.

"Call him in," whispered Jasper, scarcely able to re-
strain his impatience, -- "call him in, or it will be too late!
See! he is actually passing us."

"Not so, not so, lad; nothing presses, depend on it;"
returned his companion, "or the Sarpent would begin to
creep.  The Lord help us and teach us wisdom!  I _do_ be-
lieve even Chingachgook, whose sight is as faithful as the
hound's scent, overlooks us, and will not find out the am-
bushment we have made!"

This exultation was untimely; for the words were no
sooner spoken than the Indian, who had actually got sev-
eral feet lower down the stream than the artificial cover,
suddenly stopped; fastened a keen-riveted glance among
the transplanted bushes; made a few hasty steps back-
ward; and, bending his body and carefully separating the
branches, he appeared among them.

"The accursed Mingos!" said Pathfinder, as soon as his
friend was near enough to be addressed with prudence.

"Iroquois," returned the sententious Indian.

"No matter, no matter; Iroquois, devil, Mingo, Meng-
wes, or furies -- all are pretty much the same.  I call all
rascals Mingos.  Come hither, chief, and let us convarse
rationally."

When their private communication was over, Pathfinder
rejoined the rest, and made them acquainted with all he
had learned.

The Mohican had followed the trail of their enemies
some distance towards the fort, until the latter caught a
sight of the smoke of Jasper's fire, when they instantly
retraced their steps.  It now became necessary for Chin-
gachgook, who ran the greatest risk of detection, to find a
cover where he could secrete bimself until the party might
pass.  It was perhaps fortunate for him that the savages
were so intent on this recent discovery, that they did not
bestow the ordinary attention on the signs of the forest.
At all events, they passed him swiftly, fifteen in number,
treading lightly in each other's footsteps; and he was en-
abled again to get into their rear.  After proceeding to
the place where the footsteps of Pathfinder and the Mohi-
can had joined the principal trail, the Iroquois had struck
off to the river, which they reached just as Jasper had dis-
appeared behind the bend below.  The smoke being now
in plain view, the savages plunged into the woods and
endeavored to approach the fire unseen.  Chingachgook
profited by this occasion to descend to the water, and to
gain the bend in the river also, which he thought had been
effected undiscovered.  Here he paused, as has been stated,
until he saw his enemies at the fire, where their stay, how-
ever, was very short.

Of the motives of the Iroquois the Mohican could judge
only by their acts.  He thought they had detected the
artifice of the fire, and were aware that it had been kindled
with a view to mislead them; for, after a hasty examina-
tion of the spot, they had separated, some plunging again
into the woods, while six or eight had followed the foot-
steps of Jasper along the shore, and come down the stream
towards the place where the canoes had landed.  What
course they might take on reaching that spot was only to
be conjectured; for the Serpent had felt the emergency
to be too pressing to delay looking for his friends any
longer.  From some indications that were to be gathered
from their gestures, however, he thought it probable that
their enemies might follow down in the margin of the
stream, but could not be certain.

As the Patlifilider related these facts to his companions,
the professional feelings of the two other white men came
uppermost, and; both naturally reverted to their habits, in
quest of the means of escape.

"Let us run out the canoes at once," said Jasper eagerly;
"the current is strong, and by using the paddles vigorously
we shall soon be beyond the reach of these scoundrels!"

"And this poor flower, that first blossomed in the clear-
ings -- shall it wither in the forest?" objected his friend,
with a poetry which he had unconsciously imbibed by his
long association with the Delawares.

"We must all die first," answered the youth, a generous
color mounting to his temples; "Mabel and Arrowhead's
wife may lie down in the canoes, while we do our duty,
like men, on our feet."

"Ay, you are active at the paddle and the oar, Eau-douce,
I will allow, but an accursed Mingo is more active at his
mischief; the canoes are swift, but a rifle bullet is swifter."

"It is the business of men, engaged as we have been by
a confiding father, to run this risk -- "

"But it is not their business to overlook prudence."

"Prudence! a man may carry his prudence so far as to
forget his courage."

The group was standing on the narrow strand, the Path-
finder leaning on his rifle, the butt of which rested on the
gravelly beach, while both his hands clasped the barrel
at the height of his own shoulders.  As Jasper threw out
this severe and unmerited imputation, the deep red of his
comrade's face maintained its hue unchanged, though the
young man perceived that the fingers grasped the iron of
the gun with the tenacity of a vice.  Here all betrayal of
emotion ceased.

"You are young and hot-headed," returned Pathfinder,
with a dignity that impressed his listeners with a keen
sense of his moral superiority; "but my life has been
passed among dangers of this sort, and my experience and
gifts are not to be mastered by the impatience of a boy.
As for courage, Jasper, I will not send back an angry and
unmeaning word to meet an angry and an unmeaning word;
for I know that you are true in your station and according
to your knowledge; but take the advice of one who faced the
Mingos when you were a child, and know that their cun-
ning is easier sarcumvented by prudence than outwitted by
foolishness."

"I ask your pardon, Pathfinder," said the repentant
Jasper, eagerly grasping the hand that the other permitted
him to seize; "I ask your pardon, humbly and sincerely.
'Twas a foolish, as well as wicked thing to hint of a man
whose heart, in a good cause, is known to be as firm as the
rocks on the lake shore."

For the first time the color deepened on the cheek of
the Pathfinder, and the solemn dignity which he had as-
sumed, under a purely natural impulse, disappeared in the
expression of the earnest simplicity inherent in all his
feelings.  He met the grasp of his young friend with a
squeeze as cordial as if no chord had jarred between them,
and a slight sternness that had gathered about his eye
disappeared in a look of natural kindness.

"'Tis well, Jasper," he answered, laughing; "I bear
no ill-will, nor shall any one on my behalf.  My natur' is
that of a white man, and that is to bear no malice.  It
might have been ticklish work to have said half as much
to the Sarpent here, though he is a Delaware, for color will
have its way -- "

A touch on his shoulder caused the speaker to cease.
Mabel was standing erect in the canoe, her light, but swell-
ing form bent forward in an attitude of graceful earnest-
ness, her finger on her lips, her head averted, her spirited
eyes riveted on an opening in the bushes, and one arm ex-
tended with a fishing-rod, the end of which had touched
the Pathfinder.  The latter bowed his head to a level with
a look-out near which he had intentionally kept himself
and then whispered to Jasper, --

"The accursed Mingos!  Stand to your arms, my men,
but lay quiet as the corpses of dead trees!"

Jasper advanced rapidly, but noiselessly, to the canoe,
and with a gentle violence induced Mabel to place herself
in such an attitude as concealed her entire body, though
it would have probably exceeded his means to induce the
girl so far to lower her head that she could not keep her
gaze fastened on their enemies.  He then took his own post
near her, with his rifle cocked and poised, in readiness to
fire.  Arrowhead and Chingachgook crawled to the cover,
and lay in wait like snakes, with their arms prepared for
service, while the wife of the former bowed her head be-
tween her knees, covered it with her calico robe, and re-
mained passive and immovable.  Cap loosened both his
pistols in their belt, but seemed quite at a loss what
course to pursue.  The Pathfinder did not stir.  He had
originally got a position where he might aim with deadly
effect through the leaves, and where he could watch the
movements of his enemies; and he was far too steady to
be disconcerted at a moment so critical.

It was truly an alarming instant.  Just as Mabel touched
the shoulder of her guide, three of the Iroquois had ap-
eared in the water, at the bend of the river, within a
hundred yards of the cover, and halted to examine the
stream below.  They were all naked to the waist, armed
for an expedition against their foes, and in their war-
paint.  It was apparent that they were undecided as to the
course they ought to pursue in order to find the fugitives.
One pointed down the river, a second up the stream, and
the third towards the opposite bank.  They evidently
doubted.



CHAPTER V

Death is here and death is there,
Death is busy everywhere.
SHELLEY


It was a breathless moment.  The only clue the fugitives
possessed to the intentions of their pursuers was in their
gestures and the indications which escaped them in the
fury of disappointment.  That a party had returned
already, on their own footsteps, by land, was pretty certain;
and all the benefit expected from the artifice of the fire
was necessarily lost.  But that consideration became of
little moment just then; for the party was menaced with
an immediate discovery by those who had kept on a level
with the river.  All the facts presented themselves clearly,
and as it might be by intuition, to the mind of Pathfinder,
who perceived the necessity of immediate decision and of
being in readiness to act in concert.  Without making any
noise, therefore, he managed to get the two Indians and
Jasper near him, when he opened his communications in
a whisper.

"We must be ready, we must be ready," he said.  "There
are but three of the scalping devils, and we are five, four
of whom may be set down as manful warriors for such a
skrimmage.  Eau-douce, do you take the fellow that is
painted like death; Chingachgook, I give you the chief;
and Arrowhead must keep his eye on the young one.  There
must be no mistake, for two bullets in the same body would
be sinful waste, with one like the Sergeant's daughter in
danger.  I shall hold myself in resarve against accident,
lest a fourth reptile appear, for one of your hands may
prove unsteady.  By no means fire until I give the word;
we must not let the crack of the rifle be heard except in
the last resort, since all the rest of the miscreants are still
within hearing.  Jasper, boy, in case of any movement
behind us on the bank, I trust to you to run out the canoe
with the Sergeant's daughter, and to pull for the garrison,
by God's leave."

The Pathfinder had no sooner given these directions
than the near approach of their enemies rendered profound
silence necessary.  The Iroquois in the river were slowly
descending the stream; keeping of necessity near the
bushes which overhung the water, while the rustling of
leaves and the snapping of twigs soon gave fearful evidence
that another party was moving along the bank, at an
equally graduated pace; and directly abreast of them.  In
consequence of the distance between the bushes planted
by the fugitives and the true shore, the two parties became
visible to each other when opposite that precise point.
Both stopped, and a conversation ensued, that may be said
to have passed directly over the heads of those who were
concealed.  Indeed, nothing sheltered the travellers but
the branches and leaves of plants, so pliant that they
yielded to every current of air, and which a puff of wind a
little stronger than common would have blown away.
Fortunately the line of sight carried the eyes of the two
parties of savages, whether they stood in the water or on
the land, above the bushes, and the leaves appeared blended
in a way to excite no suspicion.  Perhaps the very bold-
ness of the expedient alone prevented an immediate ex-
posure.  The conversation which took place was conducted
earnestly, but in guarded tones, as if those who spoke
wished to defeat the intentions of any listeners.  It was in
a dialect that both the Indian warriors beneath, as well as
the Pathfinder, understood.  Even Jasper comprehended
a portion of what was said.

"The trail is washed away by the water!" said one from
below, who stood so near the artificial cover of the fugi-
tives, that he might have been struck by the salmon-spear
that lay in the bottom of Jasper's canoe.  "Water has
washed it so clear that a Yengeese hound could not follow."

"The pale-faces have left the shore in their canoes,"
answered the speaker on the bank.

"It cannot be.  The rifles of our warriors below are
certain."

The Pathfinder gave a significant glance at Jasper, and
he clinched his teeth in order to suppress the sound of his
own breathing.

"Let my young men look as if their eyes were eagles',"
said the eldest warrior among those who were wading in
the river.  "We have been a whole moon on the war-path,
and have found but one scalp.  There is a maiden among
them, and some of our braves want wives."

Happily these words were lost on Mabel; but Jasper's
frown became deeper, and his face fiercely flushed.

The savages now ceased speaking, and the party which
was concealed heard the slow and guarded movements of
those who were on the bank, as they pushed the bushes
aside in their wary progress.  It was soon evident that
the latter had passed the cover; but the group in the water
still remained, scanning the shore with eyes that glared
through their war-paint like coals of living fire.  After a
pause of two or three minutes, these three began also to
descend the stream, though it was step by step, as men
move who look for an object that has been lost.  In this
manner they passed the artificial screen, and Pathfinder
opened his mouth in that hearty but noiseless laugh that
nature and habit had contributed to render a peculiarity
of the man.  His triumph, however, was premature; for
the last of the retiring party, just at this moment casting
a look behind him, suddenly stopped; and his fixed atti-
tude and steady gaze at once betrayed the appalling fact
that some neglected bush had awakened his suspicions.

It was perhaps fortunate for the concealed that the
warrior who manifested these fearful signs of distrust was
young, and had still a reputation to acquire.  He knew
the importance of discretion and modesty in one of his
years, and most of all did he dread the ridicule and con-
tempt that would certainly follow a false alarm.  Without
recalling any of his companions, therefore, he turned on
his own footsteps; and, while the others continued to de-
scend the river, he cautiously approached the bushes, on
which his looks were still fastened, as by a charm.  Some
of the leaves which were exposed to the sun had drooped
a little, and this slight departure from the usual natural
laws had caught the quick eyes of the Indian; for so prac-
tised and acute do the senses of the savage become, more
especially when he is on the war-path, that trifles appar-
ently of the most insignificant sort often prove to be clues
to lead him to his object.

The trifling nature of the change which had aroused the
suspicion of this youth was an additional motive for not
acquainting his companions with his discovery.  Should
he really detect anything, his glory would be the greater
for being unshared; and should he not, he might hope to
escape that derision which the young Indian so much
dreads.  Then there were the dangers of an ambush and
a surprise, to which every warrior of the woods is keenly
alive, to render his approach slow and cautious.  In con-
sequence of the delay that proceeded from these combined
causes, the two parties had descended some fifty or sixty
yards before the young savage was again near enough to
the bushes of the Pathfinder to touch them with his hand.

Notwithstanding their critical situation, the whole party
behind the cover had their eyes fastened on the working
countenance of the young Iroquois, who was agitated by
conflicting feelings.  First came the eager hope of obtain-
ing success where some of the most experienced of his tribe
had failed, and with it a degree of glory that had seldom
fallen to the share of one of his years or a brave on his
first war-path; then followed doubts, as the drooping
leaves seemed to rise again and to revive in the currents
of air; and distrust of hidden danger lent its exciting
feeling to keep the eloquent features in play.  So very
slight, however, had been the alteration produced by the
heat on the bushes of which the stems were in the water,
that when the Iroquois actually laid his hand on the
leaves, he fancied that he had been deceived.  As no man
ever distrusts strongly without using all convenient means
of satisfying his doubts, however, the young warrior cau-
tiously pushed aside the branches and advanced a step
within the hiding-place, when the forms of the concealed
party met his gaze, resembling so many breathless statues.
The low exclamation, the slight start, and the glaring eye,
were hardly seen and heard, before the arm of Chingach-
gook was raised, and the tomahawk of the Delaware de-
scended on the shaven head of his foe.  The Iroquois
raised his hands frantically, bounded backward, and fell
into the water, at a spot where the current swept the body
away, the struggling limbs still tossing and writhing in
the agony of death.  The Delaware made a vigorous but
unsuccessful attempt to seize an arm, with the hope of
securing the scalp; but the bloodstained waters whirled
down the current, carrying with them their quivering
burthen.

All this passed in less than a minute, and the events
were so sudden and unexpected, that men less accustomed
than the Pathfinder and his associates to forest warfare
would have been at a loss how to act.

"There is not a moment to lose," said Jasper, tearing
aside the bushes, as he spoke earnestly, but in a suppressed
voice.  "Do as I do, Master Cap, if you would save your
niece; and you, Mabel, lie at your length in the canoe."

The words were scarcely uttered when, seizing the bow
of the light boat he dragged it along the shore, wading
himself, while Cap aided behind, keeping so near the bank
as to avoid being seen by the savages below, and striving
to gain the turn in the river above him which would ef-
fectually conceal the party from the enemy.  The Path-
finder's canoe lay nearest to the bank, and was necessarily
the last to quit the shore.  The Delaware leaped on the nar-
row strand and plunged into the forest, it being his assigned
duty to watch the foe in that quarter, while Arrowhead
motioned to his white companion to seize the bow of the
boat and to follow Jasper.  All this was the work of an
instant; but when the Pathfinder reached the current that
was sweeping round the turn, he felt a sudden change in
the weight he was dragging, and, looking back, he found
that both the Tuscarora and his wife had deserted him.
The thought of treachery flashed upon his mind, but there
was no time to pause, for the wailing shout that arose from
the party below proclaimed that the body of the young
Iroquois had floated as low as the spot reached by his
friends.  The report of a rifle followed; and then the
guide saw that Jasper, having doubled the bend in the
river, was crossing the stream, standing erect in the stern
of the canoe, while Cap was seated forward, both propel-
ling the light boat with vigorous strokes of the paddles.
A glance, a thought, and an expedient followed each other
quickly in one so trained in the vicissitudes of the frontier
warfare.  Springing into the stern of his own canoe, he
urged it by a vigorous shove into the current, and com-
menced crossing the stream himself, at a point so much
lower than that of his companions as to offer his own
person for a target to the enemy, well knowing that their
keen desire to secure a scalp would control all other feelings.

"Keep well up the current, Jasper," shouted the gallant
guide, as he swept the water with long, steady, vigorous
strokes of the paddle; "keep well up the current, and pull
for the alder bushes opposite.  Presarve the Sergeant's
daughter before all things, and leave these Mingo knaves
to the Sarpent and me."

Jasper flourished his paddle as a signal of understand-
ing, while shot succeeded shot in quick succession, all now
being aimed at the solitary man in the nearest canoe.

"Ay, empty your rifles like simpletons as you are," said
the Pathfinder, who had acquired a habit of speaking when
alone, from passing so much of his time in the solitude of
the forest; "empty your rifles with an unsteady aim, and
give me time to put yard upon yard of river between us.
I will not revile you like a Delaware or a Mohican; for my
gifts are a white man's gifts, and not an Indian's; and
boasting in battle is no part of a Christian warrior; but I
may say here, all alone by myself, that you are little better
than so many men from the town shooting at robins in
the orchards.  That was well meant," throwing back his
head, as a rifle bullet cut a lock of hair from his temple;
"but the lead that misses by an inch is as useless as the
lead that never quits the barrel.  Bravely done, Jasper!
the Sergeant's sweet child must be saved, even if we go in
without our own scalps."

By this time the Pathfinder was in the centre of the
river, and almost abreast of his enemies, while the other
canoe, impelled by the vigorous arms of Cap and Jasper,
had nearly gained the opposite shore at the precise spot
that had been pointed out to them.  The old mariner now
played his part manfully; for he was on his proper ele-
ment, loved his niece sincerely, had a proper regard for
his own person, and was not unused to fire, though his
experience certainly lay in a very different species of
warfare.  A few strokes of the paddles were given, and
the canoe shot into the bushes, Mabel was hurried to land
by Jasper, and for the present all three of the fugitives
were safe.

Not so with the Pathfinder: his hardy self-devotion
had brought him into a situation of unusual exposure, the
hazards of which were much increased by the fact that,
just as he drifted nearest to the enemy the party on the
shore rushed down the bank and joined their friends who
still stood in the water.  The Oswego was about a cable's
length in width at this point, and, the canoe being in the
centre, the object was only a hundred yards from the rifles
that were constantly discharged at it; or, at the usual
target distance for that weapon.

In this extremity the steadiness and skill of the Path-
finder did him good service.  He knew that his safety de-
pended altogether on keeping in motion; for a stationary
object at that distance, would have been hit nearly every
shot.  Nor was motion of itself sufficient; for, accustomed
to kill the bounding deer, his enemies probably knew how
to vary the line of aim so as to strike him, should he con-
tinue to move in any one direction.  He was consequently
compelled to change the course of the canoe, -- at one mo-
ment shooting down with the current, with the swiftness
of an arrow; and at the next checking its progress in that
direction, to glance athwart the stream.  Luckily the
Iroquois could not reload their pieces in the water, and the
bushes that everywhere fringed the shore rendered it diffi-
cult to keep the fugitive in view when on the land.  Aided
by these circumstances, and having received the fire of all
his foes, the Pathfinder was gaining fast in distance, both
downwards and across the current, when a new danger
suddenly, if not unexpectedly, presented itself, by the ap-
pearance of the party that had been left in ambush below
with a view to watch the river.

These were the savages alluded to in the short dialogue
already related.  They were no less than ten in number;
and, understanding all the advantages of their bloody oc-
cupation, they had posted themselves at a spot where the
water dashed among rocks and over shallows, in a way to
form a rapid which, in the language of the country, is
called a rift.  The Pathfinder saw that, if he entered this
rift, he should be compelled to approach a point where the
Iroquois had posted themselves, for the current was irre-
sistible, and the rocks allowed no other safe passage, while
death or captivity would be the probable result of the
attempt.  All his efforts, therefore, were turned toward
reaching the western shore, the foe being all on the eastern
side of the river; but the exploit surpassed human power,
and to attempt to stem the stream would at once have so
far diminished the motion of the canoe as to render aim
certain.  In this exigency the guide came to a decision
with his usual cool promptitude, making his preparations
accordingly.  Instead of endeavoring to gain the channel,
he steered towards the shallowest part of the stream, on
reaching which he seized his rifle and pack, leaped into
the water, and began to wade from rock to rock, taking
the direction of the western shore.  The canoe whirled
about in the furious current, now rolling over some slip-
pery stone, now filling, and then emptying itself, until it
lodged on the shore, within a few yards of the spot where
the Iroquois had posted themselves.

In the meanwhile the Pathfinder was far from being out
of danger; for the first minute, admiration of his prompti-
tude and daring, which are so high virtues in the mind of
an Indian, kept his enemies motionless; but the desire of
revenge, and the cravings for the much-prized trophy,
soon overcame this transient feeling, and aroused them
from their stupor.  Rifle flashed after rifle, and the bullets
whistled around the head of the fugitive, amid the roar
of the waters.  Still he proceeded like one who bore a
charmed life; for, while his rude frontier garments were
more than once cut, his skin was not razed.

As the Pathfinder, in several instances, was compelled
to wade in water which rose nearly to his arms, while he
kept his rifle and ammunition elevated above the raging
current, the toil soon fatigued him, and he was glad to
stop at a large stone, or a small rock, which rose so high
above the river that its upper surface was dry.  On this
stone he placed his powder-horn, getting behind it him-
self, so as to have the advantage of a partial cover for his
body.  The western shore was only fifty feet distant, but
the quiet, swift, dark current that glanced through the
interval sufficiently showed that here he would be com-
pelled to swim.

A short cessation in the firing now took place on the
part of the Indians, who gathered about the canoe, and,
having found the paddles, were preparing to cross the river.

"Pathfinder," called a voice from among the bushes, at
the point nearest to the person addressed, on the western
shore.

"What would you have, Jasper?"

"Be of good heart -- friends are at hand, and not a single
Mingo shall cross without suffering for his boldness.  Had
you not better leave the rifle on the rock, and swim to us
before the rascals can get afloat?"

"A true woodsman never quits his piece while he has
any powder in his horn or a bullet in his pouch.  I have
not drawn a trigger this day, Eau-douce, and shouldn't
relish the idea of parting with those reptiles without caus-
ing them to remember my name.  A little water will not
harm my legs; and I see that blackguard, Arrowhead,
among the scamps, and wish to send him the wages he has
so faithfully earned.  You have not brought the Sergeant's
daughter down here in a range with their bullets, I hope,
Jasper?"

"She is safe for the present at least; though all depends
on our keeping tne river between us and the enemy.  They
must know our weakness now; and, should they cross, no
doubt some of their party will be left on the other side."

"This canoeing touches your gifts rather than mine,
boy, though I will handle a paddle with the best Mingo
that ever struck a salmon.  If they cross below the rift,
why can't we cross in the still water above, and keep play-
ing at dodge and turn with the wolves?"

"Because, as I have said, they will leave a party on the
other shore; and then, Pathfinder, would you expose Mabel,
to the rifles of the Iroquois?"

"The Sergeant's daughter must be saved," returned the
guide, with calm energy.  "You are right, Jasper; she
has no gift to authorize her in offering her sweet face and
tender body to a Mingo rifle.  What can be done, then?
They must be kept from crossing for an hour or two, if
possible, when we must do our best in the darkness."

"I agree with you, Pathfinder, if it can be effected; but
are we strong enough for such a purpose?"

"The Lord is with us, boy, the Lord is with us; and it
is unreasonable to suppose that one like the Sergeant's
daughter will be altogether abandoned by Providence in
such a strait.  There is not a boat between the falls and
the garrison, except these two canoes, to my sartain knowl-
edge; and I think it will go beyond red-skin gifts to cross
in the face of two rifles like these of yourn and mine.  I
will not vaunt, Jasper; but it is well known on all this
frontier that Killdeer seldom fails."

"Your skill is admitted by all, far and near, Pathfinder;
but a rifle takes time to be loaded; nor are you on the
land, aided by a good cover, where you can work to the
advantage you are used to.  If you had our canoe, might
you not pass to the shore with a dry rifle?"

"Can an eagle fly, Jasper?" returned the other, laugh-
ing in his usual manner, and looking back as he spoke.
But it would be unwise to expose yourself on the water;
for them miscreants are beginning to bethink them again
of powder and bullets."

"It can be done without any such chances.  Master Cap
has gone up to the canoe, and will cast the branch of a
tree into the river to try the current, which sets from the
point above in the direction of your rock.  See, there it
comes already; if it float fairly, you must raise your arm,
when the canoe will follow.  At all events, if the boat
should pass you, the eddy below will bring it up, and I can
recover it."

While Jasper was still speaking, the floating branch
came in sight; and, quickening its progress with the in-
creasing velocity of the current, it swept swiftly down
towards the Pathfinder, who seized it as it was passing,
and held it in the air as a sign of success.  Cap understood
the signal, and presently the canoe was launched into the
stream, with a caution and an intelligence that the habits
of the mariner had fitted him to observe.  It floated in
the same direction as the branch, and in a minute was ar-
rested by the Pathfinder.

"This has been done with a frontier man's judgment
Jasper," said the guide, laughing; "but you have your
gifts, which incline most to the water, as mine incline to
the woods.  Now let them Mingo knaves cock their rifles
and get rests, for this is the last chance they are likely to
have at a man without a cover."

"Nay, shove the canoe towards the shore, quartering the
current, and throw yourself into it as it goes off," said
Jasper eagerly.  "There is little use in running any risk."

"I love to stand up face to face with my enemies like a
man, while they set me the example," returned the Path-
finder proudly.  "I am not a red-skin born, and it is more
a white man's gifts to fight openly than to lie in ambush-
ment."

"And Mabel?"

"True, boy, true; the Sergeant's daughter must be saved;
and, as you say, foolish risks only become boys.  Think you
that you can catch the canoe where you stand?"

"There can be no doubt, if you give a vigorous push."

Pathfinder made the necessary effort; the light bark
shot across the intervening space, and Jasper seized it as
it came to land.  To secure the canoe, and to take proper
positions in the cover, occupied the friends but a moment,
when they shook hands cordially, like those who had met
after a long separation.

"Now, Jasper, we shall see if a Mingo of them all dares
cross the Oswego in the teeth of Kildeer!  You are handier
with the oar and the paddle and the sail than with the
rifle, perhaps; but you have a stout heart and a steady
hand, and them are things that count in a fight."

"Mabel will find me between her and her enemies," said
Jasper calmly.

"Yes, yes, the Sergeant's daughter must be protected.
I like you, boy, on your own account; but I like you all
the better that you think of one so feeble at a moment
when there is need of all your manhood.  See, Jasper! three
of the knaves are actually getting into the canoe!  They
must believe we have fled, or they would not surely ven-
ture so much, directly in the very face of Killdeer."

Sure enough the Iroquois did appear bent on venturing
across the stream; for, as the Pathfinder and his friends
now kept their persons strictly concealed, their enemies
began to think that the latter had taken to flight.  Such
a course was that which most white men would have fol-
lowed; but Mabel was under the care of those who were
much too well skilled in forest warfare to neglect to de-
fend the only pass that, in truth, now offered even a
probable chance for protection.

As the Pathfinder had said, three warriors were in the
canoe, two holding their rifles at a poise, as they knelt in
readiness to aim the deadly weapons, and the other stand-
ing erect in the stern to wield the paddle.  In this man-
ner they left the shore, having had the precaution to haul
the canoe, previously to entering it, so far up the stream as
to have got into the comparatively still water above the rift.
It was apparent at a glance that the savage who guided
the boat was skilled in the art; for the long steady sweep of
his paddle sent the light bark over the glassy surface of
the tranquil river as if it were a feather floating in air.

"Shall I fire?" demanded Jasper in a whisper, trem-
bling with eagerness to engage.

"Not yet, boy, not yet.  There are but three of them,
and if Master Cap yonder knows how to use the popguns
he carries in his belt, we may even let them land, and then
we shall recover the canoe."

"But Mabel -- ?"

"No fear for the Sergeant's daughter.  She is safe in
the hollow stump, you say, with the opening judgmatically
hid by the brambles.  If what you tell me of the manner
in which you concealed the trail be true, the sweet one
might lie there a month and laugh at the Mingos."

"We are never certain.  I wish we had brought her
nearer to our own cover!"

"What for, Eau-douce?  To place her pretty little head
and leaping heart among flying bullets?  No, no: she is
better where she is, because she is safer."

"We are never certain.  We thought ourselves safe be-
hind the bushes, and yet you saw that we were discovered."

"And the Mingo imp paid for his curiosity, as these
knaves are about to do."

The, Pathfinder ceased speaking; for at that instant the
sharp report of a rifle was heard, when the Indian in the
stern of the canoe leaped high into the air, and fell into
the water, holding the paddle in his hand.  A small
wreath of smoke floated out from among the bushes of the
eastern shore, and was soon absorbed by the atmosphere.

"That is the Sarpent hissing!" exclaimed the Path-
finder exultingly.  "A bolder or a truer heart never beat in
the breast of a Delaware.  I am sorry that he interfered;
but he could not have known our condition."

The canoe had no sooner lost its guide than it floated
with the stream, and was soon sucked into the rapids of the
rift. Perfectly helpless, the two remaining savages gazed
wildly about them, but could offer no resistance to the
power of the element.  It was perhaps fortunate for
Chingachgook that the attention of most of the Iroquois
was intently given to the situation of those in the boat,
else would his escape have been to the last degree difficult,
if not totally impracticable.  But not a foe moved, except
to conceal his person behind some cover; and every eye
was riveted on the two remaining adventurers.  In less
time than has been necessary to record these occurrences,
the canoe was whirling and tossing in the rift, while both
the savages had stretched themselves in its bottom, as the
only means of preserving the equilibrium.  This natural
expedient soon failed them; for, striking a rock, the light
draft rolled over, and the two warriors were thrown into
the river.  The water is seldom deep on a rift, except in
particular places where it may have worn channels; and
there was little to be apprehended from drowning, though
their arms were lost; and the two savages were fain to
make the best of their way to the friendly shore, swim-
ming and wading as circumstances required.  The canoe
itself lodged on a rock in the centre of the stream, where
for the moment it became useless to both parties.

"Now is our time, Pathfinder," cried Jasper, as the two
Iroquois exposed most of their persons while wading in
the shallowest part of the rapids: "the fellow up stream
is mine, and you can take the lower."

So excited had the young man become by all the inci-
dents of the stirring scene, that the bullet sped from his
rifle as he spoke, but uselessly, as it would seem, for both
the fugitives tossed their arms in disdain.  The Path-
finder did not fire.

"No, no, Eau-douce," he answered; "I do not seek
blood without a cause; and my bullet is well leathered
and carefully driven down, for the time of need.  I love
no Mingo, as is just, seeing how much I have consorted
with the Delawares, who are their mortal and natural
enemies; but I never pull trigger on one of the miscreants
unless it be plain that his death will lead to some good
end.  The deer never leaped that fell by my hand wan-
tonly.  By living much alone with God in the wilderness
a man gets to feel the justice of such opinions.  One life
is sufficient for our present wants; and there may yet be
occasion to use Killdeer in behalf of the Sarpent, who has
done an untimorsome thing to let them rampant devils so
plainly know that he is in their neighborhood.  As I'm a
wicked sinner, there is one of them prowling along the
bank this very moment, like one of the boys of the garrison
skulking behind a fallen tree to get a shot at a squirrel!"

As the Pathfinder pointed with his finger while speak-
ing, the quick eye of Jasper soon caught the object towards
which it was directed.  One of the young warriors of the
enemy, burning with a desire to distinguish himself, had
stolen from his party towards the cover in which Chin-
gachgook had concealed himself; and as the latter was
deceived by the apparent apathy of his foes, as well as en-
gaged in some further preparations of his own, he had
evidently obtained a position where he got a sight of the
Delaware.  This circumstance was apparent by the ar-
rangements the Iroquois was making to fire, for Chingach-
gook himself was not visible from the western side of the
river.  The rift was at a bend in the Oswego, and the sweep
of the eastern shore formed a curve so wide that Chingach-
gook was quite near to his enemies in a straight direction,
though separated by several hundred feet on the land, ow-
ing to which fact air lines brought both parties nearly
equidistant from the Pathfinder and Jasper.  The general
width of the river being a little less than two hundred
yards, such necessarily was about the distance between his
two observers and the skulking Iroquois.

"The Sarpent must be thereabouts," observed Path-
finder, who never turned his eye for an instant from the
young warrior; "and yet he must be strangely off his
guard to allow a Mingo devil to get his stand so near, with
manifest signs of bloodshed in his heart."

"See!" interrupted Jasper -- "there is the body of the
Indian the Delaware shot!  It has drifted on a rock, and
the current has forced the head and face above the water."

"Quite likely, boy, quite likely.  Human natur' is little
better than a log of driftwood, when the life that was
breathed into its nostrils is departed.  That Iroquois will
never harm any one more; but yonder skulking savage is
bent on taking the scalp of my best and most tried friend."

The Pathfinder suddenly interrupted himself by raising
his rifle, a weapon of unusual length, with admirable pre-
cision, and firing the instant it had got its level.  The
Iroquois on the opposite shore was in the act of aiming
when the fatal messenger from Killdeer arrived.  His rifle
was discharged, it is true, but it was with the muzzle in
the air, while the man himself plunged into the bushes,
quite evidently hurt, if not slain.

"The skulking reptyle brought it on himself," muttered
Pathfinder sternly, as, dropping the butt of his rifle, he
carefully commenced reloading it.  "Chingachgook and I
have consorted together since we were boys, and have fi't
in company on the Horican, the Mohawk, the Ontario,
and all the other bloody passes between the country of
the Frenchers and our own; and did the foolish knave
believe that I would stand by and see my best friend cut
off in an ambushment?"

"We have served the Sarpent as good a turn as he
served us.  Those rascals are troubled, Pathfinder, and are
falling back into their covers, since they find we can reach
them across the river."

"The shot is no great matter, Jasper, no great matter.
Ask any of the 60th, and they can tell you what Killdeer
can do, and has done, and that, too, when the bullets were
flying about our heads like hailstones.  No, no! this is no
great matter, and the unthoughtful vagabond drew it down
on himself."

"Is that a dog, or a deer, swimming towards this shore?"
Pathfinder started, for sure enough an object was cross-
ing the stream, above the rift, towards which, however, it
was gradually setting by the force of the current.  A
second look satisfied both the observers that it was a man,
and an Indian, though so concealed as at first to render it
doubtful.  Some stratagem was apprehended, and the
closest attention was given to the movements of the
stranger.

"He is pushing something before him as he swims, and
his head resembles a drifting bush," said Jasper.

"'Tis Indian devilry, boy; but Christian honesty shall
circumvent their arts."

As the man slowly approached, the observers began to
doubt the accuracy of their first impressions, and it was
only when two-thirds of the stream were passed that the
truth was really known.

"The Big Sarpent, as I live!" exclaimed Pathfinder,
looking at his companion, and laughing until the tears
came into his eyes with pure delight at the success of the
artifice.  "He has tied bushes to his head, so as to hide it,
put the horn on top, lashed the rifle to that bit of log he
is pushing before him, and has come over to join his
friends.  Ah's me!  The times and times that he and I
have cut such pranks, right in the teeth of Mingos raging
for our blood, in the great thoroughfare round and about
Ty!"

"It may not be the Serpent after all, Pathfinder; I can
see no feature that I remember."

"Feature!  Who looks for features in an Indian?  No,
no, boy; 'tis the paint that speaks, and none but a Dela-
ware would wear that paint: them are his colors, Jasper,
just as your craft on the lake wears St. George's Cross,
and the Frenchers set their tablecloths to fluttering in the
wind, with all the stains of fish-bones and venison steaks
upon them.  Now, you see the eye, lad, and it is the eye
of a chief.  But, Eau-douce, fierce as it is in battle, and
glassy as it looks from among the leaves," -- here the Path-
finder laid his fingers lightly but impressively on his com-
panion's arm, -- "I have seen it shed tears like rain.  There
is a soul and a heart under that red skin, rely on it; al-
though they are a soul and a heart with gifts different
from our own."

"No one who is acquainted with the chief ever doubted
that."

"I _know_ it," returned the other proudly, "for I have
consorted with him in sorrow and in joy: in one I have
found him a man, however stricken; in the other, a chief
who knows that the women of his tribe are the most seemly
in light merriment.  But hist!  It is too much like the
people of the settlements to pour soft speeches into an-
other's ear; and the Sarpent has keen senses.  He knows
I love him, and that I speak well of him behind his back;
but a Delaware has modesty in his inmost natur', though
he will brag like a sinner when tied to a stake."

The Serpent now reached the shore, directly in the front
of his two comrades, with whose precise position he must
have been acquainted before leaving the eastern side of
the river, and rising from the water he shook himself like
a dog, and made the usual exclamation -- "Hugh!"



CHAPTER VI.

These, as they change, Almighty Father, these,
Are but the varied God.
THOMSON.


As the chief landed he was met by the Pathfinder, who
addressed him in the language of the warrior's people:
"Was it well done, Chingachgook," said he reproachfully,
"to ambush a dozen Mingos alone?  Killdeer seldom fails
me, it is true; but the Oswego makes a distant mark, and
that miscreant showed little more than his head and
shoulders above the bushes, and an onpractysed hand and
eye might have failed.  You should have thought of this,
chief -- you should have thought of this!"

"The Great Serpent is a Mohican warrior -- he sees only
his enemies when he is on the war-path, and his fathers
have struck the Mingos from behind, since the waters
began to run."

"I know your gifts, I know your gifts, and respect them
too.  No man shall hear me complain that a red-skin ob-
sarved red-skin natur'.  But prudence as much becomes a
warrior as valor; and had not the Iroquois devils been
looking after their friends who were in the water, a hot
trail they would have made of yourn."

"What is the Delaware about to do?" exclaimed Jasper,
who observed at that moment that the chief had suddenly
left the Pathfinder and advanced to the water's edge, ap-
parently with an intention of again entering the river.
"He will not be so mad as to return to the other shore for
any trifle he may have forgotten?"

"Not he, not he;he is as prudent as he is brave, in the
main, though so forgetful of himself in the late ambush-
ment.  Hark'e, Jasper," leading the other a little aside,
just as they heard the Indian's plunge into the water, --
"hark'e, lad; Chingachgook is not a Christian white man,
like ourselves, but a Mohican chief, who has his gifts and
traditions to tell him  what he ought to do; and he who
consorts with them that are not strictly and altogether of
his own kind had better leave natur' and use to govern his
comrades.  A king's soldier will swear and he will drink,
and it is of little use to try to prevent him; a gentleman
likes his delicacies, and a lady her feathers and it does
not avail much to struggle against either; whereas an In-
dian's natur' and gifts are much stronger than these, and
no doubt were bestowed by the Lord for wise ends, though
neither you nor me can follow them in all their windings."

"What does this mean?  See, the Delaware is swimming
towards the body that is lodged on the rock?  Why does
he risk this?"

"For honor and glory and renown, as great gentlemen
quit their quiet homes beyond seas -- where, as they tell
me, heart has nothing left to wish for; that is, such hearts
as can be satisfied in a clearing -- to come hither to live on
game and fight the Frenchers."

"I understand you -- your friend has gone to secure the
scalp."

"'Tis his gift, and let him enjoy it.  We are white men,
and cannot mangle a dead enemy; but it is honor in the
eyes of a red-skin to do so.  It may seem singular to you,
Eau-douce, but I've known white men of great name and
character manifest as remarkable idees consarning their
honor, I have."

"A savage will be a savage, Pathfinder, let him keep
what company he may."

"It is well for us to say so, lad; but, as I tell you, white
honor will not always conform to reason or to the will of
God.  I have passed days thinking of these matters, out
in the silent woods, and I have come to the opinion, boy,
that, as Providence rules all things, no gift is bestowed
without some wise and reasonable end."

"The Serpent greatly exposes himself to the enemy, in
order to get his scalp!  This may lose us the day."

"Not in his mind, Jasper.  That one scalp has more
honor in it, according to the Sarpent's notions of warfare,
than a held covered with slain, that kept the hair on their
heads.  Now, there was the fine young captain of the 60th
that threw away his life in trying to bring off a three-
pounder from among the Frenchers in the last skrimmage
we had; he thought he was sarving honor; and I have
known a young ensign wrap himself up in his colors, and
go to sleep in his blood, fancying that he was lying on
something softer even than buffalo-skins."

"Yes, yes; one can understand the merit of not hauling
down an ensign."

"And these are Chingachgook's colors -- he will keep
them to show his children's children -- "  Here the Path-
finder interrupted himself, shook his head in melancholy,
and slowly added, "Ah's me! no shoot of the old Mohican
stem remains!  He has no children to delight with his
trophies; no tribe to honor by his deeds; he is a lone man
in this world, and yet he stands true to his training and
his gifts!  There is something honest and respectable in
these, you must allow, Jasper."

Here a great outcry from the Iroquois was succeeded by
the quick reports of their rifles, and so eager did the enemy
become, in the desire to drive the Delaware back from his
victim, that a dozen rushed into the river, several of whom
even advanced near a hundred feet into the foaming cur-
rent, as if they actually meditated a serious sortie.  But
Chingachgook continued unmoved, as he remained unhurt
by the missiles, accomplishing his task with the dexterity
of long habit.  Flourishing his reeking trophy, he gave
the war-whoop in its most frightful intonations, and for a
minute the arches of the silent woods and the deep vista
formed by the course of the river echoed with cries so
terrific that Mabel bowed her head in irrepressible fear,
while her uncle for a single instant actually meditated
flight.

"This surpasses all I have heard from the wretches,"
Jasper exclaimed, stopping his ears, equally in horror and
disgust.

"'Tis their music, boy; their drum and fife; their
trumpets and clarions.  No doubt they love those sounds;
for they stir up in them fierce feelings, and a desire for
blood," returned the Pathfinder, totally unmoved.  "I
thought them rather frightful when a mere youngster;
but they have become like the whistle of the whip-poor-
will or the song of the cat-bird in my ear now.  All the
screeching reptyles that could stand between the falls and
the garrison would have no effect on my narves at this
time of day.  I say it not in boasting, Jasper; for the man
that lets in cowardice through the ears must have but a
weak heart at the best; sounds and outcries being more
intended to alarm women and children than such as scout
the forest and face the foe.  I hope the Sarpent is now
satisfied, for here he comes with the scalp at his belt."

Jasper turned away his head as the Delaware rose from
the water, in pure disgust at his late errand; but the
Pathfinder regarded his friend with the philosophical in-
difference of one who had made up his mind to be indif-
ferent to things he deemed immaterial.  As the Delaware
passed deeper into the bushes with a view to wring his
trifling calico dress and to prepare his rifle for service, he
gave one glance of triumph at his companions, and then all
emotion connected with the recent exploit seemed to cease.

"Jasper," resumed the guide, "step down to the station
of Master Cap, and ask him to join us: we have little time
for a council, and yet our plans must be laid quickly, for
it will not be long before them Mingos will be plotting our
ruin."

The young man complied; and in a few minutes the
four were assembled near the shore, completely concealed
from the view of their enemies, while they kept a vigilant
watch over the proceedings of the latter, in order to con-
sult on their own future movements.

By this time the day had so far advanced as to leave but
a few minutes between the passing light and an obscurity
that promised to be even deeper than common.  The sun
had already set and the twilight of a low latitude would
soon pass into the darkness of deep night.  Most of the
hopes of the party rested on this favorable circumstance,
though it was not without its dangers also, as the very ob-
scurity which would favor their escape would be as likely
to conceal the movements of their wily enemies.

"The moment has come, men," Pathfinder commenced,
"when our plans must be coolly laid, in order that we may
act together, and with a right understanding of our errand
and gifts.  In an hour's time these woods will be as dark
as midnight; and if we are ever to gain the garrison, it
must be done under favor of this advantage.  What say
you, Master Cap? for, though none of the most experi-
enced in combats and retreats in the woods, your years
entitle you to speak first in a matter like this and in a
council."

"Well, in my judgment, all we have to do is to go on
board the canoe when it gets to be so dark the enemy's
look-outs can't see us, and run for the haven, as wind and
tide will allow."

"That is easily said, but not so easily done," returned
the guide. "We shall be more exposed in the river than
by following the woods; and then there is the Oswego rift
below us, and I am far from sartain that Jasper himself
can carry a boat safely through it in the dark.  What say
you, lad, as to your own skill and judgment?"

"I am of Master Cap's opinion about using the canoe.
Mabel is too tender to walk through swamps and among
roots of trees in such a night as this promises to be, and
then I always feel myself stouter of heart and truer of eye
when afloat than when ashore."

"Stout of heart you always be, lad, and I think tolerably
true of eye for one who has lived so much in broad sun-
shine and so little in the woods.  Ah's me! the Ontario
has no trees, or it would be a plain to delight a hunter's
heart!  As to your opinion, friends, there is much for
and much against it.  For it, it may be said water leaves
no trail -- "

"What do you call the wake?" interrupted the pertina-
cious and dogmatical Cap.

"Anan?"

"Go on," said Jasper; "Master Cap thinks he is on the
ocean -- water leaves no trail -- "

"It leaves none, Eau-douce, hereaway, though I do not
pretend to say what it may leave on the sea.  Then a
canoe is both swift and easy when it floats with the cur-
rent, and the tender limbs of the Sergeant's daughter will
be favored by its motion.  But, on the other hand, the
river will have no cover but the clouds in the heavens;
the rift is a ticklish thing for boats to venture into, even
by daylight; and it is six fairly measured miles, by water,
from this spot to the garrison.  Then a trail on land is
not easy to be found in the dark.  I am troubled, Jasper,
to say which way we ought to counsel and advise."

"If the Serpent and myself could swim into the river
and bring off the other canoe," the young sailor replied,
"it would seem to me that our safest course would be the
water."

"If, indeed! and yet it might easily be done, as soon as
it is a little darker.  Well, well, I am not sartain it will
not be the best.  Though, were we only a party of men,
it would be like a hunt to the lusty and brave to play at
hide-and-seek with yonder miscreants on the other shore.
Jasper," continued the guide, into whose character there
entered no ingredient which belonged to vain display or
theatrical effect, "will you undertake to bring in the
canoe?"

"I will undertake anything that will serve and protect
Mabel, Pathfinder."

"That is an upright feeling, and I suppose it is natur'.
The Sarpent, who is nearly naked already, can help you;
and this will be cutting off one of the means of them devils
to work their harm."

This material point being settled, the different members
of the party prepared themselves to put the project in
execution.  The shades of evening fell fast upon the forest;
and by the time all was ready for the attempt, it was found
impossible to discern objects on the opposite shore.  Time
now pressed; for Indian cunning could devise so many
expedients for passing so narrow a stream, that the Path-
finder was getting impatient to quit the spot.  While
Jasper and his companion entered the river, armed with
nothing but their knives and the Delaware's tomahawk,
observing the greatest caution not to betray their move-
ments, the guide brought Mabel from her place of conceal-
ment, and, bidding her and Cap proceed along the shore
to the foot of the rapids, he got into the canoe that
remained in his possession, in order to carry it to the same
place.

This was easily effected.  The canoe was laid against
the bank, and Mabel and her uncle entered it, taking
their seats as usual; while the Pathfinder, erect in the
stern, held by a bush, in order to prevent the swift stream
from sweeping them down its current.  Several minutes
of intense and breathless expectation followed, while they
awaited the results of the bold attempt of their comrades.

It will be understood that the two adventurers were
compelled to swim across a deep and rapid channel before
they could reach a part of the rift that admitted of wad-
ing.  This portion of the enterprise was soon effected;
and Jasper and the Serpent struck the bottom side by
side at the same instant.  Having secured firm footing,
they took hold of each other's hands, and waded slowly
and with extreme caution in the supposed direction of the
canoe.  But the darkness was already so deep that they
soon ascertained they were to be but little aided by the
sense of sight, and that their search must be conducted
on that species of instinct which enables the woodsman to
find his way when the sun is hid, no stars appear, and all
would seem chaos to one less accustomed to the mazes of
the forest.  Under these circumstances, Jasper submitted
to be guided by the Delaware, whose habits best fitted him
to take the lead.  Still it was no easy matter to wade amid
the roaring element at that hour, and retain a clear recol-
lection of the localities.  By the time they believed them-
selves to be in the centre of the stream, the two shores
were discernible merely by masses of obscurity denser than
common, the outlines against the clouds being barely dis-
tinguishable by the ragged tops of the trees.  Once or
twice the wanderers altered their course, in consequence
of unexpectedly stepping into deep water; for they knew
that the boat had lodged on the shallowest part of the rift.
In short, with this fact for their compass, Jasper and his
companion wandered about in the water for nearly a quar-
ter of an hour; and at the end of that period, which began
to appear interminable to the young man, they found
themselves apparently no nearer the object of their search
than they had been at its commencement.  Just as the
Delaware was about to stop, in order to inform his associate
that they would do well to return to the land, in order to
take a fresh departure, he saw the form of a man moving
about in the water, almost within reach of his arm.  Jas-
per was at his side, and he at once understood that the
Iroquois were engaged on the same errand as he was himself.

"Mingo!" he uttered in Jasper's ear.  "The Serpent
will show his brother how to be cunning."

The young sailor caught a glimpse of the figure at that
instant, and the startling truth also flashed on his mind.
Understanding the necessity of trusting all to the Dela-
ware chief, he kept back, while his friend moved cautiously
in the direction in which the strange form had vanished.
In another moment it was seen again, evidently moving
towards themselves.  The waters made such an uproar
that little was to be apprehended from ordinary sounds,
and the Indian, turning his bead, hastily said, "Leave it
to the cunning of the Great Serpent."

"Hugh!" exclaimed the strange savage, adding, in the
language of his people, "The canoe is found, but there
were none to help me.  Come, let us raise it from the
rock."

"Willingly," answered Chingachgook, who understood
the dialect.  "Lead; we will follow."

The stranger, unable to distinguish between voices and
accents amid the raging of the rapid, led the way in the
necessary direction; and, the two others keeping close at
his heels, all three speedily reached the canoe.  The Iro-
quois laid hold of one end, Chingacbgook placed himself
in the centre, and Jasper went to the opposite extremity,
as it was important that the stranger should not detect
the presence of a pale-face, a discovery that might be made
by the parts of the dress the young man still wore, as well
as by the general appearance of his head.

"Lift," said the Iroquois in the sententious manner of
his race; and by a trifling effort the canoe was raised from
the rock, held a moment in the air to empty it, and then
placed carefully on the water in its proper position.  All
three held it firmly, lest it should escape from their hands
under the pressure of the violent current, while the Iro-
quois, who led, of course, being at the upper end of the
boat, took the direction of the eastern shore, or towards
the spot where his friends waited his return.

As the Delaware and Jasper well knew there must be
several more of the Iroquois on the rift, from; the circum-
stance that their own appearance had occasioned no sur-
prise in the individual they had met, both felt the neces-
sity of extreme caution.  Men less bold and determined
would have thought that they were incurring too great a
risk by thus venturing into the midst of their enemies;
but these hardy borderers were unacquainted with fear,
were accustomed to hazards, and so well understood the
necessity of at least preventing their foes from getting the
boat, that they would have cheerfully encountered even
greater risks to secure their object.  So all-important to
the safety of Mabel, indeed, did Jasper deem the posses-
sion or the destruction of this canoe, that he had drawn
his knife, and stood ready to rip up the bark, in order to
render the boat temporarily unserviceable, should any-
thing occur to compel the Delaware and himself to aban-
don their prize.

In the meantime, the Iroquois, who led the way, pro-
ceeded slowly through the water in the direction of his
own party, still grasping the canoe, and dragging his re-
luctant followers in his train.  Once Chingachgook raised
his tomahawk, and was about to bury it in the brain of his
confiding and unsuspicious neighbor; but the probability
that the death-cry or the floating body might give the
alarm induced that wary chief to change his purpose.  At
the next moment he regretted this indecision, for the
three who clung to the canoe suddenly found themselves
in the ceutre of a party of no less than four others who
were in quest of it.

After the usual brief characteristic exclamations of sat-
isfaction, the savages eagerly laid hold of the canoe, for
all seemed impressed with the necessity of securing this
important boat, the one side in order to assail their foes,
and the other to secure their retreat.  The addition to the
party, however, was so unlooked-for, and so completely
gave the enemy the superiority, that for a few moments
the ingenuity and address of even the Delaware were at
fault.  The five Iroquois, who seemed perfectly to under-
stand their errand, pressed forward towards their own
shore, without pausing to converse; their object being in
truth to obtain the paddles, which they had previously
secured, and to embark three or four warriors, with all
their rifles and powder-horns, the want of which had alone
prevented their crossing the river by swimming as soon as
it was dark.

In this manner, the body of friends and foes united
reached the margin of the eastern channel, where, as in
the case of the western, the river was too deep to be waded.
Here a short pause succeeded, it being necessary to deter-
mine the manner in which the canoe was to be carried
across.  One of the four who had just reached the boat
was a chief; and the habitual deference which the Ameri-
can Indian pays to merit, experience, and station kept the
others silent until this individual had spoken.

The halt greatly added to the danger of discovering the
presence of Jasper, in particular, who, however, had the
precaution to throw the cap he wore into the bottom of
the canoe.  Being without his jacket and shirt, the outline
of his figure, in the obscurity, would now be less likely to
attract observation.  His position, too, at the stern of the
canoe a little favored his concealment, the Iroquois natur-
ally keeping their looks directed the other way.  Not so
with Chingachgook.  This warrior was literally in the
midst of his most deadly foes, and he could scarcely move
without touching one of them.  Yet he was apparently
unmoved, though he kept all his senses on the alert, in
readiness to escape, or to strike a blow at the proper mo-
ment.  By carefully abstaining from looking towards those
behind him, he lessened the chances of discovery, and
waited with the indomitable patience of an Indian for the
instant when he should be required to act.

"Let all my young men but two, one at each end of the
canoe, cross and get their arms," said the Iroquois chief.
"Let the two push over the boat."

The Indians quietly obeyed, leaving Jasper at the stern,
and the Iroquois who had found the canoe at the bow of
the light craft, Chingachgook burying himself so deep in
the river as to be passed by the others without detection.
The splashing in the water, the tossing arms, and the calls
of one to another, soon announced that the four who had
last joined the party were already swimming.  As soon as
this fact was certain, the Delaware rose, resumed his former
station, and began to think the moment for action was come.

One less habitually under self-restraint than this war-
rior would probably have now aimed his meditated blow;
but Chingachgook knew there were more Iroquois behind
him on the rift, and he was a warrior much too trained
and experienced to risk anything unnecessarily.  He suf-
fered the Indian at the bow of the canoe to push off into
the deep water, and then all three were swimming in the
direction of the eastern shore.  Instead, however, of help-
ing the canoe across the swift current, no sooner did the
Delaware and Jasper find themselves within the influence
of its greatest force than both began to swim in a way to
check their farther progress across the stream.  Nor was
this done suddenly, or in the incautious manner in which
a civilized man would have been apt to attempt the artifice,
but warily, and so gradually that the Iroquois at the bow
fancied at first he was merely struggling against the
strength of the current.  Of course, while acted on by
these opposing efforts, the canoe drifted down stream, and
in about a minute it was floating in still deeper water at
the foot of the rift.  Here, however, the Iroquois was not
slow in finding that something unusual retarded their ad-
vance, and, looking back; he first learned that he was re-
sisted by the efforts of his companions.

That second nature which grows up through habit in-
stantly told the young Iroquois that he was alone with
enemies.  Dashing the water aside, he sprang at the throat
of Chingachgook, and the two Indians, relinquishing their
hold of the canoe, seized each other like tigers.  In the
midst of the darkness of that gloomy night, and floating
in an element so dangerous to man when engaged in deadly
strife, they appeared to forget everything but their fell
animosity and their mutual desire to conquer.

Jasper had now complete command of the canoe, which
flew off like a feather impelled by the breath under the vio-
lent reaction of the struggles of the two combatants.  The
first impulse of the youth was to swim to the aid of the
Delaware, but the importance of securing the boat presented
itself with tenfold force, while he listened to the heavy
breathings of the warriors as they throttled each other,
and he proceeded as fast as possible towards the western
shore.  This he soon reached; and after a short search he
succeeded in discovering the remainder of the party and
in procuring his clothes.  A few words sufficed to explain
the situation in which he had left the Delaware and the
manner in which the canoe had been obtained.

When those who had been left behind had heard the
explanations of Jasper, a profound stillness reigned among
them, each listening intently in the vain hope of catching
some clue to the result of the fearful struggle that had
just taken place, if it were not still going on in the water.
Nothing was audible beyond the steady roar of the rush-
ing river; it being a part of the policy of their enemies on
the opposite shore to observe the most deathlike stillness.

"Take this paddle, Jasper," said Pathfinder calmly,
though the listeners thought his voice sounded more mel-
ancholy than usual, "and follow with your own canoe.  It
is unsafe for us to remain here longer."

"But the Serpent?"

"The Great Sarpent is in the hands of his own Deity,
and will live or die, according to the intentions of Provi-
dence.  We can do him no good, and may risk too much
by remaining here in idleness, like women talking over
their distresses.  This darkness is very precious."

A loud, long, piercing yell came from the shore, and cut
short the words of the guide.

"What is the meaning of that uproar, Master Path-
finder?" demanded Cap.  "It sounds more like the out-
cries of devils than anything that can come from the
throats of Christians and men."

"Christians they are not, and do not pretend to be, and
do not wish to be; and in calling them devils you have
scarcely misnamed them.  That yell is one of rejoicing,
and it is as conquerors they have given it.  The body of
tbe Sarpent, no doubt, dead or alive, is in their power.

"And we!" exclaimed Jasper, who felt a pang of gen-
erous regret, as the idea that he might have averted the
calamity presented itself to his mind, had he not deserted
his comrade.

"We can do the chief no good, lad, and must quit this
spot as fast as possible."

"Without one attempt to rescue him? -- without even
knowing whether he be dead or living?"

"Jasper is right," said Mabel, who could speak, though
her voice sounded huskily and smothered; "I have no
fears, uncle, and will stay here until we know what has
become of our friend."

"This seems reasonable, Pathfinder," put in Cap.  "Your
true seaman cannot well desert a messmate; and I am
glad to find that motives so correct exist among those
fresh-water people."

"Tut! tut!" returned the impatient guide, forcing the
canoe into the stream as he spoke; "ye know nothing and
ye fear nothing.  If ye value your lives, think of reaching
the garrison, and leave the Delaware in the hands of
Providence.  Ah's me! the deer that goes too often to the
lick meets the hunter at last!"



CHAPTER VII.

And is this -- Yarrow? -- this the stream
   Of which my fancy cherish'd
So faithfully a waking dream?
   An image that hath perish'd?
Oh that some minstrel's harp were near,
   To utter notes of gladness,
And chase this silence from the air,
   That fills my heart with sadness.
WORDSWORTH.


THE scene was not without its sublimity, and the ardent,
generous-minded Mabel felt her blood thrill in her veins
and her cheeks flush, as the canoe shot into the strength
of the stream, to quit the spot.  The darkness of the night
had lessened, by the dispersion of the clouds; but the
overhanging woods rendered the shore so obscure, that the
boats floated down the current in a belt of gloom that ef-
fectually secured them from detection.  Still, there was
necessarily a strong feeling of insecurity in all on board
them; and even Jasper, who by this time began to tremble,
in behalf of the girl, at every unusual sound that arose
from the forest, kept casting uneasy glances around him
as he drifted on in company.  The paddle was used lightly,
and only with exceeding care; for the slightest sound in
the breathing stillness of that hour and place might ap-
prise the watchful ears of the Iroquois of their position.

All these accessories added to the impressive grandeur
of her situation, and contributed to render the moment
much the most exciting which had ever occurred in the
brief existence of Mabel Dunham.  Spirited, accustomed
to self-reliance, and sustained by the pride of considering
herself a soldier's daughter, she could hardly be said to be
under the influence of fear, yet her heart often beat quicker
than common, her fine blue eye lighted with an exhibition
of a resolution that was wasted in the darkness, and her
quickened feelings came in aid of the real sublimity that
belonged to the scene and to the incidents of the night.

"Mabel!" said the suppressed voice of Jasper, as the
two canoes floated so near each other that the hand of the
young man held them together, "you have no dread? you
trust freely to our care and willingness to protect you?"

"I am a soldier's daughter, as you know, Jasper Western,
and ought to be ashamed to confess fear."

"Rely on me -- on us all.  Your uncle, Pathfinder, the
Delaware, were the poor fellow here, I myself, will risk
everything rather than harm should reach you."

"I believe you, Jasper," returned the girl, her hand un-
consciously playing in the water.  "I know that my uncle
loves me, and will never think of himself until he has first
thought of me; and I believe you are all my father's
friends, and would willingly assist his child.  But I am
not so feeble and weak-minded as you may think; for,
though only a girl from the towns, and, like most of that
class, a little disposed to see danger where there is none, I
promise you, Jasper, no foolish fears of mine shall stand
in the way of your doing your duty."

"The Sergeant's daughter is right, and she is worthy of
being honest Thomas Dunham's child," put in the Path-
finder.  "Ah's me, pretty one! many is the time that your
father and I have scouted and marched together on the
flanks and rear of the enemy, in nights darker than this,
and that, too, when we did not know but the next momemt
would lead us into a bloody ambushment.  I was at his
side when he got the wound in his shoulder; and the
honest fellow will tell you, when you meet, the manner in
which we contrived to cross the river which lay in our rear,
in order to save his scalp."

"He has told me," said Mabel, with more energy perhaps
than her situation rendered prudent.  "I have his letters,
in which he has mentioned all that, and I thank you from
the bottom of my heart for the service.  God will remem-
ber it, Pathfinder; and there is no gratitude that you can
ask of the daughter which she will not cheerfully repay
for her father's life."

"Ay, that is the way with all your gentle and pure-
hearted creatures.  I have seen some of you before, and
have heard of others.  The Sergeant himself has talked to
me of his own young days, and of your mother, and of the
manner in which he courted her, and of all the crossings
and disappointments, until he succeeded at last."

"My mother did not live long to repay him for what
he did to win her," said Mabel, with a trembling lip.

"So he tells me.  The honest Sergeant has kept nothing
back; for, being so many years my senior, he has looked
on me, in our many scoutings together, as a sort of son."

"Perhaps, Pathfinder," observed Jasper, with a huski-
ness in his voice that defeated the attempt at pleasantry,
"he would be glad to have you for one in reality."

"And if he did, Eau-douce, where would be the sin of
it?  He knows what I am on a trail or a scout, and he has
seen me often face to face with the Frenchers.  I have
sometimes thought, lad, that we all ought to seek for
wives; for the man that lives altogether in the woods, and
in company with his enemies or his prey, gets to lose some
of the feeling of kind in the end.  It is not easy to dwell
always in the presence of God and not feel the power of
His goodness.  I have attended church-sarvice in the gar-
risons, and tried hard, as becomes a true soldier, to join in
the prayers; for, though no enlisted sarvant of the king,
I fight his battles and sarve his cause, and so I have en-
deavored to worship garrison-fashion, but never could
raise within me the solemn feelings and true affection that
I feel when alone with God in the forest.  There I seem
to stand face to face with my Master; all around me is
fresh and beautiful, as it came from His hand; and there
is no nicety or doctrine to chill the feelings.  No no; the
woods are the true temple after all, for there the thoughts
are free to mount higher even than the clouds."

"You speak the truth, Master Pathfinder," said Cap,
"and a truth that all who live much in solitude know.
What, for instance, is the reason that seafaring men in
general are so religious and conscientious in all they do,
but the fact that they are so often alone with Providence,
and have so little to do with the wickedness of the land.
Many and many is the time that I have stood my watch,
under the equator perhaps, or in the Southern Ocean,
when the nights are lighted up with the fires of heaven;
and that is the time, I can tell you, my hearties, to bring
a man to his bearings in the way of his sins.  I have rattled
down mine again and again under such circumstances,
until the shrouds and lanyards of conscience have fairly
creaked with the strain.  I agree with you, Master Path-
finder, therefore, in saying, if you want a truly religious
man, go to sea, or go into the woods."

"Uncle, I thought seamen had little credit generally for
their respect for religion?"

"All d----d slander, girl; for all the essentials of Chris-
tianity the seaman beats the landsman hand-over-hand."

"I will not answer for all this, Master Cap," returned
Pathfinder; "but I daresay some of it may be true.  I
want no thunder and lightning to remind me of my God,
nor am I as apt to bethink on most of all His goodness in
trouble and tribulations as on a calm, solemn, quiet day
in a forest, when His voice is heard in the creaking of a
dead branch or in the song of a bird, as much in my ears
at least as it is ever heard in uproar and gales.  How is it
with you, Eau-douce? you face the tempests as well as
Master Cap, and ought to know something of the feelings
of storms."

"I fear that I am too young and too inexperienced to
be able to say much on such a subject," modestly answered
Jasper.

"But you have your feelings!" said Mabel quickly.  "You
cannot -- no one can live among such scenes without feel-
ing how much they ought to trust in God!"

"I shall not belie my training so much as to say I do
not sometimes think of these things, but I fear it is not so
often or so much as I ought."

"Fresh water," resumed Cap pithily; "you are not to
expect too much of the young man, Mabel.  I think they
call you sometimes by a name which would insinuate all
this: Eau-de-vie, is it not?"

"Eau-douce," quietly replied Jasper, who from sailing
on the lake had acquired a knowledge of French, as well
as of several of the Indian dialects.  "It is a name the Iro-
quois have given me to distinguish me from some of my
companions who once sailed upon the sea, and are fond
of filling the ears of the natives with stories of their great
salt-water lakes."

"And why shouldn't they?  I daresay they do the sav-
ages no harm.  Ay, ay, Eau-deuce; that must mean the
white brandy, which may well enough be called the deuce,
for deuced stuff it is!"

"The signification of Eau-douce is sweet-water, and it
is the manner in which the French express fresh-water,"
rejoined Jasper, a little nettled.

"And how the devil do they make water out of Eau-in-
deuce, when it means brandy in Eau-de-vie?  Besides,
among seamen, Eau always means brandy; and Eau-de-
vie, brandy of a high proof.  I think nothing of your ig-
norance, young man; for it is natural to your situation,
and cannot be helped.  If you will return with me, and
make a v'y'ge or two on the Atlantic, it will serve you a
good turn the remainder of your days; and Mabel there,
and all the other young women near the coast, will think
all the better of you should you live to be as old as one of
the trees in this forest."

"Nay, nay," interrupted the single-hearted and generous
guide; "Jasper wants not for friends in this region, I can
assure you; and though seeing the world, according to his
habits, may do him good as well as another, we shall think
none the worse of him if he never quits us.  Eau-douce or
Eau-de-vie, he is a brave, true-hearted youth, and I always
sleep as soundly when he is on the watch as if I was up and
stirring myself; ay, and for that matter, sounder too.
The Sergeant's daughter here doesn't believe it necessary
for the lad to go to sea in order to make a man of him,
or one who is worthy to be respected and esteemed."

Mabel made no reply to this appeal, and she even looked
towards the western shore, although the darkness rendered
the natural movements unnecessary to conceal her face.
But Jasper felt that there was a necessity for his saying
something, the pride of youth and manhood revolting at the
idea of his being in a condition not to command the re-
spect of his fellows or the smiles of his equals of the other
sex.  Still he was unwilling to utter aught that might be
considered harsh to the uncle of Mabel; and his self-
command was perhaps more creditable than his modesty
and spirit.

"I pretend not to things I don't possess," he said, "and
lay no claim to any knowledge of the ocean or of naviga-
tion.  We steer by the stars and the compass on these
lakes, running from headland to headland; and having
little need of figures and calculations, make no use of
them.  But we have our claims notwithstanding, as I have
often heard from those who have passed years on the
ocean.  In the first place, we have always the land aboard,
and much of the time on a lee-shore, and that I have fre-
quently heard makes hardy sailors.  Our gales are sudden
and severe, and we are compelled to run for our ports at
all hours."

"You have your leads," interrupted Cap.

"They are of little use, and are seldom cast."

"The deep-seas."

"I have heard of such things, but confess I never saw
one."

"Oh! deuce, with a vengeance.  A trader, and no deep-
sea!  Why, boy, you cannot pretend to be anything of a
mariner.  Who the devil ever heard of a seaman without
his deep-sea?"

"I do not pretend to any particular skill, Master Cap."

"Except in shooting falls, Jasper, except in shooting
falls and rifts," said Pathfinder, coming to the rescue;
"in which business even you, Master Cap, must allow he
has some handiness.  In my judgment, every man is to be
esteemed or condemned according to his gifts; and if
Master Cap is useless in running the Oswego Falls, I try
to remember that he is useful when out of sight of land;
and if Jasper be useless when out of sight of land, I do
not forget that he has a true eye and steady hand when
running the falls."

"But Jasper is not useless -- would not be useless when
out of sight of land," said Mabel, with a spirit and energy
that caused her clear sweet voice to be startling amid the
solemn stillness of that extraordinary scene.  "No one
can be useless there who can do so much here, is what I
mean; though, I daresay, he is not as well acquainted with
ships as my uncle."

"Ay, bolster each other up in your ignorance," returned
Cap with a sneer.  "We seamen are so much out-
numbered when ashore that it is seldom we get our dues;
but when you want to be defended, or trade is to be carried
on, there is outcry enough for us."

"But, uncle, landsmen do not come to attack our coasts;
so that seamen only meet seamen."

"So much for ignorance!  Where are all the enemies
that have landed in this country, French and English, let
me inquire, niece?"

"Sure enough, where are they?" ejaculated Pathfinder.
"None can tell better than we who dwell in the woods,
Master Cap.  I have often followed their line of march by
bones bleaching in the rain, and have found their trail by
graves, years after they and their pride had vanished to-
gether.  Generals and privates, they lay scattered through-
out the land, so many proofs of what men are when led
on by their love of great names and the wish to be more
than their fellows."

"I must say, Master Pathfinder, that you sometimes
utter opinions that are a little remarkable for a man who
lives by the rifle; seldom snuffing the air but he smells
gunpowder, or turning out of his berth but to bear down
on an enemy."

"If you think I pass my days in warfare against my
kind, you know neither me nor my history.  The man
that lives in the woods and on the frontiers must take the
chances of the things among which he dwells.  For this I
am not accountable, being but an humble and powerless
hunter and scout and guide.  My real calling is to hunt
for the army, on its marches and in times of peace; al-
though I am more especially engaged in the service of one
officer, who is now absent in the settlements, where I never
follow him.  No, no; bloodshed and warfare are not my
real gifts, but peace and mercy.  Still, I must face the
enemy as well as another; and as for a Mingo, I look upon
him as man looks on a snake, a creatur' to be put beneath
the heel whenever a fitting occasion offers."

"Well, well; I have mistaken your calling, which I had
thought as regularly warlike as that of a ship's gunner.
There is my brother-in-law, now; he has been a soldier
since he was sixteen, and he looks upon his trade as every
way as respectable as that of a seafaring man, a point I
hardly think it worth while to dispute with him."

"My father has been taught to believe that it is honor-
able to carry arms," said Mabel, "for his father was a
soldier before him."

"Yes, yes," resumed the guide; "most of the Sergeant's
gifts are martial, and he looks at most things in this world
over the barrel of his musket.  One of his notions, now,
is to prefer a king's piece to a regular, double-sighted,
long-barrelled rifle.  Such conceits will come over men
from long habit; and prejudice is, perhaps, the commonest
failing of human natur'."

While the desultory conversation just related had been
carried on in subdued voices, the canoes were dropping
slowly down with the current within the deep shadows of
the western shore, the paddles being used merely to pre-
serve the desired direction and proper positions.  The
strength of the stream varied materially, the water being
seemingly still in places, while in other reaches it flowed
at a rate exceeding two or even three miles in the hour.
On the rifts it even dashed forward with a velocity that
was appalling to the unpractised eye.  Jasper was of
opinion that they might drift down with the current to
the mouth of the river in two hours from the time they
left the shore, and he and the Pathfinder had agreed on
the expediency of suffering the canoes to float of them-
selves for a time, or at least until they had passed the first
dangers of their new movement.  The dialogue had been
carried on in voices, too, guardedly low; for though the
quiet of deep solitude reigned in that vast and nearly
boundless forest, nature was speaking with her thousand
tongues in the eloquent language of night in a wilderness.
The air sighed through ten thousand trees, the water
rippled, and at places even roared along the shores; and
now and then was heard the creaking of a branch or a
trunk, as it rubbed against some object similar to itself,
under the vibrations of a nicely balanced body.  All living
sounds had ceased.  Once, it is true, the Pathfinder fancied
he heard the howl of a distant wolf, of which a few prowled
through these woods; but it was a transient and doubtful
cry, that might possibly have been attributed to the imag-
ination.  When he desired his companions, however, to
cease talking, his vigilant ear had caught the peculiar
sound which is made by the parting of a dried branch of
a tree and which, if his senses did not deceive him, came
from the western shore.  All who are accustomed to that
particular sound will understand how reaily the ear re-
ceives it, and how easy it is to distinguish the tread which
breaks the branch from every other noise of the forest.

"There is the footstep of a man on the bank," said
Pathfinder to Jasper, speaking in neither a whisper nor
yet in a voice loud enough to be heard at any distance.
"Can the accursed Iroquois have crossed the river already,
with their arms, and without a boat?"

"It may be the Delaware.  He would follow us, of
course down this bank, and would know where to look for
us.  Let me draw closer into the shore, and reconnoitre."

"Go boy but be light with the paddle, and on no ac-
count venture ashore on an onsartainty."

"Is this prudent?" demanded Mabel, with an impetu-
osity that rendered her incautious in modulating her sweet
voice.

"Very imprudent, if you speak so loud, fair one.  I like
your voice, which is soft and pleasing, after the listening so
long to the tones of men; but it must not be heard too
much, or too freely, just now.  Your father, the honest
Sergeant, will tell you, when you meet him, that silence is
a double virtue on a trail.  Go, Jasper, and do justice to
your own character for prudence."

Ten anxious minutes succeeded the disappearance of
the canoe of Jasper, which glided away from that of the
Pathfinder so noiselessly, that it had been swallowed up in
the gloom before Mabel allowed herself to believe the
young man would really venture alone on a service which
struck her imagination as singularly dangerous.  During
this time, the party continued to float with the current,
no one speaking, and, it might almost be said, no one
breathing, so strong was the general desire to catch the
minutest sound that should come from the shore.  But
the same solemn, we might, indeed, say sublime, quiet
reigned as before; the washing of the water, as it piled up
against some slight obstruction, and the sighing of the
trees, alone interrupting the slumbers of the forest.  At
the end of the period mentioned, the snapping of dried
branches was again faintly heard, and the Pathfinder fan-
cied that the sound of smothered voices reached him.

"I may be mistaken," he said, "for the thoughts often
fancy what the heart wishes; but these were notes like
the low tones of the Delaware."

"Do the dead of the savages ever walk?" demanded Cap.
"Ay, and run too, in their happy hunting-grounds, but
nowhere else.  A red-skin finishes with the 'arth, after
the breath quits the body.  It is not one of his gifts to
linger around his wigwam when his hour has passed."

"I see some object on the water," whispered Mabel,
whose eye had not ceased to dwell on the body of gloom,
with close intensity, since the disappearance of Jasper.

"It is the canoe," returned the guide, greatly relieved.
"All must be safe, or we should have heard from the lad."

In another minute the two canoes, which became visible
to those they carried only as they drew near each other,
again floated side by side, and the form of Jasper was
recognized at the stern of his own boat.  The figure of a
second man was seated in the bow; and, as the young
sailor so wielded his paddle as to bring the face of his
companion near the eyes of the Pathfinder and Mabel,
they both recognized the person of the Delaware.

"Chingachgook -- my brother!" said the guide in the
dialect of the other's people, a tremor shaking his voice
that betrayed the strength of his feelings.  "Chief of the
Mohicans! my heart is very glad.  Often have we passed
through blood and strife together, but I was afraid it was
never to be so again."

"Hugh!  The Mingos are squaws!  Three of their scalps
hang at my girdle.  They do not know how to strike the
Great Serpent of the Delawares.  Their hearts have no
blood; and their thoughts are on their return path, across
the waters of the Great Lake."

"Have you been among them, chief? and what has be-
come of the warrior who was in the river?"

"He has turned into a fish, and lies at the bottom with
the eels!  Let his brothers bait their hooks for him.
Pathfinder, I have counted the enemy, and have touched
their rifles."

"Ah, I thought he would be venturesome!" exclaimed
the guide in English.  "The risky fellow has been in the
midst of them, and has brought us back their whole his-
tory.  Speak, Chingachgook, and I will make our friends
as knowing as ourselves."

The Delaware now related in a low earnest manner the
substance of all his discoveries, since he was last seen
struggling with his foe in the river.  Of the fate of his
antagonist he said no more, it not being usual for a warrior
to boast in his more direct and useful narratives.  As soon
as he had conquered in that fearful strife, however, he
swam to the eastern shore, landed with caution, and wound
his way in amongst the Iroquois, concealed by the dark-
ness, undetected, and, in the main, even unsuspected.
Once, indeed, he had been questioned; but answering that
he was Arrowhead, no further inquiries were made.  By
the passing remarks, he soon ascertained that the party was
out expressly to intercept Mabel and her uncle, concerning
whose rank, however, they had evidently been deceived.
He also ascertained enough to justify the suspicion that
Arrowhead had betrayed them to their enemies, for some
motive that it was not now easy to reach, as he had not
yet received the reward of his services.

Pathfinder communicated no more of this intelligence
to his companions than he thought might relieve their ap-
prehensions, intimating, at the same time, that now was
the moment for exertion, the Iroquois not having yet en-
tirely recovered from the confusion created by their
losses.

"We shall find them at the rift, I make no manner of
doubt," continued he; "and there it will be our fate to
pass them, or to fall into their hands.  The distance to
the garrison will then be so short, that I have been think-
ing of a plan of landing with Mabel myself, that I may
take her in, by some of the by-ways, and leave the canoes
to their chances in the rapids."

"It will never succeed, Pathfinder," eagerly interrupted
Jasper.  "Mabel is not strong enough to tramp the woods
in a night like this.  Put her in my skiff, and I will lose
my life, or carry her through the rift safely, dark as it is."

"No doubt you will, lad; no one doubts your willingness
to do anything to serve the Sergeant's daughter; but it
must be the eye of Providence, and not your own, that
will take you safely through the Oswego rift in a night
like this."

"And who will lead her safely to the garrison if she
land?  Is not the night as dark on shore as on the water?
or do you think I know less of my calling than you know
of yours?"

"Spiritedly said, lad; but if I should lose my way in
the dark -- and I believe no man can say truly that such a
thing ever yet happened to me -- but, if I _should_ lose my
way, no other harm would come of it than to pass a night
in the forest; whereas a false turn of the paddle, or a
broad sheer of the canoe, would put you and the young
woman into the river, out of which it is more than proba-
ble the Sergeant's daughter would never come alive."

"I will leave it to Mabel herself; I am certain that she
will feel more secure in the canoe."

"I have great confidence in you both," answered the
girl; "and have no doubts that either will do all he can
to prove to my father how much he values him; but I
confess I should not like to quit the canoe, with the cer-
tainty we have of there being enemies like those we have
seen in the forest.  But my uncle can decide for me in
this matter."

"I have no liking for the woods," said Cap, "while one
has a clear drift like this on the river.  Besides, Master
Pathfinder, to say nothing of the savages, you overlook
the sharks."

"Sharks! who ever heard of sharks in the wilderness?"

"Ay! sharks, or bears, or wolves -- no matter what you
call a thing, so it has the mind and power to bite."

"Lord, lord, man! do you dread any creatur' that is to
be found in the American forest?  A catamount is a
skeary animal, I will allow, but then it is nothing in the
hands of a practysed hunter.  Talk of the Mingos and
their devilries if you will; but do not raise a false alarm
about bears and wolves."

"Ay, ay, Master Pathfinder, this is all well enough for
you, who probably know the name of every creature you
would meet.  Use is everything, and it makes a man bold
when he might otherwise be bashful.  I have known sea-
men in the low latitudes swim for hours at a time among
sharks fifteen or twenty feet long."

"This is extraordinary!" exclaimed Jasper, who had
not yet acquired that material part of his trade, the ability
to spin a yarn.  "I have always heard that it was certain
death to venture in the water among sharks."

"I forgot to say, that the lads always took capstan-bars,
or gunners' handspikes, or crows with them, to rap the
beasts over the noses if they got to be troublesome.  No,
no, I have no liking for bears and wolves, though a whale,
in my eye, is very much the same sort of fish as a red
herring after it is dried and salted.  Mabel and I had
better stick to the canoe."

"Mabel would do well to change canoes," added Jasper.
"This of mine is empty, and even Pathfinder will allow
that my eye is surer than his own on the water."

"That I will, cheerfully, boy.  The water belongs to
your gifts, and no one will deny that you have improved
them to the utmost.  You are right enough in believing
that the Sergeant's daughter will be safer in your canoe
than in this; and though I would gladly keep her near
myself, I have her welfare too much at heart not to give
her honest advice.  Bring your canoe close alongside, Jas-
per, and I will give you what you must consider as a
precious treasure."

"I do so consider it," returned the youth, not losing a
moment in complying with the request; when Mabel
passed from one canoe to the other taking her seat on the
effects which had hitherto composed its sole cargo.

As soon as this arrangement was made, the canoes sepa-
rated a short distance, and the paddles were used, though
with great care to avoid making any noise.  The conversa-
tion gradually ceased; and as the dreaded rift was ap-
proached, all became impressed with the gravity of the
moment.  That their enemies would endeavor to reach
this point before them was almost certain; and it seemed
so little probable any one should attempt to pass it, in the
profound obscurity which reigned, that Pathfinder was
confident parties were on both sides of the river, in the
hope of intercepting them when they might land.  He
would not have made the proposal he did had he not felr
sure of his own ability to convert this very anticipation of
success into a means of defeating the plans of the Iroquois.
As the arrangement now stood, however, everything de-
pended on the skill of those who guided the canoes; for
should either hit a rock, if not split asunder, it would
almost certainly be upset, and then would come not only
all the hazards of the river itself, but, for Mabel, the cer-
tainty of falling into the hands of her persuers.  The
utmost circumspection consequently became necessary,
and each one was too much engrossed with his own
thoughts to feel a disposition to utter more than was called
for by the exigencies of the case.

At the canoes stole silently along, the roar of the rift
became audible, and it required all the fortitude of Cap to
keep his seat, while these boding sounds were approached,
amid a darkness which scarcely permitted a view of the
outlines of the wooded shore and of the gloomy vault
above his head.  He retained a vivid impression of the
falls, and his imagination was not now idle in swelling the
dangers of the rift to a level with those of the headlong
descent he had that day made, and even to increase them,
under the influence of doubt and uncertainty.  In this,
however, the old mariner was mistaken, for the Oswego
Rift and the Oswego Falls are very different in their char-
acters and violence; the former being no more than a
rapid, that glances among shallows and rocks, while the
latter really deserved the name it bore, as has been already
shown.

Mabel certainly felt distrust and apprehension; but her
entire situation was so novel, and her reliance on her guide
so great, that she retained a self-command which might
not have existed had she clearer perceptions of the truth,
or been better acquainted with the helplessness of men
when placed in opposition to the power and majesty of
Nature.

"Is that the spot you have mentioned?" she said to
Jasper, when the roar of the rift first came distinctly on
her ears.

"It is; and I beg you to have confidence in me.  We are
not old acquaintances, Mabel; but we live many days in
one, in this wilderness.  I think, already, that I have
known you years!"

"And I do not feel as if you were a stranger to me,
Jasper.  I have every reliance on your skill, as well as on
your disposition to serve me."

"We shall see, we shall see.  Pathfinder is striking the
rapids too near the centre of the river; the bed of the water
is closer to the eastern shore; but I cannot make him hear
me now.  Hold firmly to the canoe, Mabel, and fear
nothing."

At the next moment the swift current had sucked them
into the rift, and for three or four minutes the awe-struck,
rather than the alarmed, girl saw nothing around her but
sheets of glancing foam, heard nothing but the roar of
waters.  Twenty times did the canoe appear about to dash
against some curling and bright wave that showed itself
even amid that obscurity; and as often did it glide away
again unharmed, impelled by the vigorous arm of him
who governed its movements.  Once, and once only, did
Jasper seem to lose command of his frail bark, during
which brief space it fairly whirled entirely round; but by
a desperate effort he brought it again under control, re-
covered the lost channel, and was soon rewarded for all
his anxiety by finding himself floating quietly in the deep
water below the rapids, secure from every danger, and
without having taken in enough of the element to serve
for a draught.

"All is over, Mabel," the young man cried cheerfully.
"The danger is past, and you may now indeed hope to
meet your father this very night."

"God be praised!  Jasper, we shall owe this great hap-
piness to you."

"The Pathfinder may claim a full share in the merit;
but what has become of the other canoe?"

"I see something near us on the water; is it not the
boat of our friends?"

A few strokes of the paddle brought Jasper to the side
of the object in question: it was the other canoe, empty
and bottom upwards.  No sooner did the young man as-
certain this fact, than he began to search for the swimmers,
and, to his great joy, Cap was soon discovered drifting down
with the current; the old seaman preferring the chances
of drowning to those of landing among savages.  He was
hauled into the canoe, though not without difficulty, and
then the search ended; for Jasper was persuaded that the
Pathfinder, would wade to the shore, the water being shal-
low in preference to abandoning his beloved rifle.

The remainder of the passage was short, though made
amid darkness and doubt.  After a short pause, a dull
roaring sound was heard, which at times resembled the
mutterings of distant thunder, and then again brought
with it the washing of waters.  Jasper announced to his
companions that they now heard the surf of the lake.
Low curved spits of land lay before them, into the bay
formed by one of which the canoe glided, and then it shot
up noiselessly upon a gravelly beach.  The transition that
followed was so hurried and great, that Mabel scarcely
knew what passed.  In the course of a few minutes, how-
ever sentinels had been passed, a gate was opened, and
the agitated girl found herself in the arms of a parent
who was almost a stranger to her.



CHAPTER VIII.

A land of love, and a land of light,
Withouten sun, or moon, or night:
Where the river swa'd a living stream,
And the light a pure celestial beam:
The land of vision, it would seem
A still, an everlasting dream.
_Queen's Wake._


The rest that succeeds fatigue, and which attends a
newly awakened sense of security, is generally sweet and
deep.  Such was the fact with Mabel, who did not rise
from her humble pallet -- such a bed as a sergeant's
daughter might claim in a remote frontier post -- until
long after the garrison had obeyed the usual summons of
the drums, and had assembled at the morning parade.
Sergeant Dunham, on whose shoulders fell the task of
attending to these ordinary and daily duties, had got
through all his morning avocations, and was beginning to
think of his breakfast, before his child left her room, and
came into the fresh air, equally bewildered, delighted, and
grateful, at the novelty and security of her new situation.

At the time of which we are writing, Oswego was one of
the extreme frontier posts of the British possessions on this
continent.  It had not been long occupied, and was garri-
soned by a battalion of a regiment which had been origin-
ally Scotch, but into which many Americans had been re-
ceived since its arrival in this country; all innovation that
had led the way to Mabel's father filling the humble but
responsible situation of the oldest sergeant.  A few young
officers also, who were natives of the colonies, were to be
found in the corps.  The fort itself, like most works of
that character, was better adapted to resist an attack of
savages than to withstand a regular siege; but the great
difficulty of transporting heavy artillery and other neces-
saries rendered the occurrence of the latter a probability
so remote as scarcely to enter into the estimate of the en-
gineers who had planned the defences.  There were bas-
tions of earth and logs, a dry ditch, a stockade, a parade
of considerable extent, and barracks of logs, that answered
the double purpose of dwellings and fortifications.  A few
light fleld-pieces stood in the area of the fort, ready to be
conveyed to any point where they might be wanted, and
one or two heavy iron guns looked out from the summits
of the advanced angles, as so many admonitions to the
audacious to respect their power.

When Mabel, quitting the convenient, but compara-
tively retired hut where her father had been permitted to
place her, issued into the pure air of the morning, she
found herself at the foot of a bastion, which lay invitingly
before her, with a promise of giving a _coup d'oeil_ of all
that had been concealed in the darkness of the preceding
night.  Tripping up the grassy ascent, the light-hearted
as well as light-footed girl found herself at once on a point
where the sight, at a few varying glances, could take in all
the external novelties of her new situation.

To the southward lay the forest, through which she had
been journeying so many weary days, and which had proved
so full of dangers.  It was separated from the stockade by
a belt of open land, that had been principally cleared of
its woods to form the martial constructions around her.
This glacis, for such in fact was its military uses, might
have covered a hundred acres; but with it every sign of
civilization ceased.  All beyond was forest; that dense,
interminable forest which Mabel could now picture to
herself, through her recollections, with its hidden glassy
lakes, its dark rolling stream, and its world of nature.

Turning from this view, our heroine felt her cheek
fanned by a fresh and grateful breeze, such as she had not
experienced since quitting the far distant coast.  Here a
new scene presented itself: although expected, it was not
without a start, and a low exclamation indicative of pleas-
ure, that the eager eyes of the girl drank in its beauties.  To
the north, and east, and west, in every direction, in short,
over one entire half of the novel panorama, lay a field of
rolling waters.  The element was neither of that glassy
green which distinguishes the American waters in general,
nor yet of the deep blue of the ocean, the color being of a
slightly amber hue, which scarcely affected its limpidity.
No land was to be seen, with the exception of the adjacent
coast, which stretched to the right and left in an unbroken
outline of forest with wide bays and low headlands or
points; still, much of the shore was rocky, and into its
caverns the sluggish waters occasionally rolled, producing
a hollow sound, which resembled the concussions of a dis-
tant gun.  No sail whitened the surface, no whale or other
fish gambolled on its bosom, no sign of use or service re-
warded the longest and most minute gaze at its boundless
expanse.  It was a scene, on one side, of apparently end-
less forests, while a waste of seemingly interminable water
spread itself on the other.  Nature appeared to have de-
lighted in producing grand effects, by setting two of her
principal agents in bold relief to each other, neglecting de-
tails; the eye turning from the broad carpet of leaves to
the still broader field of fluid, from the endless but
gentle heavings of the lake to the holy calm and poetical
solitude of the forest, with wonder and delight.

Mabel Dunham, though unsophisticated, like most of
her countrywomen of that period, and ingenuous and
frank as any warm-hearted and sincere-minded girl well
could be, was not altogether without a feeling for the
poetry of this beautiful earth of ours.  Although she could
scarcely be said to be educated at all, for few of her sex
at that day and in this country received much more than
the rudiments of plain English instruction, still she had
been taught much more than was usual for young women
in her own station in life; and, in one sense certainly, she
did credit to her teaching.  The widow of a field-officer,
who formerly belonged to the same regiment as her father,
had taken the child in charge at the death of its mother;
and under the care of this lady Mabel had acquired some
tastes and many ideas which otherwise might always have
remained strangers to her.  Her situation in the family
had been less that of a domestic than of a humble com-
panion, and the results were quite apparent in her attire,
her language, her sentiments, and even in her feelings,
though neither, perhaps, rose to the level of those which
would properly characterize a lady.  She had lost the less
refined habits and manners of one in her original position,
without having quite reached a point that disqualified her
for the situation in life that the accidents of birth and
fortune would probably compel her to fill.  All else that
was distinctive and peculiar in her belonged to natural
character.

With such antecedents it will occasion the reader no
wonder if he learns that Mabel viewed the novel scene
before her with a pleasure far superior to that produced
by vulgar surprise.  She felt its ordinary beauties as most
would have felt them, but she had also a feeling for its
sublimity -- for that softened solitude, that calm grandeur,
and eloquent repose, which ever pervades broad views of
natural objects yet undisturbed by the labors and strug-
gles of man.

"How beautiful!" she exclaimed, unconscious of speak-
ing, as she stood on the solitary bastion, facing the air
from the lake, and experiencing the genial influence of
its freshness pervading both her body and her mind.
"How very beautiful! and yet how singular!"

The words, and the train of her ideas, were interrupted
by a touch of a finger on her shoulder, and turning, in the
expectation of seeing her father, Mabel found Pathfinder
at her side.  He was leaning quietly on his long rifle, and
laughing in his quiet manner, while, with an outstretched
arm, he swept over the whole panorama of land and water.

"Here you have both our domains," said he, -- "Jasper's
and mine.  The lake is for him, and the woods are for
me.  The lad sometimes boasts of the breadth of his
dominions; but I tell him my trees make as broad a
plain on the face of this 'arth as all his water.  Well,
Mabel, you are fit for either; for I do not see that fear of
the Mingos, or night-marches, can destroy your pretty
looks."

"It is a new character for the Pathfinder to appear in,
to compliment a silly girl."

"Not silly, Mabel; no, not in the least silly.  The Ser-
geant's daughter would do discredit to her worthy father,
were she to do or say anything that could be called silly."

"Then she must take care and not put too much faith in
treacherous, flattering words.  But, Pathfinder, I rejoice to
see you among us again; for, though Jasper did not seem
to feel much uneasiness, I was afraid some accident might
have happened to you and your friend on that frightful
rift."

"The lad knows us both, and was sartain that we
should not drown, which is scarcely one of my gifts.  It
would have been hard swimming of a sartainty, with a
long-barrelled rifle in the hand; and what between the
game, and the savages and the French, Killdeer and I
have gone through too much in company to part very
easily.  No, no; we waded ashore, the rift being shallow
enough for that with small exceptions, and we landed with
our arms in our hands.  We had to take our time for it,
on account of the Iroquois, I will own; but, as soon as the
skulking vagabonds saw the lights that the Sergeant sent
down to your canoe, we well understood they would
decamp, since a visit might have been expected from some
of the garrison.  So it was only sitting patiently on the
stones for an hour, and all the danger was over.  Patience
is the greatest of virtues in a woodsman."

"I rejoice to hear this, for fatigue itself could scarcely
make me sleep, for thinking of what might befall you."

"Lord bless your tender little heart, Mabel! but this is
the way with all you gentle ones.  I must say, on my part,
however, that I was right glad to see the lanterns come
down to the waterside, which I knew to be a sure sign of
_your_ safety.  We hunters and guides are rude beings; but
we have our feelings and our idees, as well as any general
in the army.  Both Jasper and I would have died before
you should have come to harm -- we would."

"I thank you for all you did for me, Pathfinder; from
the bottom of my heart, I thank you; and, depend on it,
my father shall know it.  I have already told him much,
but have still a duty to perform on this subject."

"Tush, Mabel!  The Sergeant knows what the woods
be, and what men -- true red men -- be, too.  There is lit-
tle need to tell him anything about it.  Well, now you
have met your father, do you find the honest old soldier
the sort of person you expected to find ?"

"He is my own dear father, and received me as a soldier
and a father should receive a child.  Have you known him
long, Pathfinder?"

"That is as people count time.  I was just twelve when
the Sergeant took me on my first scouting, and that is
now more than twenty years ago.  We had a tramping time
of it; and, as it was before your day, you would have had
no father, had not the rifle been one of my natural gifts."

"Explain yourself."

"It is too simple for many words.  We were ambushed,
and the Sergeant got a bad hurt, and would have lost his
scalp, but for a sort of inbred turn I took to the weapon.
We brought him off, however, and a handsomer head of
hair, for his time of life, is not to be found in the rijiment
than the Sergeant carries about with him this blessed day."

"You saved my father's life, Pathfinder!" exclaimed
Mabel, unconsciously, though warmly, taking one of his
hard, sinewy hands into both her own.  "God bless you
for this, too, among your other good acts!"

"Nay, I did not say that much, though I believe I did
save his scalp.  A man might live without a scalp, and so
I cannot say I saved his life.  Jasper may say that much
consarning you; for without his eye and arm the canoe
would never have passed the rift in safety on a night like
the last.  The gifts of the lad are for the water, while
mine are for the hunt and the trail.  He is yonder, in the
cove there, looking after the canoes, and keeping his eye
on his beloved little craft.  To my eye, there is no likelier
youth in these parts than Jasper Western."

For the first time since she had left her room, Mabel
now turned her eyes beneath her, and got a view of what
might be called the foreground of the remarkable picture
she had been studying with so much pleasure.  The
Oswego threw its dark waters into the lake, between banks
of some height; that on its eastern side being bolder and
projecting farther north than that on its western.  The
fort was on the latter, and immediately beneath it were a
few huts of logs, which, as they could not interfere with
the defence of the place, had been erected along the strand
for the purpose of receiving and containing such stores as
were landed, or were intended to be embarked, in the
communications between the different ports on the shores
of Ontario.  Two low, curved, gravelly points had been
formed with surprising regularity by the counteracting
forces of the northerly winds and the swift current, and,
inclining from the storms of the lake, formed two coves
within the river: that on the western side was the most
deeply indented; and, as it also had the most water, it
formed a sort of picturesque little port for the post.  It
was along the narrow strand that lay between the low
height of the fort and the water of this cove, that the rude
buildings just mentioned had been erected.

Several skiffs, bateaux, and canoes were hauled up on
the shore, and in the cove itself lay the little craft from
which Jasper obtained his claim to be considered a sailor.
She was cutter-rigged, might have been of forty tons bur-
then, was so neatly constructed and painted as to have
something of the air of a vessel of war, though entirely
without quarters, and rigged and sparred with so scrupu-
lous a regard to proportions and beauty, as well as fitness
and judgment, as to give her an appearance that even
Mabel at once distinguished to be gallant and trim.  Her
mould was admirable, for a wright of great skill had sent
her drafts from England, at the express request of the
officer who had caused her to be constructed; her paint
dark, warlike, and neat; and the long coach-whip pennant
that she wore at once proclaimed her to be the property
of the king.  Her name was the _Scud_.

"That, then, is the vessel of Jasper!" said Mabel, who
associated the master of the little craft very naturally with
the cutter itself.  "Are there many others on this lake?"

"The Frenchers have three: one of which, they tell me,
is a real ship, such as are used on the ocean; another a
brig; and a third is a cutter, like the _Scud_ here, which
they call the _Squirrel_, in their own tongue, however; and
which seems to have a natural hatred of our own pretty
boat, for Jasper seldom goes out that the _Squirrel_ is not
at his heels."

"And is Jasper one to run from a Frenchman, though
he appears in the shape of a squirrel, and that, too, on the
water?"

"Of what use would valor be without the means of
turning it to account?  Jasper is a brave boy, as all on this
frontier know; but he has no gun except a little howitzer,
and then his crew consists only of two men besides him-
self, and a boy.  I was with him in one of his trampooses,
and the youngster was risky enough, for he brought us
so near the enemy that rifles began to talk; but the
Frenchers carry cannon and ports, and never show their
faces outside of Frontenac, without having some twenty
men, besides their _Squirrel_, in their cutter.  No, no; this
_Scud_ was built for flying, and the major says he will not
put her in a fighting humor by giving her men and arms,
lest she should take him at his word, and get her wings
clipped.  I know little of these things, for my gifts are
not at all in that way; but I see the reason of the thing --
I see its reason, though Jasper does not."

"Ah! here is my uncle, none the worse for his swim,
coming to look at this inland sea."

Sure enough, Cap, who had announced his approach by
a couple of lusty hems, now made his appearance on the
bastion, where, after nodding to his neice and her com-
panion, he made a deliberate survey of the expanse of
water before him.  In order to effect this at his ease, the
mariner mounted on one of the old iron guns, folded his
arms across his breast, and balanced his body, as if he felt
the motion of a vessel.  To complete the picture, he had
a short pipe in his mouth.

"Well, Master Cap," asked the Pathfinder innocently, for
he did not detect the expression of contempt that was
gradually settling on the features of the other; "is it not
a beautiful sheet, and fit to be named a sea?"

"This, then, is what you call your lake?" demanded
Cap, sweeping the northern horizon with his pipe.  "I
say, is this really your lake?"

"Sartain; and, if the judgment of one who has lived on
the shores of many others can be taken, a very good lake
it is."

"Just as I expected.  A pond in dimensions, and a
scuttle-butt in taste.  It is all in vain to travel inland, in
the hope of seeing anything either full-grown or useful.
I knew it would turn out just in this way."

"What is the matter-with Ontario, Master Cap?  It is
large, and fair to look at, and pleasant enough to drink,
for those who can't get at the water of the springs."

"Do you call this large?" asked Cap, again sweeping
the air with the pipe.  "I will just ask you what there is
large about it?  Didn't Jasper himself confess that it was
only some twenty leagues from shore to shore?"

"But, uncle," interposed Mabel, "no land is to be seen,
except here on our own coast.  To me it koks exactly like
the ocean."

"This bit of a pond look like the ocean!  Well, Magnet,
that from a girl who has had real seamen in her family is
downright nonsense.  What is there about it, pray, that
has even the outline of a sea on it?"

"Why, there is water -- water -- water -- nothing but
water, for miles on miles -- far as the eye can see."

"And isn't there water -- water -- water -- nothing but
water for miles on miles in your rivers, that you have been
canoeing through, too? -- ay, and 'as far as the eye can see,'
in the bargain?"

"Yes, uncle, but the rivers have their banks, and there
are trees along them, and they are narrow."

"And isn't this a bank where we stand? don't these
soldiers call this the bank of the lake? and aren't there
trees in thousands? and aren't twenty leagues narrow
enough of all conscience?  Who the devil ever heard of
the banks of the ocean, unless it might be the banks that
are under water?"

"But, uncle, we cannot see across this lake, as we can
see across a river."

"There you are out, Magnet.  Aren't the Amazon and
Oronoco and La Plata rivers, and can you see across them?
Hark'e Pathfinder, I very much doubt if this stripe of
water here be even a lake; for to me it appears to be only
a river.  You are by no means particular about your
geography, I find, up here in the woods."

"There _you_ are out, Master Cap.  There is a river, and
a noble one too, at each end of it; but this is old Ontario
before you; and, though it is not my gift to live on a lake,
to my judgment there are few better than this."

"And, uncle, if we stood on the beach at Rockaway,
what more should we see than we now behold?  There is
a shore on one side, or banks there, and trees too, as well
as those which are here."

"This is perverseness, Magnet, and young girls should
steer clear of anything like obstinacy.  In the first place,
the ocean has coasts, but no banks, except the Grand
Banks, as I tell you, which are out of sight of land; and
you will not pretend that this bank is out of sight of
land, or even under water?"

As Mabel could not very plausibly set up this extrava-
gant opinion, Cap pursued the subject, his countenance
beginning to discover the triumph of a successful dis-
putant.

"And then them trees bear no comparison to these
trees.  The coasts of the ocean have farms and cities and
country-seats, and, in some parts of the world, castles and
monasteries and lighthouses -- ay, ay -- lighthouses, in
particular, on them; not one of all which things is to be
seen here.  No, no, Master Pathfinder; I never heard of
an ocean that hadn't more or less lighthouses on it;
whereas, hereaway there is not even a beacon."

"There is what is better, there is what is better; a forest
and noble trees, a fit temple of God."

"Ay, your forest may do for a lake; but of what use
would an ocean be if the earth all around it were forest?
Ships would be unnecessary, as timber might be floated in
rafts, and there would be an end of trade, and what would
a world be without trade?  I am of that philosopher's
opinion who says human nature was invented for the pur-
poses of trade.  Magnet, I am astonished that you should
think this water even looks like sea-water!  Now, I dare-
say that there isn't such a thing as a whale in all your
lake, Master Pathfinder?"

"I never heard of one, I will confess; but I am no judge
of animals that live in the water, unless it be the fishes of
the rivers and the brooks."

"Nor a grampus, nor a porpoise even? not so much as
a poor devil of a shark?"

"I will not take it on myself to say there is either.  My
gifts are not in that way, I tell you, Master Cap."

"Nor herring, nor albatross, nor flying-fish?" continued
Cap, who kept his eye fastened on the guide, in order to
see how far he might venture.  "No such thing as a fish
that can fly, I daresay?"

"A fish that can fly!  Master Cap, Master Cap, do not
think, because we are mere borderers, that we have no
idees of natur', and what she has been pleased to do.  I
know there are squirrels that can fly -- "

"A squirrel fly! -- the devil, Master Pathfinder!  Do you
suppose that you have got a boy on his first v'y'ge up here
among you?"

"I know nothing of your v'y'ges, Master Cap, though I
suppose them to have been many; for as for what belongs
to natur' in the woods, what I have seen I may tell, and
not fear the face of man."

"And do you wish me to understand that you have seen
a squirrel fly?"

"If you wish to understand the power of God, Master
Cap, you will do well to believe that, and many other
things of a like natur', for you may be quite sartain it is
true."

"And yet, Pathfinder," said Mabel, looking so prettily
and sweetly even while she played with the guide's in-
firmity, that he forgave her in his heart, "you, who speak
so reverently of the power of the Deity, appear to doubt
that a fish can fly."

"I have not said it, I have not said it; and if Master
Cap is ready to testify to the fact, unlikely as it seems, I
am willing to try to think it true.  I think it every man's
duty to believe in the power of God, however difficult it
may be."

"And why isn't my fish as likely to have wings as your
squirrel?" demanded Cap, with more logic than was his
wont.  "That fishes do and can fly is as true as it is rea-
sonable."

"Nay, that is the only difficulty in believing the story,"
rejoined the guide.  "It seems unreasonable to give an
animal that lives in the water wings, which seemingly can
be of no use to it."

"And do you suppose that the fishes are such asses as to
fly about under water, when they are once fairly fitted out
with wings?"

"Nay, I know nothing of the matter; but that fish
should fly in the air seems more contrary to natur' still,
than that the'y should fly in their own element -- that in
which they were born and brought up, as one might say."

"So much for contracted ideas, Magnet.  The fish fly
out of water to run away from their enemies in the water;
and there you see not only the fact, but the reason for it."

"Then I suppose it must be true," said the guide quietly.
"How long are their flights?"

"Not quite as far as those of pigeons, perhaps; but far
enough to make an offing.  As for those squirrels of yours,
we'll say no more about them, friend Pathfinder, as I sup-
pose they were mentioned just as a make-weight to the
fish, in favor of the woods.  But what is this thing an-
chored here under the hill?"

"That is the cutter of Jasper, uncle," said Mabel hur-
riedly; "and a very pretty vessel I think it is.  Its name,
too, is the _Scud_."

"Ay, it will do well enough for a lake, perhaps, but it's
no great affair.  The lad has got a standing bowsprit, and
who ever saw a cutter with a standing bowsprit before?"

"But may there not be some good reason for it, on a
lake like this, uncle?"

"Sure enough -- I must remember this is not the ocean,
though it does look so much like it."

"Ah, uncle! then Ontario does look like the ocean, after
all?"

"In your eyes, I mean, and those of Pathfinder; not in
the least in mine, Magnet.  Now you might set me down
out yonder, in the middle of this bit of a pond, and that,
too, in the darkest night that ever fell from the heavens,
and in the smallest canoe, and I could tell you it was only
a lake.  For that matter, the _Dorothy_" (the name of his
vessel) "would find it out as quick as I could myself.  I
do not believe that brig would make more than a couple
of short stretches, at the most, before she would perceive
the difference between Ontario and the old Atlantic.  I
once took her down into one of the large South American
bays, and she behaved herself as awkwardly as a booby
would in a church with the congregation in a hurry.  And
Jasper sails that boat?  I must have a cruise with the lad,
Magnet, before I quit you, just for the name of the thing.
It would never do to say I got in sight of this pond, and
went away without taking a trip on it."

"Well well, you needn't wait long for that," returned
Pathfinder; "for the Sergeant is about to embark with a
party to relieve a post among the Thousand Islands; and
as I heard him say he intended that Mabel should go along,
you can join the company too."

"Is this true, Magnet?"

"I believe it is," returned the girl, a flush so imper-
ceptible as to escape the observation of her companions
glowing on her cheeks; "though I have had so little op-
portunity to talk with my dear father that I am not quite
certain.  Here he comes, however, and you can inquire of
himself."

Notwithstanding his humble rank, there was something
in the mien and character of Sergeant Dunham that com-
manded respect: of a tall, imposing figure, grave and
saturnine disposition, and accurate and precise in his acts
and manner of thinking, even Cap, dogmatical and super-
cilious as he usually was with landsmen, did not presume
to take the same liberties with the old soldier as he did
with his other friends.  It was often remarked that Ser-
geant Dunham received more true respect from Duncan
of Lundie, the Scotch laird who commanded the post, than
most of the subalterns; for experience and tried services
were of quite as much value in the eyes of the veteran
major as birth and money.  While the Sergeant never even
hoped to rise any higher, he so far respected himself and
his present station as always to act in a way to command
attention; and the habit of mixing so much with inferiors,
whose passions and dispositions he felt it necessary to re-
strain by distance and dignity, had so far colored his whole
deportment, that few were altogether free from its influ-
ence.  While the captains treated him kindly and as an
old comrade, the lieutenants seldom ventured to dissent
from his military opinions; and the ensigns, it was remarked,
actually manifested a species of respect that amounted to
something very like deference.  It is no wonder, then,
that the announcement of Mabel put a sudden termina-
tion to the singular dialogue we have just related, though
it had been often observed that the Pathfinder was the
only  man on that  frontier, beneath the condition of a
gentleman, who presumed to treat the Sergeant at all as
an equal, or even with the cordial familiarity of a friend.

"Good morrow, brother Cap," said the Sergeant giving
the military salute, as he walked, in a grave, stately man-
ner, on the bastion.  "My morning duty has made me
seem forgetful of you and Mabel; but we have now an
hour or two to spare, and to get acquainted.  Do you not
perceive, brother, a strong likeness on the girl to her we
have so long lost?"

"Mabel is the image of her mother, Sergeant, as I have
always said, with a little of your firmer figure; though,
for that matter, the Caps were never wanting in spring
and activity."

Mabel cast a timid glance at the stern, rigid countenance
of her father, of whom she had ever thought, as the warm-
hearted dwell on the affection of their absent parents;
and, as she saw that the muscles of his face were working,
notwithstanding the stiffness and method of his manner,
her very heart yearned to throw herself on his bosom and
to weep at will.  But he was so much colder in externals,
so much more formal and distant than she had expected to
find him, that she would not have dared to hazard the
freedom, even had they been alone.

"You have taken a long and troublesome journey,
brother, on my account; and we will try to make you com-
fortable while you stay among us."

"I hear you are likely to receive orders to lift your an-
chor, Sergeant, and to shift your berth into a part of the
world where they say there are a thousand islands."

"Pathfinder, this is some of your forgetfulness?"

"Nay, nay, Sergeant, I forgot nothing; but it did not
seem to me necessary to hide your intentions so very
closely from your own flesh and blood."

"All military movements ought to be made with as
little conversation as possible," returned the Sergeant,
tapping the guide's shoulder in a friendly, but reproachful
manner.  "You have passed too much of your life in
front of the French not to know the value of silence.  But
no matter; the thing must soon be known, and there is no
great use in trying now to conceal it.  We shall embark a
relief party shortly for a post on the lake, though I do not
say it is for the Thousand Islands, and I may have to go
with it; in which case I intend to take Mabel to make my
broth for me; and I hope, brother, you will not despise a
soldier's fare for a month or so."

"That will depend on the manner of marching.  I have
no love for woods and swamps."

"We shall sail in the _Scud_; and, indeed, the whole
service, which is no stranger to us, is likely enough to
please one accustomed to the water."

"Ay, to salt-water if you will, but not to lake-water.  If
you have no person to handle that bit of a cutter for you,
I have no objection to ship for the v'y'ge, notwithstanding;
though I shall look on the whole affair as so much time
thrown away for I consider it an imposition to call sailing
about this pond going to sea."

"Jasper is every way able to manage the _Scud_, brother
Cap; and in that light I cannot say that we have need of
your services, though we shall be glad of your company.
You cannot return to the settlement until a party is sent
in, and that is not likely to happen until after my return.
Well, Pathfinder, this is the first time I ever knew men on
the trail of the Mingos and you not at their head."

"To be honest with you, Sergeant," returned the guide,
not without a little awkwardness of manner, and a per-
ceptible difference in the hue of a face that had become so
uniformly red by exposure, "I have not felt that it was my
gift this morning.  In the first place, I very well know
that the soldiers of the 55th are not the lads to overtake
Iroquois in the woods; and the knaves did not wait to be
surrounded when they knew that Jasper had reached the
garrison.  Then a man may take a little rest after a sum-
mer of hard work, and no impeachment of his good-will.
Besides, the Sarpent is out with them; and if the mis-
creants are to be found at all, you may trust to his inmity
and sight: the first being stronger, and the last nearly, if
not quite as good as my own.  He loves the skulking
vagabonds as little as myself; and, for that matter, I may
say that my own feelings towards a Mingo are not much
more than the gifts of a Delaware grafted on a Christian
stock.  No, no, I thought I would leave the honor this
time, if honor there is to be, to the young ensign that
commands, who, if he don't lose his scalp, may boast of
his campaign in his letters to his mother when he gets in.
I thought I would play idler once in my life."

"And no one has a better right, if long and faithful
service entitles a man to a furlough," returned the Ser-
geant kindly.  "Mabel will think none the worse of you
for preferring her company to the trail of the savages;
and, I daresay, will be happy to give you a part of her
breakfast if you are inclined to eat.  You must not think,
girl, however, that the Pathfinder is in the habit of letting
prowlers around the fort beat a retreat without hearing
the crack of his rifle."

"If I thought she did, Sergeant, though not much given
to showy and parade evolutions, I would shoulder Killdeer
and quit the garrison before her pretty eyes had time to
frown.  No, no; Mabel knows me better, though we are
but new acquaintances, for there has been no want of
Mingos to enliven the short march we have already made
in company."

"It would need a great deal of testimony, Pathfinder, to
make me think ill of you in any way, and more than all in
the way you mention," returned Mabel, coloring with the
sincere earnestness with which she endeavored to remove
any suspicion to the contrary from his mind.  "Both father
and daughter, I believe, owe you their lives, and believe
me, that neither will ever forget it."

"Thank you, Mabel, thank you with all my heart.  But
I will not take advantage of your ignorance neither, girl,
and therefore shall say, I do not think the Mingos would
have hurt a hair of your head, had they succeeded by their
devilries and contrivances in getting you into their hands.
My scalp, and Jasper's, and Master Cap's there, and the
Sarpent's too, would sartainly have been smoked; but as
for the Sergeant's daughter, I do not think they would
have hurt a hair of her head."

"And why should I suppose that enemies, known to
spare neither women nor children, would have shown more
mercy to me than to another?  I feel, Pathfinder, that I
owe you my life."

"I say nay, Mabel; they wouldn't have had the heart to
hurt you.  No, not even a fiery Mingo devil would have
had the heart to hurt a hair of your head.  Bad as I sus-
pect the vampires to be, I do not suspect them of anything
so wicked as that.  They might have wished you, nay,
forced you to become the wife of one of their chiefs, and
that would be torment enough to a Christian young
woman; but beyond that I do not think even the Mingos
themselves would have gone."

"Well, then, I shall owe my escape from this great mis-
fortue to you," said Mabel, taking his hard hand into her
own frankly and cordially, and certainly in a way to de-
light the honest guide.  "To me it would be a lighter evil
to be killed than to become the wife of an Indian."

"That is her gift, Sergeant," exclaimed Pathfinder,
turning to his old comrade with gratification writton on
every lineament of his honest countenance, "and it will
have its way.  I tell the Sarpent that no Christianizing
will ever make even a Delaware a white man; nor any
whooping and yelling convert a pale-face into a red-skin.
That is the gift of a young woman born of Christian
parents, and it ought to be maintained."

"You are right, Pathfinder; and so far as Mabel Dun-
ham is concerned, it _shall_ be maintained.  But it is time
to break your fasts; and if you will follow me, brother
Cap, I will show you how we poor soldiers live here on a
distant frontier."



CHAPTER IX.

Now, my co-mates and partners in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp?  Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam.
_As You Like It._


Sergeant Dunham made no empty vaunt when he
gave the promise conveyed in the closing words of the last
chapter.  Notwithstandrng the remote frontier postion
of the post they who lived at it enjoyed a table that, in
many respects, kings and princes might have envied.  At
the Period of our tale, and, indeed, for half a century later,
the whole of that vast region which has been called the
West, or the new countries since the war of the revolution,
lay a comparatively unpeoped desert, teeming with all the
living productions of nature that properly belonged to the
climate, man and the domestic animals excepted.  The few
Indians that roamed its forests then could produce no
visible effects on the abundance of the game; and the
scattered garrisons, or occasional hunters, that here and
there were to be met with on that vast surface, had no
other influence than the bee on the buckwheat field, or the
humming-bird on the flower.

The marvels that have descended to our own times, in
the way of tradition, concerning the quantities of beasts,
birds, and fishes that were then to be met with, on the
shores of the great lakes in particular, are known to be
sustained by the experience of living men, else might we
hesitate about relating them; but having been eye-
witnesses of some of these prodigies, our office shall be
discharged with the confidence that certainty can impart.
Oswego was particularly well placed to keep the larder of
an epicure amply supplied.  Fish of various sorts abounded
in its river, and the sportsman had only to cast his line to
haul in a bass or some other member of the finny tribe,
which then peopled the waters, as the air above the swamps
of this fruitful latitude are known to be filled with insects.
Among others was the salmon of the lakes, a variety of
that well-known species, that is scarcely inferior to the
delicious salmon of northern Europe.  Of the different
migratory birds that frequent forests and waters, there
was the same affluence, hundreds of acres of geese and
ducks being often seen at a time in the great bays that
indent the shores of the lake.  Deer, bears, rabbits, and
squirrels, with divers other quadrupeds, among which was
sometimes included the elk, or moose, helped to complete
the sum of the natural supplies on which all the posts de-
pended, more or less, to relieve the unavoidable privations
of their remote frontier positions.

In a place where viands that would elsewhere be deemed
great luxuries were so abundant, no one was excluded
from their enjoyment.  The meanest individual at Oswego
habitually feasted on game that would have formed the
boast of a Parisian table; and it was no more than a
healthful commentary on the caprices of taste, and of the
waywardness of human desires, that the very diet which
in other scenes would have been deemed the subject of
envy and repinings got to pall on the appetite.  The
coarse and regular food of the army, which it became
necessary to husband on account of the difficulty of trans-
portation, rose in the estimation of the common soldier;
and at any time he would cheerfully desert his venison,
and ducks, and pigeons, and salmon, to banquet on the
sweets of pickled pork, stringy turnips, and half-cooked
cabbage.

The table of Sergeant Dunham, as a matter of course,
partook of the abundance and luxuries of the frontier, as
well as of its privations.  A delicious broiled salmon
smoked on a homely platter, hot venison steaks sent up
their appetizing odors, and several dishes of cold meats,
all of which were composed of game, had been set before
the guests, in honor of the newly arrived visitors, and in
vindication of the old soldier's hospitality.

"You do not seem to be on short allowance in this
quarter of the world, Sergeant," said Cap, after he had got
fairly initiated into the mysteries of the different dishes;
"your salmon might satisfy a Scotsman."

"It fails to do it, notwithstanding, brother Cap; for
among two or three hundred of the fellows that we have
in this garrison there are not half a dozen who will not
swear that the fish is unfit to be eaten.  Even some of the
lads, who never tasted venison except as poachers at home,
turn up their noses at the fattest haunches that we get
here."

"Ay, that is Christian natur'," put in Pathfinder; "and
I must say it is none to its credit.  Now, a red-skin never
repines, but is always thankful for the food he gets,
whether it be fat or lean, venison or bear, wild turkey's
breast or wild goose's wing.  To the shame of us white
men be it said, that we look upon blessings without satis-
faction, and consider trifling evils as matters of great ac-
count."

"It is so with the 55th, as I can answer, though I cannot
say as much for their Christianity," returned the Sergeant.
"Even the major himself, old Duncan of Lundie, will
sometimes swear that an oatmeal cake is better fare than
the Oswego bass, and sigh for a swallow of Highland water,
when, if so minded, he has the whole of Ontario to quench
his thirst in."

"Has Major Duncan a wife and children?" asked Mabel,
whose thoughts naturally turned towards her own sex in
her new situation.

"Not he, girl; though they do say that he has a be-
trothed at home.  The lady, it seems, is willing to wait,
rather than suffer the hardships of service in this wild
region; all of which, brother Cap, is not according to my
notions of a woman's duties.  Your sister thought differ-
ently."

"I hope, Sergeant, you do not think of Mabel for a sol-
dier's wife," returned Cap gravely.  "Our family has done
its share in that way already, and it's high time that the
sea was again remembered."

"I do not think of finding a husband for the girl in the
55th, or any other regiment, I can promise you, brother;
though I do think it getting to be time that the child were
respectably married."

"Father!"

"'Tis not their gifts, Sergeant, to talk of these matters
in so open a manner," said the guide; "for I've seen it
verified by experience, that he who would follow the trail
of a virgin's good-will must not go shouting out his
thoughts behind her.  So, if you please, we will talk of
something else."

"Well, then, brother Cap, I hope that bit of a cold
roasted pig is to your mind; you seem to fancy the food."

"Ay, ay; give me civilized grub if I must eat," returned
the pertinacious seaman.  "Venison is well enough for
your inland sailors, but we of the ocean like a little of that
which we understand."

Here Pathfinder laid down his knife and fork, and in-
dulged in a hearty laugh, though in his always silent man-
ner; then he asked, with a little curiosity in his manner, --

"Don't, you miss the skin, Master Cap? don't you miss
the skin?

"It would have been better for its jacket, I think my-
self, Pathfinder; but I suppose it is a fashion of the woods
to serve up shoats in this style."

"Well, well, a man may go round the 'arth and not
know everything.  If you had had the skinning of that
pig, Master Cap, it would have left you sore hands.  The
cratur' is a hedgehog!"

"Blast me, if I thought it wholesome natural pork
either!" returned Cap.  "But then I believed even a pig
might lose some of its good qualities up hereaway in the
woods."

"If the skinning of it, brother, does not fall to my
duty.  Pathfinder, I hope you didn't find Mabel disobedi-
ent on the march?"

"Not she, not she.  If Mabel is only half as well satisfied
with Jasper and Pathfinder as the Pathfinder and Jasper
are satisfied with her, Sergeant, we shall be friends for the
remainder of our days."

As the guide spoke, he turned his eyes towards the
blushing girl, with a sort of innocent desire to know her
opinion; and then, with an inborn delicacy, which proved
he was far superior to the vulgar desire to invade the
sanctity of feminine feeling, he looked at his plate, and
seemed to regret his own boldness.

"Well, well, we must remember that women are not
men, my friend," resumed the Sergeant, "and make proper
allowances for nature and education.  A recruit is not a
veteran.  Any man knows that it takes longer to make
a good soldier than it takes to make anything else."

"This is new doctrine, Sergeant," said Cap with some
spirit.  "We old seamen are apt to think that six soldiers,
ay, and capital soldiers too, might be made while one sailor
is getting his education."

"Ay, brother Cap, I've seen something of the opinions
which seafaring men have of themselves," returned the
brother-in-law, with a smile as bland as comported with
his saturnine features; "for I was many years one of the
garrison in a seaport.  You and I have conversed on the
subject before and I'm afraid we shall never agree.  But
if you wish to know what the difference is between a real
soldier and man in what I should call a state of nature,
you have only to look at a battalion of the 55th on parade
this afternoon, and then, when you get back to York, ex-
amine one of the militia regiments making its greatest
efforts."

"Well, to my eye, Sergeant, there is very little difference,
not more than you'll find between a brig and a snow.  To
me they seem alike: all scarlet, and feathers, and powder,
and pipeclay."

"So much, sir, for the judgment of a sailor," returned
the Sergeant with dignity; "but perhaps you are not aware
that it requires a year to teach a true soldier how to eat?"

"So much the worse for him.  The militia know how
to eat at starting; for I have often heard that, on their
marches, they commonly eat all before them, even if they
do nothing else."

"They have their gifts, I suppose, like other men," ob-
served Pathfinder, with a view to preserve the peace, which
was evidently in some danger of being broken by the ob-
stinate predilection of each of the disputants in favor of
his own calling; "and when a man has his gift from
Providence, it is commonly idle to endeavor to bear up
against it.  The 55th, Sergeant, is a judicous regiment in
the way of eating, as I know from having been so long in
its company though I daeesay militia corps could be found
that would outdo them in feats of that natur' too."

"Uncle;" said Mabel, "if you have breakfasted, I will
thank you to go out upon the bastion with me again.
We have neither of us half seen the lake, and it would be
hardly seemly for a young woman to be walking about the
fort, the first day of her arrival, quite alone."

Cap understood the motive of Mabel; and having, at
the bottom, a hearty friendship for his brother-in-law, he
was willing enough to defer the argument until they had
been longer together, for the idea of abandoning it alto-
gether never crossed the mind of one so dogmatical and
obstinate.  He accordingly accompanied his niece, leaving
Sergeant Dunham and his friend, the Pathfinder, alone
together.  As soon as his adversary had beat a retreat, the
Sergeant, who did not quite so well understand the
manoeuvre of his daughter, turned to his companion,
and, with a smile which was not without triumph, he re-
marked, --

"The army, Pathfinder, has never yet done itself justice
in the way of asserting its rights; and though modesty
becomes a man, whether he is in a red coat or a black one,
or, for that matter, in his shirt-sleeves, I don't like to let
a good opportunity slip of saying a word in its behalf.
Well, my friend," laying his own hand on one of the Path-
finder's, and giving it a hearty squeeze, "how do you like
the girl?"

"You have reason to be proud of her, Sergeant.  I have
seen many of her sex, and some that were great and beau-
tiful; but never before did I meet with one in whom I
thought Providence had so well balanced the different
gifts."

"And the good opinion, I can tell you, Pathfinder, is
mutual.  She told me last night all about your coolness,
and spirit, and kindness, -- particularly the last, for kind-
ness counts for more than half with females, my friend, --
and the first inspection seems to give satisfaction on both
sides.  Brush up the uniform, and pay a little more atten-
tion to the outside, Pathfinder, and you will have the girl
heart and hand."

"Nay, nay, Sergeant, I've forgotten nothing that you
have told me, and grudge no reasonable pains to make
myself as pleasant in the eyes of Mabel as she is getting to
be in mine.  I cleaned and brightened up Killdeer this
morning as soon as the sun rose; and, in my judgment,
the piece never looked better than it does at this very
moment."

"That is according to your hunting notions, Pathfinder;
but firearms should sparkle and glitter in the sun, and I
never yet could see any beauty in a clouded barrel."

"Lord Howe thought otherwise, Sergeant; and he was
accounted a good soldier."

"Very true; his lordship had all the barrels of his regi-
ment darkened, and what good came of it?  You can see
his 'scutcheon hanging in the English church at Albany.
No, no, my worthy friend, a soldier should be a soldier,
and at no time ought he to be ashamed or afraid to carry
about him the signs and symbols of his honorable trade.
Had you much discourse with Mabel, Pathfinder, as you
came along in the canoe?"

"There was not much opportunity, Sergeant, and then
I found myself so much beneath her in idees, that I was
afraid to speak of much beyond what belonged to my own
gifts."

"Therein you are partly right and partly wrong, my
friend.  Women love trifling discourse, though they like
to have most of it to themselves.  Now you know I'm a
man that do not loosen my tongue at every giddy thought;
and yet there were days when I could see that Mabel's
mother thought none the worse of me because I descended
a little from my manhood.  It is true, I was twenty-two
years younger then than I am to-day; and, moreover,
instead of being the oldest sergeant in the regiment, I was
the youngest.  Dignity is commanding and useful, and
there is no getting on without it, as respects the men; but
if you would be thoroughly esteemed by a woman, it is
necessary to condescend a little on occasions."

"Ah's me, Sergeant, I sometimes fear it will never do."

"Why do you think so discouragingly of a matter on
which I thought both our minds were made up?"

"We did agree, if Mabel should prove what you told me
she was, and if the girl could fancy a rude hunter and
guide, that I should quit some of my wandering ways, and
try to humanize my mind down to a wife and children.
But since I have seen the girl, I will own that many mis-
givings have come over me."

"How's this?" interrupted the Sergeant sternly; "did
I not understand you to say that you were pleased? -- and
is Mabel a young woman to disappoint expectation?"

"Ah, Sergeant, it is not Mabel that I distrust, but my-
self.  I am but a poor ignorant woodsman, after all; and
perhaps I'm not, in trutb, as good as even you and I may
think me."

"If you doubt your own judgment of yourself, Path-
finder, I beg you will not doubt mine.  Am I not accus-
tomed to judge men's character? and am I often deceived?
Ask Major Duncan, sir, if you desire any assurances in this
particular."

"But, Sergeant, we have long been friends; have fi't
side by side a dozen times, and have done each other many
services.  When this is the case, men are apt to think over
kindly of each other; and I fear me that the daughter may
not be so likely to view a plain ignorant hunter as favor-
ably as the father does."

"Tut, tut, Pathfinder! you don't know yourself, man,
and may put all faith in my judgment.  In the first place
you have experience; and, as all girls must want that, no
prudent young woman would overlook such a qualification.
Then you are not one of the coxcombs that strut about
when they first join a regiment; but a man who has seen
service, and who carries the marks of it on his person and
countenance.  I daresay you have been under fire some
thirty or forty times, counting all the skirmishes and am-
bushes that you've seen."

"All of that, Sergeant, all of that; but what will it
avail in gaining the good-will of a tender-hearted young
female?"

"It will gain the day.  Experience in the field is as
good in love as in war.  But you are as honest-hearted
and as loyal a subject as the king can boast of -- God bless
him!"

"That may be too; but I'm afeared I'm too rude and
too old and too wild like to suit the fancy of such a young
and delicate girl as Mabel, who has been unused to our
wilderness ways, and may think the settlements better
suited to her gifts and inclinations."

"These are new misgivings for you, my friend; and I
wonder they were never paraded before."

"Because I never knew my own worthlessness, perhaps,
until I saw Mabel.  I have travelled with some as fair,
and have guided them through the forest, and seen them
in their perils and in their gladness; but they were always
too much above me to make me think of them as more
than so many feeble ones I was bound to protect and de-
fend.  The case is now different.  Mabel and I are so
nearly alike, that I feel weighed down with a load that is
hard to bear, at finding us so unlike.  I do wish, Sergeant,
that I was ten years younger, more comely to look at, and
better suited to please a handsome young woman's fancy."

"Cheer up, my brave friend, and trust to a father's knowl-
edge of womankind.  Mabel half loves you already, and
a fortnight's intercourse and kindness, down among the
islands yonder will close ranks with the other half.  The
girl as much as told me this herself last night."

"Can this be so, Sergeant?" said the guide, whose meek
and modest nature shrank from viewing himself in colors
so favorable.  "Can this be truly so?  I am but a poor
hunter and Mabel, I see, is fit to be an officer's lady.  Do
you think the girl will consent to quit all her beloved set-
tlement usages, and her visitings and church-goings, to
dwell with a plain guide and hunter up hereaway in the
woods?  Will she not in the end, crave her old ways, and
a better man?"

"A better man, Pathfinder, would be hard to find," re-
turned the father.  "As for town usages, they are soon
forgotten in the freedom of the forest, and Mabel has just
spirit enough to dwell on a frontier.  I've not planned
this marriage, my friend, without thinking it over, as a
general does his campaign.  At first, I thought of bringing
you into the regiment, that you might succeed me when I
retire, which must be sooner or later; but on reflection,
Pathfinder I think you are scarcely fitted for the office.
Still, if not a soldier in all the meanings of the word, you
are a soldier in its best meaning, and I know that you have
the good-will of every officer in the corps.  As long as I
live, Mabel can dwell with me, and you will always have a
home when you return from your scoutings and marches."

"This is very pleasant to think of, Sergeant, if the girl
can only come into our wishes with good-will.  But, ah's
me! it does not seem that one like myself can ever be agree-
able in her handsome eyes.  If I were younger, and more
comely, now, as Jasper Western is, for instance, there might
be a chance -- yes, then, indeed, there might be some
chance."

"That for Jasper Eau-douce, and every younker of them
in or about the fort!" returned the Sergeant, snapping his
fingers.  "If not actually a younger, you are a younger-look-
ing, ay, and a better-looking man than the _Scud's_ master
- "

"Anan?" said Pathfinder, looking up at his companion
with an expression of doubt, as if he did not understand
his meaning.

"I say if not actually younger in days and years, you
look more hardy and like whipcord than Jasper, or any of
them; and there will be more of you, thirty years hence,
than of all of them put together.  A good conscience will
keep one like you a mere boy all his life."

"Jasper has as clear a conscience as any youth I know,
Sergeant, and is as likely to wear on that account as any
in the colony."

"Then you are my friend," squeezing the other's hand,
- "my tried, sworn, and
constant friend."

"Yes, we have been friends, Sergeant, near twenty years
before Mabel was born."

"True enough; before Mabel was born, we were well-
tried friends; and the hussy would never dream of refus-
ing to marry a man who was her father's friend before she
was born."

"We don't know, Sergeant, we don't know.  Like loves
like.  The young prefer the young for companions, and
the old the old."

"Not for wives, Pathfinder; I never knew an old man,
now, who had an objection to a young wife.  Then you
are respected and esteemed by every officer in the fort, as
I have said already, and it will please her fancy to like a
man that every one else likes."

"I hope I have no enemies but the Mingos," returned
the guide, stroking down his hair meekly and speaking
thoughtfully.  "I've tried to do right, and that ought to
make friends, though it sometimes fails."

"And you may be said to keep the best company; for
even old Duncan of Lundie is glad to see you, and you pass
hours in his society.  Of all the guides, he confides most
in you."

"Ay, even greater than he is have marched by my side
for days, and have conversed with me as if I were their
brother; but, Sergeant, I have never been puffed up by
their company, for I know that the woods often bring
men to a level who would not be so in the settlements."

"And you are known to be the greatest rifle shot that
ever pulled trigger in all this region."

"If Mabel could fancy a man for that, I might have no
great reason to despair; and yet, Sergeant, I sometimes
think that it is all as much owing to Killdeer as to any skill
of my own.  It is sartainly a wonderful piece, and might
do as much in the hands of another."

"That is your own humble opinion of yourself, Path-
finder; but we have seen too many fail with the same
weapon, and you succeed too often with the rifles of other
men, to allow me to agree with you.  We will get up a
shooting match in a day or two, when you call show your
skill, and when Mabel will form some judgment concern-
ing your true character."

"Will that be fair, Sergeant?  Everybody knows that
Killdeer seldom misses; and ought we to make a trial of
this sort when we all know what must be the result?"

"Tut, tut, man!  I foresee I must do half this courting
for you.  For one who is always inside of the smoke in a
skirmish, you are the faintest-hearted suitor I ever met
with.  Remember, Mabel comes of a bold stock; and the
girl will be as likely to admire a man as her mother was
before her."

Here the Sergeant arose, and proceeded to attend to his
never-ceasing duties, without apology; the terms on which
the guide stood with all in the garrison rendering this
freedom quite a matter of course.

The reader will have gathered from the conversation
just related, one of the plans that Sergeant Dunham had
in view in causing his daughter to be brought to the
frontier.  Although necessarily much weaned from the
caresses and blandishments that had rendered his child so
dear to him during the first year or two of his widowerhood,
he had still a strong but somewhat latent love for her.
Accustomed to command and to obey, without being ques-
tioned himself or questioning others, concerning the rea-
sonableness of the mandates, he was perhaps too much
disposed to believe that his daughter would marry the man
he might select, while he was far from being disposed to
do violence to her wishes.  The fact was; few knew the
Pathfinder intimately without secretly believing him to
be one of extraordinary qualities.  Ever the same, simple-
minded, faithful, utterly without fear, and yet prudent,
foremost in all warrantable enterprises, or what the opinion
of the day considered as such, and never engaged in any-
thing to call a blush to his cheek or censure on his acts, it
was not possible to live much with this being and not feel
respect and admiration for him which had no reference
to his position in life.  The most surprising peculiarity
about the man himself was the entire indifference with
which he regarded all distinctions which did not depend
on personal merit.  He was respectful to his superiors
from habit; but had often been known to correct their
mistakes and to reprove their vices with a fearlessness that
proved how essentially he regarded the more material
points, and with a natural discrimination that appeared to
set education at defiance.  In short, a disbeliever in the
ability of man to distinguish between good and evil with-
out the aid of instruction, would have been staggered by
the character of this extraordinary inhabitant of the fron-
tier.  His feelings appeared to possess the freshness and
nature of the forest in which he passed so much of his
time; and no casuist could have made clearer decisions in
matters relating to right and wrong; and yet he was not
without his prejudices, which, though few, and colored by
the character and usages of the individual, were deep-
rooted, and almost formed a part of his nature.  But the
most striking feature about the moral organization of
Pathfinder was his beautiful and unerring sense of justice.
This noble trait -- and without it no man can be truly great,
with it no man other than respectable -- probably had its
unseen influence on all who associated with him; for the
common and unprincipled brawler of the camp had been
known to return from an expedition made in his company
rebuked by his sentiments, softened by his language, and
improved by his example.  As might have been expected,
with so elevated a quality his fidelity was like the immov-
able rock; treachery in him was classed among the things
which are impossible; and as he seldom retired before his
enemies, so was he never known, under any circumstances
that admitted of an alternative, to abandon a friend.  The
affinities of such a character were, as a matter of course,
those of like for like.  His associates and intimates, though
more or less determined by chance, were generally of the
highest order as to moral propensities; for he appeared to
possess a species of instinctive discrimination, which led
him, insensibly to himself, most probably, to cling closest
to those whose characters would best reward his friend-
ship.  In short, it was said of the Pathfinder, by one ac-
customed to study his fellows, that he was a fair example
of what a just-minded and pure man might be, while un-
tempted by unruly or ambitious desires, and left to follow
the bias of his feelings, amid the solitary grandeur and
ennobling influences of a sublime nature; neither led aside
by the inducements which influence all to do evil amid the
incentives of civilization, nor forgetful of the Almighty
Being whose spirit pervades the wilderness as well as the
towns.

Such was the man whom Sergeant Dunham had selected
as the husband of Mabel.  In making this choice, he had
not been as much governed by a clear and judicious view
of the merits of the individual, perhaps, as by his own
likings; still no one knew the Pathfinder so intimately as
himself without always conceding to the honest guide a
high place in his esteem on account of these very virtues.
That his daughter could find any serious objections to the
match the old soldier did not apprehend; while, on the
other hand, he saw many advantages to himself in dim
perspective, connected with the decline of his days, and
an evening of life passed among descendants who were
equally dear to him through both parents.  He had first
made the proposition to his friend, who had listened to it
kindly, but who, the Sergeant was now pleased to find,
already betrayed a willingness to come into his own views
that was proportioned to the doubts and misgivings pro-
ceeding from his humble distrust of himself.



CHAPTER X.

Think not I love him, though I ask for him;
'Tis but a peevish boy: -- yet he talks well --
But what care I for words?


A week passed in the usual routine of a garrison.  Mabel
was becoming used to a situation that, at first she had
found not only novel, but a little irksome; and the officers
and men in their turn, gradually familiarized to the presence
of a young and blooming girl, whose attire and carriage
had that air of modest gentility about them which she had
obtained in the family of her patroness, annoyed her less
by their ill-concealed admiration, while they gratified her
by the respect which, she was fain to think, they paid her
on account of her father; but which, in truth, was more
to be attributed to her own modest but spirited deport-
ment, than to any deference for the worthy Sergeant.

Acquaintances made in a forest, or in any circumstances
of unusual excitement, soon attain their limits.  Mabel
found one week's residence at Oswego sufficient to deter-
mine her as to those with whom she might be intimate
and those whom she ought to avoid.  The sort of neutral
position occupied by her father, who was not an officer,
while he was so much more than a common soldier, by
keeping her aloof from the two great classes of military
life, lessened the number of those whom she was com-
pelled to know, and made the duty of decision compara-
tively easy.  Still she soon discovered that there were a
few, even among those that could aspire to a seat at the
Commandant's table, who were disposed to overlook the
halbert for the novelty of a well-turned figure and of a
pretty, winning face; and by the end of the first two or
three days she had admirers even among the gentlemen.
The Quartermaster, in particular, a middle-aged soldier,
who had more than once tried the blessings of matrimony
already, but was now a widower, was evidently disposed to
increase his intimacy with the Sergeant, though their
duties often brought them together; and the youngsters
among his messmates did not fail to note that this man of
method, who was a Scotsman of the name of Muir, was
much more frequent in his visits to the quarters of his
subordinate than had formerly been his wont.  A laugh,
or a joke, in honor of the "Sergeant's daughter," how-
ever, limited their strictures; though "Mabel Dunham"
was soon a toast that even the ensign, or the lieutenant,
did not disdain to give.

At the end of the week, Duncan of Lundie sent for
Sergeant Dunham, after evening roll-call, on business of a
nature that, it was understood, required a personal con-
ference.  The old veteran dwelt in a movable hut, which,
being placed on trucks, he could order to be wheeled about
at pleasure, sometimes living in one part of the area within
the fort, and sometimes in another.  On the present occa-
sion, he had made a halt near the centre; and there he
was found by his subordinate, who was admitted to his
presence without any delay or dancing attendance in an
ante-chamber.  In point of fact, there was very little dif-
ference in the quality of the accommodations allowed to
the officers and those allowed to the men, the former being
merely granted the most room.

"Walk in, Sergeant, walk in, my good friend," said old
Lundie heartily, as his inferior stood in a respectful atti-
tude at the door of a sort of library and bedroom into
which he had been ushered; -- "walk in, and take a seat on
that stool.  I have sent for you, man; to discuss anything
but rosters and pay-rolls this evening.  It is now many
years since we have been comrades, and 'auld lang syne'
should count for something, even between a major and his
orderly, a Scot and a Yankee.  Sit ye down, man, and just
put yourself at your ease.  It has been a fine day, Sergeant."

"It has indeed, Major Duncan," returned the other,
who, though he complied so far as to take the seat, was
much too practised not to understand the degree of respect
it was necessary to maintain in his manner; "a very fine
day, sir, it has been and we may look for more of them at
this season."

"I hope so with all my heart.  The crops look well as
it is man and you'll be finding that the 55th make almost
as good farmers as soldiers.  I never saw better potatoes
in Scotland than we are likely to have in that new patch
of ours."

"They promise a good yield, Major Duncan; and, in that
light, a more comfortable winter than the last."

"Life is progressive, Sergeant, in its comforts as well as
in its need of them.  We grow old, and I begin to think
it time to retire and settle in life.  I feel that my working
days are nearly over."

"The king, God bless him! sir, has much good service
in your honor yet."

"It may be so, Sergeant Dunham, especially if he should
happen to have a spare lieutenant-colonelcy left."

"The 55th will be honored the day that commission is
given to Duncan of Lundie, sir."

"And Duncan of Lundie will be honored the day he re-
ceives it.  But, Sergeant, if you have never had a lieutenant-
colonelcy, you have had a good wife, and that is the next
thing to rank in making a man happy."

"I have been married, Major Duncan; but it is now a
long time since I have had no drawback on the love I bear
his majesty and my duty."

"What, man! not even the love you bear that active
little round-limbed, rosy-cheeked daughter that I have
seen in the fort these last few days!  Out upon you, Ser-
geant! old fellow as I am, I could almost love that little
lassie myself, and send the lieuteuant-colonelcy to the
devil."

"We all know where Major Duncan's heart is, and that
is in Scotland, where a beautiful lady is ready and willing
to make him happy, as soon as his own sense of duty shall
permit."

"Ay, hope is ever a far-off thing, Sergeant," returned
the superior, a shade of melancholy passing over his hard
Scottish features as he spoke; "and bonnie Scotland is a
far-off country.  Well, if we have no heather and oatmeal
in this region, we have venison for the killing of it and
salmon as plenty as at Berwick-upon-Tweed.  Is it true,
Sergeant that the men complain of having been over-
venisoned and over-pigeoned of late?"

"Not for some weeks, Major Duncan, for neither deer
nor birds are so plenty at this season as they have been.
They begin to throw their remarks about concerning the
salmon, but I trust we shall get through the summer
without any serious disturbance on the score of food.  The
Scotch in the battalion do, indeed, talk more than is pru-
dent of their want of oatmeal, grumbling occasionally of
our wheaten bread."

"Ah, that is human nature, Sergeant! pure, unadul-
terated Scotch human nature.  A cake, man, to say the
truth, is an agreeable morsel, and I often see the time
when I pine for a bite myself."

"If the feeling gets to be troublesome, Major Duncan, --
in the men, I mean, sir, for I would not think of saying so
disrespectful a thing to your honor, -- but if the men ever
pine seriously for their natural food, I would humbly
recommend that some oatmeal be imported, or prepared in
this country for them, and I think we shall hear no more
of it.  A very little would answer for a cure, sir."

"You are a wag, Sergeant; but hang me if I am sure
you are not right.  There may be sweeter things in this
world, after all, than oatmeal.  You have a sweet daughter,
Dunham, for one."

"The girl is like her mother, Major Duncan, and will
pass inspection," said the Sergeant proudly.  "Neither
was brought up on anything better than good American
flour.  The girl will pass inspection, sir."

"That would she, I'll answer for it.  Well, I may as well
come to the point at once, man, and bring up my reserve
into the front of the battle.  Here is Davy Muir, the
quartermaster, disposed to make your daughter his wife,
and he has just got me to open the matter to you, being
fearful of compromising his own dignity; and I may as
well add that half the youngsters in the fort toast her, and
talk of her from morning till night."

"She is much honored, sir," returned the father stiffly;
"but I trust the gentlemen will find something more
worthy of them to talk about ere long.  I hope to see her
the wife of an honest man before many weeks, sir."

"Yes, Davy is an honest man, and that is more than can
be said for all in the quartermaster's department, I'm
thinking, Sergeant," returned Lundie, with a slight smile.
"Well, then may I tell the Cupid-stricken youth that the
matter is as good as settled?"

"I thank your honor; but Mabel is betrothed to an-
other."

"The devil she is!  That will produce a stir in the fort;
though I'm not sorry to hear it either, for, to be frank
with you, Sergeant, I'm no great admirer of unequal
matches."

"I think with your honor, and have no desire to see my
daughter an officer's lady.  If she can get as high as her
mother was before her, it ought to satisfy any reasonable
woman."

"And may I ask, Sergeant, who is the lucky man that
you intend to call son-in-law ?"

"The Pathfinder, your honor."

"Pathfinder!"

"The same, Major Duncan; and in naming him to you,
I give you his whole history.  No one is better known on
this frontier than my honest, brave, true-hearted friend."

"All that is true enough; but is he, after all, the sort of
person to make a girl of twenty happy?"

"Why not, your honor?  The man is at the head of his
calling.  There is no other guide or scout connected with
the army who has half the reputation of Pathfinder, or
who deserves to have it half as well."

"Very true, Sergeant; but is the reputation of a scout
exactly the sort of renown to captivate a girl's fancy?"

"Talking of girls' fancies, sir, is in my humble opinion
much like talking of a recruit's judgment.  If we were to
take the movements of the awkward squad, sir, as a guide,
we should never form a decent line in battalion, Major
Duncan."

"But your daughter has nothing awkward about her:
for a genteeler girl of her class could not be found in old
Albion itself.  Is she of your way of thinking in this
matter? -- though I suppose she must be, as you say she is
betrothed."

"We have not yet conversed on the subject, your honor;
but I consider her mind as good as made up, from several
little circumstances which might be named."

"And what are these circumstances, Sergeant?" asked
the Major, who began to take more interest than he had
at first felt on the subject.  "I confess a little curiosity to
know something about a woman's mind, being, as you
know, a bachelor myself."

"Why, your honor, when I speak of the Pathfinder to
the girl, she always looks me full in the face; chimes in
with everything I say in his favor, and has a frank open
way with her, which says as much as if she half considered
him already as a husband."

"Hum! and these signs, you think, Dunham, are faith-
ful tokens of your daughter's feelings?"

"I do, your honor, for they strike me as natural.  When
I find a man, sir, who looks me full in the face, while he
praises an officer, -- for, begging your honor's pardon, the
men will sometimes pass their strictures on their betters,
- and when I find a man looking me in the eyes as he
praises his captain, I always set it down that the fellow is
honest, and means what he says."

"Is there not some material difference in the age of the
intended bridegroom and that of his pretty bride, Ser-
geant?"

"You are quite right, sir; Pathfinder is well advanced
towards forty, and Mabel has every prospect of happiness
that a young woman can derive from the certainty of pos-
sessing an experienced husband.  I was quite forty myself,
your honor, when I married her mother."

"But will your daughter be as likely to admire a green
hunting-shirt, such as that our worthy guide wears, with a
fox-skin cap, as the smart uniform of the 55th?"

"Perhaps not, sir; and therefore she will have the merit
of self-denial, which always makes a young woman wiser
and better."

"And are you not afraid that she may be left a widow
while still a young woman? what between wild beasts, and
wilder savages, Pathfinder may be said to carry his life in
his hand."

"'Every bullet has its billet,' Lundie," for so the Major
was fond of being called in his moments of condescension,
and when not engaged in military affairs; "and no man in
the 55th can call himself beyond or above the chances of
sudden death.  In that particular, Mabel would gain nothing
by a change.  Besides, sir, if I may speak freely on such a
subject, I much doubt if ever Pathfinder dies in battle, or
by any of the sudden chances of the wilderness."

"And why so, Sergeant?" asked the Major.  "He is a
soldier, so far as danger is concerned, and one that is much
more than usually exposed; and, being free of his person,
why should he expect to escape when others do not?"

"I do not believe, your honor, that the Pathfinder con-
siders his own chances better than any one's else, but the
man will never die by a bullet.  I have seen him so often
handling his rifle with as much composure as if it were a
shepherd's crook, in the midst of the heaviest showers of
bullets, and under so many extraordinary circumstances,
that I do not think Providence means he should ever fall
in that manner.  And yet, if there be a man in his Majesty's
dominions who really deserves such a death, it is Path-
finder."

"We never know, Sergeant," returned Lundie, with a
countenance grave with thought; "and the less we say
about it, perhaps, the better.  But will your daughter --
Mabel, I think, you call her -- will Mabel be as willing to
accept one who, after all, is a mere hanger-on of the army,
as to take one from the service itself?  There is no hope
of promotion for the guide, Sergeant."

"He is at the head of his corps already, your honor.  In
short, Mabel has made up her mind on this subject; and,
as your honor has had the condescension to speak to me
about Mr. Muir, I trust you will be kind enough to say
that the girl is as good as billeted for life."

"Well, well, this is your own matter, and, now -- Ser-
geant Dunham!"

"Your honor," said the other, rising, and giving the
customary salute.

"You have been told it is my intention to send you
down among the Thousand Islands for the next month.
All the old subalterns have had their tours of duty in that
quarter -- all that I like to trust at least; and it has at
length come to your turn.  Lieutenant Muir, it is true,
claims his right; but, being quartermaster, I do not like
to break up well-established arrangements.  Are the men
drafted?"

"Everything is ready, your honor.  The draft is made,
and I understood that the canoe which got in last night
brought a message to say that the party already below is
looking out for the relief."

"It did; and you must sail the day after to-morrow, if
not to-morrow night.  It will be wise, perhaps, to sail in
the dark."

"So Jasper thinks, Major Duncan; and I know no one
more to be depended on in such an affair than young
Jasper Western."

"Young Jasper Eau-douce!" said Lundie, a slight smile
gathering around his usually stern mouth.  "Will that
lad be of your party, Sergeant?"

"Your honor will remember that the _Scud_ never quits
port without him."

"True; but all general rules have their exceptions.
Have I not seen a seafaring person about the fort within
the last few days?"

"No doubt, your honor; it is Master Cap, a brother-in-
law of mine, who brought my daughter from below."

"Why not put him in the _Scud_ for this cruise, Sergeant,
and leave Jasper behind?  Your brother-in-law would like
the variety of a fresh-water cruise, and you would enjoy
more of his company."

"I intended to ask your honor's permission to take him
along; but he must go as a volunteer.  Jasper is too brave
a lad to be turned out of his command without a reason,
Major Duncan; and I'm afraid brother Cap despises fresh
water too much to do duty on it."

"Quite right, Sergeant, and I leave all this to your own
discretion.  Eau-douce must retain his command, on sec-
ond thoughts.  You intend that Pathfinder shall also be
of the party?"

"If your honor approves of it.  There will be service
for both the guides, the Indian as well as the white man."

"I think you are right.  Well, Sergeant, I wish you
good luck in the enterprise; and remember the post is to
be destroyed and abandoned when your command is with-
drawn.  It will have done its work by that time, or we
shall have failed entirely, and it is too ticklish a position
to be maintained unnecessarily.  You can retire."

Sergeant Dunham gave the customary salute, turned on
his heels as if they bad been pivots, and had got the door
nearly drawn to after him, when he was suddenly recalled.

"I had forgotten, Sergeant, the younger officers have
begged for a shooting match, and to-morrow has been
named for the day.  All competitors will be admitted, and
the prizes will be a silver-mounted powder horn, a leathern
flask ditto," reading from a piece of paper, "as I see by
the professional jargon of this bill, and a silk calash for a
lady.  The latter is to enable the victor to show his gal-
lantry by making an offering of it to her he best loves."

"All very agreeable, your honor, at least to him that
succeeds.  Is the Pathfinder to be permitted to enter?"

"I do not well see how he can be excluded, if he choose
to come forward.  Latterly, I have observed that he takes
no share in these sports, probably from a conviction of his
own unequalled skill."

"That's it, Major Duncan; the honest fellow knows
there is not a man on the frontier who can equal him, and
he does not wish to spoil the pleasure of others.  I think
we may trust to his delicacy in anything, sir.  Perhaps it
may be as well to let him have his own way?"

"In this instance we must, Sergeant.  Whether he will
be as successful in all others remains to be seen.  I wish
you good evening, Dunham."

The Sergeant now withdrew, leaving Duncan of Lundie
to his own thoughts: that they were not altogether disa-
greeable was to be inferred from the smiles which occa-
sionally covered a countenance hard and martial in its
usual expression, though there were moments in which all
its severe sobriety prevailed.  Half an hour might have
passed, when a tap at the door was answered by a direc-
tion to enter.  A middle-aged man, in the dress of an offi-
cer, but whose uniform wanted the usual smartness of the
profession, made his appearance, and was saluted as "Mr.
Muir."

"I have come sir, at your bidding, to know my for-
tune," said the Quartermaster, in a strong Scotch accent,
as soon as he had taken the seat which was proffered to
him.  "To say the truth to you, Major Duncan, this girl
is making as much havoc in the garrison as the French
did before Ty: I never witnessed so general a rout in so
short a time!"

"Surely, Davy, you don't mean to persuade me that your
young and unsophisticated heart is in such a flame, after
one week's ignition?  Why, man, this is worse than the
affair in Sootland, where it was said the heat within was so
intense that it just burnt a hole through your own pre-
cious body, and left a place for all the lassies to peer in at,
to see what the combustible material was worth."

"Ye'll have your own way, Major Duncan; and your
father and mother would have theirs before ye, even if
the enemy were in the camp.  I see nothing so extraordi-
nar' in young people following the bent of their inclina-
tions and wishes."

"But you've followed yours so often, Davy, that I should
think by this time it had lost the edge of novelty.  In-
cluding that informal affair in Scotland, when you were a
lad, you've been married four times already."

"Only three, Major, as I hope to get another wife.  I've
not yet had my number: no, no; only three."

"I'm thinking, Davy, you don't include the first affair
I mentioned; that in which there was no parson."

"And why should I Major?  The courts decided that
it was no marriage; and what more could a man want?
The woman took advantage of a slight amorous propensity
that may be a weakness in my disposition, perhaps, and
inveigled me into a contract which was found to be illegal."

"If I remember right, Muir, there were thought to be
two sides to that question, in the time of it?"

"It would be but an indifferent question, my dear
Major, that hadn't two sides to it; and I've known many
that had three.  But the poor woman's dead, and there
was no issue; so nothing came of it after all.  Then, I was
particularly unfortunate with my second wife; I say sec-
ond, Major, out of deference to you, and on the mere sup-
position that the first was a marriage at all; but first or
second, I was particularly unfortunate with Jeannie
Graham, who died in the first lustrum, leaving neither
chick nor chiel behind her.  I do think, if Jeannie had
survived, I never should have turned my thoughts towards
another wife."

"But as she did not, you married twice after her death;
and are desirous of doing so a third time."

"The truth can never justly be gainsaid, Major Duncan,
and I am always ready to avow it.  I'm thinking, Lundie,
you are melancholar this fine evening?"

"No, Muir, not melancholy absolutely; but a little
thoughtful, I confess.  I was looking back to my boyish
days, when I, the laird's son, and you, the parson's, roamed
about our native hills, happy and careless boys, taking lit-
tle heed to the future; and then have followed some
thoughts, that may be a little painful, concerning that
future as it has turned out to be."

"Surely, Lundie, ye do not complain of yer portion of
it.  You've risen to be a major, and will soon be a lieute-
nant-colonel, if letters tell the truth; while I am just one
step higher than when your honored father gave me my
first commission, and a poor deevil of a quartermaster."

"And the four wives?"

"Three, Lundie; three only that were legal, even under
our own liberal and sanctified laws."

"Well, then, let it be three.  Ye know, Davy," said
Major Duncan, insensibly dropping into the pronunciation
and dialect of his youth, as is much the practice with
educated Scotchmen as they warm with a subject that
comes near the heart, -- "ye know, Davy, that my own
choice has long been made, and in how anxious and hope-
wearied a manner I've waited for that happy hour when I
can call the woman I've so long loved a wife; and here
have you, without fortune, name, birth, or merit -- I mean
particular merit -- "

"Na, na; dinna say that, Lundie.  The Muirs are of
gude bluid."

"Well, then, without aught but bluid, ye've wived four
times -- "

"I tall ye but thrice, Lundie.  Ye'll weaken auld
friendship if ye call it four."

"Put it at yer own number, Davy; and it's far more
than yer share.  Our lives have been very different, on
the score of matrimony, at least; you must allow that, my
old friend."

"And which do you think has been the gainer, Major,
speaking as frankly thegither as we did when lads?"

"Nay, I've nothing to conceal.  My days have passed in
hope deferred, while yours have passed in -- "

"Not in hope realized, I give you mine honor, Major
Duncan," interrupted the Quartermaster.  "Each new ex-
periment I have thought might prove an advantage; but
disappointment seems the lot of man.  Ah! this is a vain
world of ours, Lundie, it must be owned; and in nothing
vainer than in matrimony."

"And yet you are ready to put your neck into the noose
for the fifth time?"

"I desire to say, it will be but the fourth, Major Dun-
can," said the Quartermaster positively; then, instantly
changing the expression of his face to one of boyish rap-
ture, he added, "But this Mabel Dunham is a _rara avis!_
Our Scotch lassies are fair and pleasant; but it must be
owned these colonials are of surpassing comeliness."

"You will do well to recollect your commission and
blood, Davy.  I believe all four of your wives -- "

"I wish my dear Lundie, ye'd be more accurate in yer
arithmetic.  Three times one make three."

"All three, then, were what might be termed gentle-
women?"

"That's just it, Major.  Three were gentlewomen, as you
say, and the connections were suitable."

"And the fourth being the daughter of my father's gar-
dener, the connection was unsuitable.  But have you no
fear that marrying the child of a non-commissioned offi-
cer, who is in the same corps with yourself, will have the
effect to lessen your consequence in the regiment?"

"That's just been my weakness through life, Major
Duncan; for I've always married without regard to conse-
quences.  Every man has his besetting sin, and matri-
mony, I fear, is mine.  And now that we have discussed
what may be called the principles of the connection, I will
just ask if you did me the favor to speak to the Sergeant
on the trifling affair?"

"I did, David; and am sorry to say, for your hopes, that
I see no great chance of your succeeding."

"Not succeeding!  An officer, and a quartermaster in
the bargain, and not succeed with a sergeant's daugh-
ter!"

"It's just that, Davy."

"And why not, Lundie?  Will ye have the goodness to
answer just that?"

"The girl is betrothed.  Hand plighted, word passed,
love pledged, -- no, hang me if I believe that either; but
she is betrothed."

"Well, that's an obstacle, it must be avowed, Major,
though it counts for little if the heart is free."

"Quite true; and I think it probable the heart is free
in this case; for the intended husband appears to be the
choice of the father rather than of the daughter."

"And who may it be, Major?" asked the Quartermas-
ter, who viewed the whole matter with the philosophy and
coolness acquired by use.  "I do not recollect any plausi-
ble suitor that is likely to stand in my way."

"No, you are the only _plausible_ suitor on the frontier,
Davy.  The happy man is Pathfinder."

"Pathfinder, Major Duncan!"

"No more, nor any less, David Muir.  Pathfinder is the
man; but it may relieve your jealousy a little to know
that, in my judgment at least, it is a match of the father's
rather than of the daughter's seeking."

"I thought as much!" exclaimed the Quartermaster,
drawing a long breath, like one who felt relieved; "it's
quite impossible that with my experience in human nature
- "

"Particularly hu-woman's nature, David."

"Ye will have yer joke, Lundie, let who will suffer.
But I did not think it possible I could be deceived as to
the young woman's inclinations, which I think I may
boldly pronounce to be altogether above the condition of
Pathfinder.  As for the individual himself -- why, time will
show."

"Now, tell me frankly, Davy Muir," said Lundie, step-
ping short in his walk, and looking the other earnestly in
the face with a comical expression of surprise, that ren-
dered the veteran's countenance ridiculously earnest, --
"do you really suppose a girl like the daughter of Ser-
geant Dunham can take a serious fancy to a man of your
years and appearance, and experience, I might add?"

"Hout, awa', Lundie! ye dinna know the sax, and that's
the reason yer unmarried in yer forty-fifth year.  It's a
fearfu' time ye've been a bachelor, Major!"

"And what may be your age, Lieutenant Muir, if I may
presume to ask so delicate a question?"

"Forty-seven; I'll no' deny it, Lundie; and if I get
Mabel, there'll be just a wife for every twa lustrums.  But
I didna think Sergeant Dunham would be so humble
minded as to dream of giving that sweet lass of his to one
like the Pathfinder."

"There's no dream about it, Davy; the man is as seri-
ous as a soldier about to be flogged."

"Well, well, Major, we are auld friends," -- both ran
into the Scotch or avoided it, as they approached or drew
away from their younger days, in the dialogue, -- "and
ought to know how to take and give a joke, off duty.  It
is possible the worthy man has not understood my hints,
or he never would have thought of such a thing.  The
difference between an officer's consort and a guide's woman
is as vast as that between the antiquity of Scotland and
the antiquity of America.  I'm auld blood, too, Lundie."

"Take my word for it Davy, your antiquity will do you
no good in this affair; and as for your blood, it is not
older than your bones.  Well, well, man, ye know the
Sergeant's answer; and so ye perceive that my influence,
on which ye counted so much, can do nought for ye.  Let
us take a glass thegither, Davy, for auld acquaintance
sake; and then ye'll be doing well to remember the party
that marches the morrow, and to forget Mabel Dunham as
fast as ever you can."

"Ah, Major! I have always found it easier to forget a
wife than to forget a sweetheart.  When a couple are
fairly married, all is settled but the death, as one may say,
which must finally part us all; and it seems to me awfu'
irreverent to disturb the departed; whereas there is so
much anxiety and hope and felicity in expectation like,
with the lassie, that it keeps thought alive."

"That is just my idea of your situation, Davy; for I
never supposed you expected any more felicity with either
of your wives.  Now, I've heard of fellows who were so
stupid as to look forward to happiness with their wives
even beyond the grave.  I drink to your success, or to
your speedy recovery from this attack, Lieutenant; and I
admonish you to be more cautious in future, as some of
these violent cases may yet carry you off."

"Many thanks, dear Major; and a speedy termination
to an old courtship, of which I know something.  This is
real mountain dew, Lundie, and it warms the heart like a
gleam of bonnie Scotland.  As for the men you've just
mentioned, they could have had but one wife a piece; for
where there are several, the deeds of the women them-
selves may carry them different ways.  I think a reasona-
ble husband ought to be satisfied with passing his allotted
time with any particular wife in this world, and not to go
about moping for things unattainable.  I'm infinitely
obliged to you, Major Duncan, for this and all your other
acts of friendship; and if you could but add another, I
should think you had not altogether forgotten the play-
fellow of your boyhood."

"Well, Davy, if the request be reasonable, and such as a
superior ought to grant, out with it, man."

"If ye could only contrive a little service for me, down
among the Thousand Isles, for a fortnight or so, I think
this matter might be settled to the satisfaction of all par-
ties.  Just remember, Lundie, the lassie is the only mar-
riageable white female on this frontier."

"There is always duty for one in your line at a post,
however small; but this below can be done by the Ser-
geant as well as by the Quartermaster-general, and better
too."

"But not better than by a regimental officer.  There is
great waste, in common, among the orderlies."

"I'll think of it, Muir," said the Major, laughing, "and
you shall have my answer in the morning.  Here will be a
fine occasion, man, the morrow, to show yourself off be-
fore the lady; you are expert with the rifle, and prizes are
to be won.  Make up your mind to display your skill, and
who knows what may yet happen before the _Scud_ sails."

"I'm thinking most of the young men will try their
hands in this sport, Major!"

"That will they, and some of the old ones too, if you
appear.  To keep you in countenance, I'll try a shot or
two myself, Davy; and you know I have some name that
way."

"It might, indeed, do good.  The female heart, Major
Duncan, is susceptible in many different modes, and
sometimes in a way that the rules of philosophy might
reject.  Some require a suitor to sit down before them, as
it might be, in a regular siege, and only capitulate when
the place can hold out no longer; others, again, like to be
carried by storm; while there are hussies who can only be
caught by leading them into an ambush.  The first is the
most creditable and officer-like process, perhaps; but I
must say I think the last the most pleasing."

"An opinion formed from experience, out of all question.
And what of the storming parties?"

"They may do for younger men, Lundie," returned the
Quartermaster, rising and winking, a liberty that he often
took with his commanding officer on the score of a long
intimacy; "every period of life has its necessities, and at
forty-seven it's just as well to trust a little to the head.  I
wish you a very good even, Major Duncan, and freedom
from gout, with a sweet and refreshing sleep."

"The same to yourself, Mr. Muir, with many thanks.
Remember the passage of arms for the morrow."

The Quartermaster withdrew, leaving Lundie in his
library to reflect on what had just passed.  Use had so
accustomed Major Duncan to Lieutenant Muir and all his
traits and humors, that the conduct of the latter did not
strike the former with the same force as it will probably
the reader.  In truth, while all men act under one com-
mon law that is termed nature, the varieties in their dis-
positions, modes of judging, feelings, and selfishness are
infinite.



CHAPTER XI.

Compel the hawke to sit that is unmann'd,
Or make the hound, untaught, to draw the deere,
Or bring the free against his will in band,
Or move the sad a pleasant tale to heere,
Your time is lost, and you no whit the neere!
So love ne learnes, of force the heart to knit:
She serves but those that feel sweet fancies' fit.
_Mirror for Magistrates._


It is not often that hope is rewarded by fruition so
completely as the wishes of the young men of the garrison
were met by the state of the weather on the succeeding
day.  The heats of summer were little felt at Oswego at
the period of which we are writing; for the shade of the
forest, added to the refreshing breezes from the lake, so
far reduced the influence of the sun as to render the
nights always cool and the days seldom oppressive.

It was now September, a month in which the strong
gales of the coast often appear to force themselves across
the country as far as the great lakes, where the inland
sailor sometimes feels that genial influence which charac-
terizes the winds of the ocean invigorating his frame,
cheering his spirits, and arousing his moral force.  Such a
day was that on which the garrison of Oswego assembled
to witness what its commander had jocularly called a
"passage of arms."  Lundie was a scholar in military
matters at least, and it was one of his sources of honest
pride to direct the reading and thoughts of the young men
under his orders to the more intellectual parts of their
profession.  For one in his situation, his library was both
good and extensive, and its books were freely lent to all
who desired to use them.  Among other whims that had
found their way into the garrison through these means,
was a relish for the sort of amusement in which it was now
about to indulge; and around which some chronicles of
the days of chivalry had induced them to throw a parade
and romance not unsuited to the characters and habits of
soldiers, or to the insulated and wild post occupied by this
particular garrison.  While so earnestly bent on pleasure,
however, they on whom that duty devolved did not neglect
the safety of the garrison.  One standing on the ramparts
of the fort, and gazing on the waste of glittering water
that bounded the view all along the northern horizon, and
on the slumbering and seemingly boundless forest which
filled the other half of the panorama, would have fancied the
spot the very abode of peacefulness and security; but
Duncan of Lundie too well knew that the woods might, at
any moment, give up their hundreds, bent on the destruc-
tion of the fort and all it contained; and that even the
treacherous lake offered a highway of easy approach by
which his more civilized and scarcely less wily foes, the
French, could come upon him at an unguarded moment.
Parties were sent out under old and vigilant officers, men
who cared little for the sports of the day, to scour the for-
est; and one entire company held the fort, under arms,
with orders to maintain a vigilance as strict as if an
enemy of superior force was known to be near.  With
these precautions, the remainder of the officers and men
abandoned themselves, without apprehension, to the busi-
ness of the morning.

The spot selected for the sports was a sort of esplanade,
a little west of the fort, and on the immediate bank of the
lake.  It had been cleared of its trees and stumps, that it
might answer the purpose of a parade-ground, as it pos-
sessed the advantages of having its rear protected by the
water, and one of its flanks by the works.  Men drilling
on it could be attacked, consequently, on two sides only;
and as the cleared space beyond it, in the direction of the
west and south, was large, any assailants would be com-
pelled to quit the cover of the woods before they could
make an approach sufficiently near to render them dan-
gerous.

Although the regular arms of the regiment were mus-
kets, some fifty rifles were produced on the present occa-
sion.  Every officer had one as a part of his private provi-
sion for amusement; many belonged to the scouts and
friendly Indians, of whom more or less were always hang-
ing about the fort; and there was a public provision of
them for the use of those who followed the game with the
express object of obtaining supplies.  Among those who
carried the weapon were some five or six, who had reputa-
tion for knowing how to use it particularly well -- so well,
indeed, as to have given them a celebrity on the frontier;
twice that number who were believed to be much better
than common; and many who would have been thought ex-
pert in almost any situation but the precise one in which
they now happened to be placed.

The distance was a hundred yards, and the weapon was
to be used without a rest; the target, a board, with the
customary circular lines in white paint, having the bull's-
eye in the centre.  The first trials in skill commenced
with challenges among the more ignoble of the competi-
tors to display their steadiness and dexterity in idle com-
petition.  None but the common men engaged in this
strife, which had little to interest the spectators, among
whom no officer had yet appeared.

Most of the soldiers were Scotch, the regiment having
been raised at Stirling and its vicinity not many years
before, though, as in the case of Sergeant Dunham, many
Americans had joined it since its arrival in the colonies.
As a matter of course, the provincials were generally the
most expert marksmen; and after a desultory trial of half
an hour it was necessarily conceded that a youth who had
been born in the colony of New York, and who coming of
Dutch extraction, was the most expert of all who had yet
tried their skill.  It was just as this opinion prevailed
that the oldest captain, accompanied by most of the gen-
tlemen and ladies of the fort, appeared on the parade.  A
train of some twenty females of humbler condition fol-
lowed, among whom was seen the well-turned form, in-
telligent, blooming, animated countenance, and neat, be-
coming attire of Mabel Dunham.

Of females who were officially recognized as belonging
to the class of ladies, there were but three in the fort, all
of whom were officers' wives; Mabel being strictly, as had
been stated by the Quartermaster, the only real candidate
for matrimony among her sex.

Some little preparation had been made for the proper
reception of the females, who were placed on a low staging
of planks near the immediate bank of the lake.  In this
vicinity the prizes were suspended from a post.  Great
care was taken to reserve the front seat of the stage for
the three ladies and their children; while Mabel and those
who belouged to the non-commissioned officers of the regi-
ment, occupied the second.  The wives and daughters of
the privates were huddled together in the rear, some stand-
ing and some sitting, as they could find room.  Mabel,
who had already been admitted to the society of the
officers' wives, on the footing of a humble companion, was
a good deal noticed by the ladies in front, who had a
proper appreciation of modest self-respect and gentle re-
finement, though they were all fully aware of the value of
rank, more particularly in a garrison.

As soon as this important portion of the spectators had
got into their places, Lundie gave orders for the trial of skill
to proceed in the manner that had been prescribed in his
previous orders.  Some eight or ten of the best marksmen
of the garrison now took possession of the stand, and began
to fire in succession.  Among them were officers and men
indiscriminately placed, nor were the casual visitors in the
fort excluded from the competition.

As might have been expected of men whose amusements
and comfortable subsistence equally depended on skill in
the use of their weapons, it was soon found that they were
all sufficiently expert to hit the bull's-eye, or the white
spot in the centre of the target.  Others who succeeded
them, it is true, were less sure, their bullets striking in the
different circles that surrounded the centre of the target
without touching it.

According to the rules of the day, none could proceed
to the second trial who had failed in the first, and the ad-
jutant of the place, who acted as master of the ceremonies,
or marshal of the day, called upon the successful adven-
turers by name to get ready for the next effort, while he
gave notice that those who failed to present themselves for
the shot at the bull's-eye would necessarily be excluded
from all the higher trials.  Just at this moment Lundie,
the Quartermaster, and Jasper Eau-douce appeared in the
group at the stand, while the Pathfinder walked leisurely
on the ground without his beloved rifle, for him a measure
so unusual, as to be understood by all present as a proof
that he did not consider himself a competitor for the
honors of the day.  All made way for Major Duncan, who,
as he approached the stand in a good-humored way, took
his station, levelled his rifle carelessly, and fired.  The
bullet missed the required mark by several inches.

"Major Duncan is excluded from the other trials!"
proclaimed the Adjutant, in a voice so stroug and confi-
dent that all the elder officers and the sergeants well un-
derstood that this failure was preconcerted, while all the
younger gentlemen and the privates felt new encourage-
ment to proceed on account of the evident impartiality
with which the laws of the sports were administered.

"Now, Master Eau-douce, comes your turn," said Muir;
"and if you do not beat the Major, I shall say that your
hand is better skilled with the oar than with the rifle."

Jasper's handsome face flushed, he stepped upon the
stand, cast a hasty glance at Mabel, whose pretty form he
ascertained was bending eagerly forward as if to note the
result, dropped the barrel of his rifle with but little ap-
parent care into the palm of his left hand, raised the muzzle
for a single instant with exceeding steadiness, and fired.
The bullet passed directly through the centre of the bull's-
eye, much the best shot of the morning, since the others
had merely touched the paint.

"Well performed, Master Jasper," said Muir, as soon as
the result was declared; "and a shot that might have
done credit to an older head and a more experienced eye.
I'm thinking, notwithstanding, there was some of a young-
ster's luck in it; for ye were no' partic'lar in the aim ye
took.  Ye may be quick, Eau-douce, in the movement,
but yer not philosophic nor scientific in yer management
of the weepon.  Now, Sergeant Dunham, I'll thank you
to request the ladies to give a closer attention than com-
mon; for I'm about to make that use of the rifle which
may be called the intellectual.  Jasper would have killed,
I allow; but then there would not have been half the sat-
isfaction in receiving such a shot as in receiving one that
is discharged scientifically."

All this time the Quartermaster was preparing himself
for the scientific trial; but he delayed his aim until he saw
that the eye of Mabel, in common with those of her com-
panions, was fastened on him in curiosity.  As the others
left him room, out of respect to his rank, no one stood
near the competitor but his commanding officer, to whom
he now said in his familiar manner, --

"Ye see, Lundie, that something is to be gained by ex-
citing a female's curiosity.  It's an active sentiment is
curiosity, and properly improved may lead to gentler in-
novations in the end."

"Very true, Davy; but ye keep us all waiting while ye
make your preparations; and here is Pathfinder drawing
near to catch a lesson from your greater experience."

"Well Pathfinder, and so _you_ have come to get an idea
too, concerning the philosophy of shooting?  I do not wish
to hide my light under a bushel, and yer welcome to all
ye'll learn.  Do ye no' mean to try a shot yersel', man?"

"Why should I, Quartermaster, why should I?  I want
none of the prizes; and as for honor, I have had enough
of that, if it's any honor to shoot better than yourself.
I'm not a woman to wear a calash."

"Very true; but ye might find a woman that is precious
in your eyes to wear it for ye, as -- -- "

"Come, Davy," interrupted the Major, "your shot or a
retreat.  The Adjutant is getting impatient."

"The Quartermaster's department and the Adjutant's
department are seldom compliable, Lundie; but I m ready.
Stand a little aside, Pathfinder, and give the ladies an op-
portunity."

Lieutenant Muir now took his attitude with a good deal
of studied elegance, raised his rifle slowly, lowered it, raised
it again, repeated the manmuvres, and fired.

"Missed the target altogether!" shouted the man whose
duty it was to mark the bullets, and who had little relish
for the Quartermaster's tedious science.  "Missed the
target!"

"It cannot be!" cried Muir, his face flushing equally
with indignation and shame; "it cannot be, Adjutant; for
I never did so awkward a thing in my life.  I appeal to
the ladies for a juster judgment."

"The ladies shut their eyes when you fired!" exclaimed
the regimental wags.  "Your preparations alarmed them."

"I will na believe such calumny of the leddies, nor sic'
a reproach on my own skill," returned the Quartermaster,
growing more and more Scotch as he warmed with his
feelings; "it's a conspiracy to rob a meritorious man of
his dues."

"It's a dead miss, Muir," said the laughing Lundie;
"and ye'll jist sit down quietly with the disgrace."

"No, no, Major," Pathfinder at length observed; "the
Quartermaster _is_ a good shot for a slow one and a measured
distance, though nothing extr'ornary for real service.  He
has covered Jasper's bullet, as will be seen, if any one will
take the trouble to examine the target."

The respect for Pathfinder's skill and for his quickness
and accuracy of sight was so profound and general, that,
the instant he made this declaration, the spectators began
to distrust their own opinions, and a dozen rushed to the
target in order to ascertain the fact.  There, sure enough,
it was found that the Quartermaster's bullet had gone
through the hole made by Jasper's, and that, too, so ac-
curately as to require a minute examination to be certain
of the circumstance; which, however, was soon clearly
established, by discovering one bullet over the other in the
stump against which the target was placed.

"I told ye, ladies, ye were about to witness the influence
of science on gunnery," said the Quartermaster, advancing
towards the staging occupied by the females.  "Major
Duncan derides the idea of mathematics entering into
target-shooting; but I tell him philosophy colors, and en-
larges, and improves, and dilates, and explains everything
that belongs to human life, whether it be a shooting-match
or a sermon.  In a word, philosophy is philosophy, and
that is saying all that the subject requires."

"I trust you exclude love from the catalogue," observed
the wife of a captain who knew the history of the Quarter-
master's marriages, and who had a woman's malice against
the monopolizer of her sex; "it seems that philosophy has
little in common with love."

"You wouldn't say that, madam, if your heart had ex-
perienced many trials.  It's the man or the woman that
has had many occasions to improve the affections that can
best speak of such matters; and, believe me, of all love,
philosophical is the most lasting, as it is the most rational."

"You would then recommend experience as an improve-
ment on the passion?"

"Your quick mind has conceived the idea at a glance.
The happiest marriages are those in which youth and
beauty and confidence on one side, rely on the sagacity,
moderation, and prudence of years-middle age, I mean,
madam, for I'll no' deny that there is such a thing as a
husband's being too old for a wife.  Here is Sergeant
Dunham's charming daughter, now, to approve of such
sentiments, I'm certain; her character for discretion being
already well established in the garrison, short as has been
her residence among us."

"Sergeant Dunham's daughter is scarcely a fitting in-
terlocutor in a discourse between you and me, Lieutenant
Muir," rejoined the captain's lady, with careful respect for
her own dignity; "and yonder is the Pathfinder about to
take his chance, by way of changing the subject."

"I protest, Major Duncan, I protest," cried Muir hur-
rying back towards the stand, with both arms elevated by
way of enforcing his words, -- "I protest in the strongest
terms, gentlemen, against Pathfinder's being admitted into
these sports with Killdeer, which is a piece, to say nothing
of long habit that is altogether out of proportion for a
trial of skill against Government rifles."

"Killdeer is taking its rest, Quartermaster," returned
Pathfinder calmly, "and no one here thinks of disturbing
it.  I did not think, myself, of pulling a trigger to-day;
but Sergeant Dunham has been persuading me that I shall
not do proper honor to his handsome daughter, who came
in under my care, if I am backward on such an occasion.
I'm using Jasper's rifle, Quartermaster, as you may see,
and that is no better than your own."

Lieutenant Muir was now obliged to acquiesce, and every
eye turned towards the Pathfinder, as he took the required
station.  The air and attitude of this celebrated guide and
hunter were extremely fine, as he raised his tall form and
levelled the piece, showing perfect self-command, and a
through knowledge of the power of the human frame as
well as of the weapon.  Pathfinder was not what is usually
termed a handsome man, though his appearance excited so
much confidence and commanded respect.  Tall, and even
muscular, his frame might have been esteemed nearly per-
fect, were it not for the total absence of everything like
flesh.  Whipcord was scarcely more rigid than his arms
and legs, or, at need, more pliable; but the outlines of his
person were rather too angular for the proportion that the
eye most approves.  Still, his motions, being natural, were
graceful, and, being calm and regulated, they gave him an
air and dignity that associated well with the idea, which
was so prevalent, of his services and peculiar merits.  His
honest, open features were burnt to a bright red, that
comported well with the notion of exposure and hardships,
while his sinewy hands denoted force, and a species of use
removed from the stiffening and deforming effects of
labor.  Although no one perceived any of those gentler or
more insinuating qualities which are apt to win upon a
woman's affections, as he raised his rifle not a female eye
was fastened on him without a silent approbation of the
freedom of his movements and the manliness of his air.
Thought was scarcely quicker than his aim; and, as the
smoke floated above his head, the butt-end of the rifle was
seen on the ground, the hand of the Pathfinder was lean-
ing on the barrel, and his honest countenance was illu-
minated by his usual silent, hearty laugh.

"If one dared to hint at such a thing," cried Major
Duncan, "I should say that the Pathfinder had also missed
the target."

"No, no, Major," returned the guide confidently; "that
_would_ be a risky declaration.  I didn't load the piece, and
can't say what was in it; but if it was lead, you will find
the bullet driving down those of the Quartermaster and
Jasper, else is not my name Pathfinder."

A shout from the target announced the truth of this
assertion.

"That's not all, that's not all, boys," called out the
guide, who was now slowly advancing towards the stage
occupied by the females; "if you find the target touched
at all, I'll own to a miss.  The Quartermaster cut the wood,
but you'll find no wood cut by that last messenger."

"Very true, Pathfinder, very true," answered Muir, who
was lingering near Mabel, though ashamed to address her
particularly in the presence of the officers' wives.  "The
Quartermaster did cut the wood, and by that means he
opened a passage for your bullet, which went through the
hole he had made."

"Well, Quartermaster, there goes the nail and we'll see
who can drive it closer, you or I; for, though I did not
think of showing what a rifle can do to-day, now my hand
is in, I'll turn my back to no man that carries King
George's commission.  Chingachgook is outlying, or he
might force me into some of the niceties of the art; but,
as for you, Quartermaster, if the nail don't stop you, the
potato will."

"You're over boastful this morning, Pathfinder; but
you'll find you've no green boy fresh from the settlements
and the towns to deal with, I will assure ye!"

"I know that well, Quartermaster; I know that well,
and shall not deny your experience.  You've lived many
years on the frontiers, and I've heard of you in the col-
onies, and among the Indians, too, quite a human life ago."

"Na, na," interrupted Muir in his broadest Scotch,
"this is injustice, man.  I've no' lived so very long,
neither."

"I'll do you justice, Lieutenant, even if you get the best
in the potato trial.  I say you've passed a good human life,
for a soldier, in places where the rifle is daily used, and I
know you are a creditable and ingenious marksman; but
then you are not a true rifle-shooter.  As for boasting, I
hope I'm not a vain talker about my own exploits; but a
man's gifts are his gifts, and it's flying in the face of Prov-
idence to deny them.  The Sergeant's daughter, here,
shall judge between us, if you have the stomach to submit
to so pretty a judge."

The Pathfinder had named Mabel as the arbiter because
he admired her, and because, in his eyes, rank had little or
no value; but Lieutenant Muir shrank at such a reference
in the presence of the wives of the officers.  He would
gladly keep himself constantly before the eyes and the
imagination of the object of his wishes; but he was still
too much under the influence of old prejudices, and per-
haps too wary, to appear openly as her suitor, unless he
saw something very like a certainty of success.  On the
discretion of Major Duncan he had a full reliance, and he
apprehended no betrayal from that quarter; but he was
quite aware, should it ever get abroad that he had been
refused by the child of a non-commissioned officer, he
would find great difficulty in making his approaches to any
other woman of a condition to which he might reasonably
aspire.  Notwithstanding these doubts and misgivings,
Mabel looked so prettily, blushed so charmingly, smiled so
sweetly, and altogether presented so winning a picture of
youth, spirit, modesty, and beauty, that he found it ex-
ceedingly tempting to be kept so prominently before her
imagination, and to be able to address her freely.

"You shall have it your own way, Pathfinder," he an-
swered, as soon as his doubts had settled down into de-
termination; "let the, Sergeant's daughter -- his charming
daughter, I should have termed her -- be the umpire then;
and to her we will both dedicate the prize, that one or the
other must certainly win.  Pathfinder must be humored,
ladies, as you perceive, else, no doubt, we should have had
the honor to submit ourselves to one of your charming
society."

A call for the competitors now drew the Quartermaster
and his adversary away, and in a few moments the second
trial of skill commenced.  A common wrought nail was
driven lightly into the target, its head having been first
touched with paint, and the marksman was required to hit
it, or he lost his chances in the succeeding trials.  No one
was permitted to enter, on this occasion, who had already
failed in the essay against the bull's-eye.

There might have been half a dozen aspirants for the
honors of this trial; one or two, who had barely succeeded
in touching the spot of paint in the previous strife, pre-
ferring to rest their reputations there, feeling certain that
they could not succeed in the greater effort that was now
exacted of them.  The first three adventurers failed, all
coming very near the mark, but neither touching it.
The fourth person whb presented himself was the Quarter-
master, who, after going through his usual attitudes, so far
succeeded as to carry away a small portion of the head of
the nail, planting his bullet by the side of its point.  This
was not considered an extraordinary shot, though it
brought the adventurer within the category.

"You've saved your bacon, Quartermaster, as they say
in the settlements of their creaturs," cried Pathfinder,
laughing; "but it would take a long time to build a house
with a hammer no better than yours.  Jasper, here, will
show you how a nail is to be started, or the lad has lost
some of his steadiness of hand and sartainty of eye.  You
would have done better yourself, Lieutenant, had you not
been so much bent on soldierizing your figure.  Shooting
is a natural gift, and is to be exercised in a natural way."

"We shall see, Pathfinder; I call that a pretty attempt
at a nail; and I doubt if the 55th has another hammer, as
you call it, that can do just the same thing over again."

"Jasper is not in the 55th, but there goes his rap."

As the Pathfinder spoke, the bullet of Eau-douce hit the
nail square, and drove it into the target, within an inch of
the head.

"Be all ready to clench it, boys!" cried out Pathfinder,
stepping into his friend's tracks the instant they were
vacant.  "Never mind a new nail; I can see that, though
the paint is gone, and what I can see I can hit, at a hun-
dred yards, though it were only a mosquito's eye.  Be
ready to clench!"

The rifle cracked, the bullet sped its way, and the head
of the nail was buried in the wood, covered by the piece
of flattened lead.

"Well, Jasper, lad," continued Pathfinder, dropping the
butt-end of his rifle to the ground, and resuming the dis-
course, as if he thought nothing of his own exploit, "you
improve daily.  A few more tramps on land in my com-
pany, and the best marksman on the frontiers will have
occasion to look keenly when he takes his stand ag'in you.
The Quartermaster is respectable, but he will never get any
farther; whereas you, Jasper, have the gift, and may one
day defy any who pull trigger."

"Hoot, hoot!" exclaimed Muir; "do you call hitting
the head of the nail respectable only, when it's the per-
fection of the art?  Any one the least refined and elevated
in sentiment knows that the delicate touches denote the
master; whereas your sledge-hammer blows come from the
rude and uninstructed.  If 'a miss is as good as a mile,' a
hit ought to be better, Pathfinder, whether it wound or
kill."

"The surest way of settling this rivalry will be to make
another trial," observed Lundie, "and that will be of the
potato.  You're Scotch, Mr. Muir, and might fare better
were it a cake or a thistle; but frontier law has declared
for the American fruit, and the potato it shall be."

As Major Duncan manifested some impatience of man-
ner, Muir had too much tact to delay the sports any longer
with his discursive remarks, but judiciously prepared him-
self for the next appeal.  To say the truth, the Quarter-
master had little or no faith in his own success in the
trial of skill that was to follow, nor would he have been so
free in presenting himself as a competitor at all had he an-
ticipated it would have been made; but Major Duncan,
who was somewhat of a humorist in his own quiet Scotch
way, had secretly ordered it to be introduced expressly to
mortify him; for, a laird himself, Lundie did not relish
the notion that one who might claim to be a gentleman
should bring discredit on his caste by forming an unequal
alliance.  As soon as everything was prepared, Muir was
summoned to the stand, and the potato was held in readi-
ness to be thrown.  As the sort of feat we are about to
offer to the reader, however, may be new to him, a word in
explanation will render the matter more clear.  A potato
of large size was selected, and given to one who stood at
the distance of twenty yards from the stand.  At the word
"heave!" which was given by the marksman, the vegetable
was thrown with a gentle toss into the air, and it was the
business of the adventurer to cause a ball to pass through
it before it reached the ground.

The Quartermaster, in a hundred experiments, had once
succeeded in accomplishing this difficult feat; but he now
essayed to perform it again, with a sort of blind hope that
was fated to be disappointed.  The potato was thrown in
the usual manner, the rifle was discharged, but the flying
target was untouched.

"To the right-about, and fall out, Quartermaster," said
Lundie, smiling at the success of the artifice.  "The honor
of the silken calash will lie between Jasper Eau-douce and
Pathfinder."

"And how is the trial to end, Major?" inquired the
latter.  "Are we to have the two-potato trial, or is it to be
settled by centre and skin?"

"By centre and skin, if there is any perceptible differ-
ence; otherwise the double shot must follow."

"This is an awful moment to me, Pathfinder," observed
Jasper, as he moved towards the stand, his face actually
losing its color in intensity of feeling.

Pathfinder gazed earnestly at the young man; and then,
begging Major Duncan to have patience for a moment, he
led his friend out of the hearing of all near him before he
spoke.

"You seem to take this matter to heart, Jasper?" the
hunter remarked, keeping his eyes fastened on those of
the youth.

"I must own, Pathfinder, that my feelings were never
before so much bound up in success."

"And do you so much crave to outdo me, an old and
tried friend? -- and that, as it might be, in my own way?
Shooting is my gift, boy, and no common hand can equal
mine."

"I know it -- I know it, Pathfinder; but yet -- "

"But what, Jasper, boy? -- speak freely; you talk to a
friend."

The young man compressed his lips, dashed a hand
across his eye, and flushed and paled alternately, like a
girl confessing her love.  Then, squeezing the other's
hand, he said calmly, like one whose manhood has over-
come all other sensations, "I would lose an arm, Path-
finder, to be able to make an offering of that calash to
Mabel Dunham."

The hunter dropped his eyes to the ground, and as he
walked slowly back towards the stand, he seemed to ponder
deeply on what he had just heard.

"You never could succeed in the double trial, Jasper!"
he suddenly remarked.

"Of that I am certain, and it troubles me."

"What a creature is mortal man! he pines for things
which are not of his gift and treats the bounties of Provi-
dence lightly.  No matter, no matter.  Take your station,
Jasper, for the Major is waiting; and harke, lad, -- I must
touch the skin, for I could not show my face in the garri-
son with less than that."

"I suppose I must submit to my fate," returned Jasper,
flushing and losing his color as before; "but I will make
the effort, if I die."

"What a thing is mortal man!" repeated Pathfinder,
falling back to allow his friend room to take his arm; "he
overlooks his own gifts, and craves those of another!"

The potato was thrown, Jasper fired, and the shout that
followed preceded the announcement of the fact that he
had driven his bullet through its centre, or so nearly so as
to merit that award.

"Here is a competitor worthy of you, Pathfinder," cried
Major Duncan with delight, as the former took his station;
"and we may look to some fine shooting in the double
trial."

"What a thing is mortal man!" repeated the hunter,
scarcely seeming to notice what was passing around him,
so much were his thoughts absorbed in his own reflections.
"Toss!"

The potato was tossed, the rifle cracked, -- it was re-
marked just as the little black ball seemed stationary in
the air, for the marksman evidently took unusual heed to
his aim, -- and then a look of disappointment and wonder
succeeded among those who caught the falling target.

"Two holes in one?" called out the Major.

"The skin, the skin!" was the answer; "only the skin!"

"How's this, Pathfinder?  Is Jasper Eau-douce to carry
off the honors of the day?"

"The calash is his," returned the other, shaking his
head and walking quietly away from the stand.  "What a
creature is mortal man! never satisfied with his own gifts,
but for ever craving that which Providence denies!"

As Pathfinder had not buried his bullet in the potato,
but had cut through the skin, the prize was immediately
adjudged to Jasper.  The calash was in the hands of the
latter when the Quartermaster approached, and with a
polite air of cordiality he wished his successful rival joy of
his victory.

"But now you've got the calash, lad, it's of no use to
you," he added; "it will never make a sail, nor even an
ensign.  I'm thinking, Eau-douce, you'd no' be sorry to
see its value in good siller of the king?"

"Money cannot buy it, Lieutenant," returned Jasper,
whose eye lighted with all the fire of success and joy.  "I
would rather have won this calash than have obtained fifty
new suits of sails for the _Scud!_"

"Hoot, hoot, lad! you are going mad like all the rest of
them.  I'd even venture to offer half a guinea for the trifle
rather than it should lie kicking about in the cabin of
your cutter, and in the end become an ornament for the
head of a squaw."

Although Jasper did not know that the wary Quarter-
master had not offered half the actual cost of the prize, he
heard the proposition with indifference.  Shaking his head
in the negative, he advanced towards the stage, where his
approach excited a little commotion, the officers' ladies,
one and all, having determined to accept the present,
should the gallantry of the young sailor induce him to
offer it.  But Jasper's diffidence, no less than admiration
for another, would have prevented him from aspiring to
the honor of complimenting any whom he thought so
much his superiors.

"Mabel," said he, "this prize is for you, unless -- "

"Unless what, Jasper?" answered the girl, losing her
own bashfulness in the natural and generous wish to re-
lieve his embarrassment, though both reddened in a way
to betray strong feeling.

"Unless you may think too indifferently of it, because
it is offered by one who may have no right to believe his
gift will be accepted."

"I do accept it, Jasper; and it shall be a sign of the
danger I have passed in your company, and of the grati-
tude I feel for your care of me -- your care, and that of the
Pathfinder."

"Never mind me, never mind me!" exclaimed the latter;
"this is Jasper's luck, and Jasper's gift: give him full
credit for both.  My turn may come another day; mine
and the Quartermaster's, who seems to grudge the boy the
calash; though what _he_ can want of it I cannot under-
stand, for he has no wife."

"And has Jasper Eau-douce a wife? or have you a wife
yoursel', Pathfinder?  I may want it to help to get a
wife, or as a memorial that I have had a wife, or as proof
how much I admire the sex, or because it is a female gar-
ment, or for some other equally respectable motive.  It's
not the unreflecting that are the most prized by the
thoughtful, and there is no surer sign that a man made a
good husband to his first consort, let me tell you all, than
to see him speedily looking round for a competent suc-
cessor.  The affections are good gifts from Providence,
and they that have loved one faithfully prove how much
of this bounty has been lavished upon them by loving an-
other as soon as possible."

"It may be so, it may be so.  I am no practitioner in
such things, and cannot gainsay it.  But Mabel here, the
Sergeant's daughter, will give you full credit for the words.
Come, Jasper, although our hands are out, let us see what
the other lads can do with the rifle."

Pathfinder and his companions retired, for the sports
were about to proceed.  The ladies, however, were not so
much engrossed with rifle-shooting as to neglect the calash.
It passed from hand to hand; the silk was felt, the fashion
criticized, and the work examined, and divers opinions
were privately ventured concerning the fitness of so hand-
some a thing passing into the possession of a non-commis-
sioned officer's child.

"Perhaps you will be disposed to sell that calash, Mabel,
when it has been a short time in your possession?" in-
quired the captain's lady.  "Wear it, I should think, you
never can."

"I may not wear it, madam," returned our heroine
modestly; "but I should not like to part with it either."

"I daresay Sergeant Dunham keeps you above the ne-
cessity of selling your clothes, child; but, at the same time,
it is money thrown away to keep an article of dress you
can never wear."

"I should be unwilling to part with the gift of a friend."

"But the young man himself will think all the better
of you for your prudence after the triumph of the day is
forgotten.  It is a pretty and a becoming calash, and ought
not to be thrown away."

"I've no intention to throw it away, ma'am; and, if
you please, would rather keep it."

"As you will, child; girls of your age often overlook
the real advantages.  Remember, however, if you do de-
termine to dispose of the thing, that it is bespoke, and that
I will not take it if you ever even put it on your own head."

"Yes, ma'am," said Mabel, in the meekest voice imagin-
able, though her eyes looked like diamonds, and her cheeks
reddened to the tints of two roses, as she placed the for-
bidden garment over her well-turned shoulders, where she
kept it a minute, as if to try its fitness, and then quietly
removed it again.

The remainder of the sports offered nothing of interest.
The shooting was reasonably good; but the trials were all
of a scale lower than those related, and the competitors
were soon left to themselves.  The ladies and most of the
officers withdrew, and the remainder of the females soon
followed their example.  Mabel was returning along the
low flat rocks that line the shore of the lake, dangling her
pretty calash from a prettier finger, when Pathfinder met
her.  He carried the rifle which he had used that day; but
his manner had less of the frank ease of the hunter about
it than usual, while his eye seemed roving and uneasy.
After a few unmeaning words concerning the noble sheet
of water before them, he turned towards his companion
with strong interest in his countenance, and said, --

"Jasper earned that calash for you, Mabel, without much
trial of his gifts."

"It was fairly done, Pathfinder."

"No doubt, no doubt.  The bullet passed neatly through
the potato, and no man could have done more; though
others might have done as much."

"But no one did as much!" exclaimed Mabel, with an
animation that she instantly regretted; for she saw by the
pained look of the guide that he was mortified equally by
the remark and by the feeling with which it was uttered.

"It is true, it is true, Mabel, no one did as much then;
but -- yet there is no reason I should deny my gifts which
come from Providence -- yes, yes; no one did as much
there, but you shall know what _can_ be done here.  Do you
observe the gulls that are flying over our heads?"

"Certainly, Pathfinder; there are too many to escape
notice."

"Here, where they cross each other in sailing about,"
he added, cocking and raising his rifle; "the two -- the two.
Now look!"

The piece was presented quick as thought, as two of the
birds came in a line, though distant from each other many
yards; the report followed, and the bullet passed through
the bodies of both victims.  No sooner had the gulls
fallen into the lake, than Pathfinder dropped the butt-end
of the rifle, and laughed in his own peculiar manner, every
shade of dissatisfaction and mortified pride having left his
honest face.

"That is something, Mabel, that is something; although
I have no calash to give you!  But ask Jasper himself; I'll
leave it all to Jasper, for a truer tongue and heart are not
in America."

"Then it was not Jasper's fault that he gained the
prize?"

"Not it.  He did his best, and he did well.  For one
that has water gifts, rather than land gifts, Jasper is un-
commonly expert, and a better backer no one need wish,
ashore or afloat.  But it was my fault, Mabel, that he got
the calash; though it makes no difference -- it makes no
difference, for the thing has gone to the right person."

"I believe I understand you, Pathfinder," said Mabel,
blushing in spite of herself, "and I look upon the calash
as the joint gift of yourself and Jasper."

"That would not be doing justice to the lad, neither.
He won the garment, and had a right to give it away.  The
most you may think, Mabel, is to believe that, had I won
it, it would have gone to the same person."

"I will remember that, Pathfinder, and take care that
others know your skill, as it has been proved upon the
poor gulls in my presence."

"Lord bless you, Mabel! there is no more need of your
talking in favor of my shooting on this frontier, than of
your talking about the water in the lake or the sun in the
heavens.  Everybody knows what I can do in that way,
and your words would be thrown away, as much as French
would be thrown away on an American bear."

"Then you think that Jasper knew you were giving
him this advantage, of which he had so unhandsomely
availed himself?" said Mabel, the color
which had im-
parted so much lustre to her eyes gradually leaving her
face, which became grave and thoughtful.

"I do not say that, but very far from it.  We all forget
things that we have known, when eager after our wishes.
Jasper is satisfied that I can pass one bullet through two
potatoes, as I sent my bullet through the gulls; and he
knows no other man on the frontier can do the same thing.
But with the calash before his eyes, and the hope of giving
it to you, the lad was inclined to think better of himself,
just at that moment, perhaps, than he ought.  No, no,
there's nothing mean or distrustful about Jasper Eau-
douce, though it is a gift natural to all young men to wish
to appear well in the eyes of handsome young women."

"I'll try to forget all, but the kindness you've both
shown to a poor motherless girl," said Mabel, struggling
to keep down emotions she scarcely knew how to account
for herself.  "Believe me, Pathfinder, I can never forget
all you have already done for me -- you and Jasper; and
this new proof of your regard is not thrown away.  Here,
here is a brooch that is of silver, and I offer it as a token
that I owe you life or liberty."

"What shall I do with this, Mabel?" asked the bewil-
dered hunter, holding the simple trinket in his hand.  "I
have neither buckle nor button about me, for I wear
nothing but leathern strings, and them of good deer-skins.
It's pretty to the eye, but it is prettier far on the spot it
came from than it can be about me."

"Nay, put it in your hunting-shirt; it will become it
well.  Remember, Pathfinder, that it is a token of friend-
ship between us, and a sign that I can never forget you or
your services."

Mabel then smiled an adieu; and, bounding up the
bank, she was soon lost to view behind the mound of the
fort.



CHAPTER XII.

Lo! dusky masses steal in dubious sight,
  Along the leaguer'd wall, and bristling bank,
Of the arm'd river; while with straggling light,
  The stars peep through the vapor, dim and dank.
BYRON.


A few hours later Mabel Dunham was on the bastion
that overlooked the river and the lake, seemingly in deep
thought.  The evening was calm and soft, and the ques-
tion had arisen whether the party for the Thousand Islands
would be able to get out that night or not, on account of
the total absence of wind.  The stores, arms, and ammuni-
tion were already shipped, and even Mabel's effects were
on board; but the small draft of men that was to go was
still ashore, there being no apparent prospect of the cutter's
getting under way.  Jasper had warped the _Scud_ out of
the cove, and so far up the stream as to enable him to pass
through the outlet of the river whenever he chose; but
there he still lay, riding at single anchor.  The drafted
men were lounging about the shore of the cove, undecided
whether or not to pull off.

The sports of the morning had left a quiet in the garri-
son which was in harmony with the whole of the beautiful
scene, and Mabel felt its influence on her feelings, though
probably too little accustomed to speculate on such sensa-
tions to be aware of the cause.  Everything near appeared
lovely and soothing, while the solemn grandeur of the
silent forest and placid expanse of the lake lent a sub-
limity that other scenes might have wanted.  For the first
time, Mabel felt the hold that the towns and civilization
had gained on her habits sensibly weakened; and the
warm-hearted girl began to think that a life passed amid
objects such as those around her might be happy.  How
far the experience of the last days came in aid of the calm
and holy eventide, and contributed towards producing that
young conviction, may be suspected, rather than affirmed,
in this early portion of our legend.

"A charming sunset, Mabel!" said the hearty voice of
her uncle, so close to the ear of our heroine as to cause her
to start, -- "a charming sunset, girl, for a fresh-water con-
cern, though we should think but little of it at sea."

"And is not nature the same on shore or at sea -- on a
lake like this or on the ocean?  Does not the sun shine on
all alike, dear uncle; and can we not feel gratitude for the
blessings of Providence as strongly on this remote frontier
as in our own Manhattan?"

"The girl has fallen in with some of her mother's books.
Is not nature the same, indeed!  Now, Mabel, do you
imagine that the nature of a soldier is the same as that of
a seafaring man?  You've relations in both callings, and
ought to be able to answer."

"But uncle, I mean human nature."

"So do I, girl; the human nature of a seaman, and the
human nature of one of these fellows of the 55th, not
even excepting your own father.  Here have they had a
shooting-match -- target-firing I should call it -- this day,
and what a different thing has it been from a target-firing
afloat!  There we should have sprung our broadside,
sported with round shot, at an object half a mile off, at
the very nearest; and the potatoes, if there happened to
be any on board, as very likely would not have been the
case, would have been left in the cook's coppers.  It may
be an honorable calling, that of a soldier, Mabel; but an
experienced hand sees many follies and weaknesses in one
of these forts.  As for that bit of a lake, you know my
opinion of it already, and I wish to disparage nothing.  No
real seafarer disparages anything; but, d--- me, if I regard
this here Ontario, as they call it, as more than so much
water in a ship's scuttle-butt.  Now, look you here, Mabel,
if you wish to understand the difference between the ocean
and a lake, I can make you comprehend it with a single
look: this is what one may call a calm, seeing that there
is no wind; though, to own the truth, I do not think the
calms are as calm as them we get outside -- "

"Uncle, there is not a breath of air.  I do not think it
possible for the leaves to be more immovably still than
those of the entire forest are at this very moment."

"Leaves! what are leaves, child? there are no leaves at
sea.  If you wish to know whether it is a dead calm or
not, try a mould candle, -- your dips flaring too much, --
and then you may be certain whether there is or is not any
wind.  If you were in a latitude where the air was so still
that you found a difficulty in stirring it to draw it in in
breathing, you might fancy it a calm.  People are often
on a short allowance of air in the calm latitudes.  Here,
again, look at that water!  It is like milk in a pan, with
no more motion now than there is in a full hogshead before
the bung is started.  On the ocean the water is never still,
let the air be as quiet as it may."

"The water of the ocean never still, Uncle Cap? not
even in a calm?"

"Bless your heart, no, child!  The ocean breathes like
a living being, and its bosom is always heaving, as the
poetizers call it, though there be no more air than is to be
found in a siphon.  No man ever saw the ocean still like
this lake; but it heaves and sets as if it had lungs."

"And this lake is not absolutely still, for you perceive
there is a little ripple on the shore, and you may even hear
the surf plunging at moments against the rocks."

"All d----d poetry!  Lake Ontario is no more the Atlantic
than a Powles Hook periagila is a first-rate.  That Jasper,
notwithstanding, is a fine lad, and wants instruction only
to make a man of him."

"Do you think him ignorant, uncle?" answered Mabel,
prettily adjusting her hair, in order to do which she was
obliged, or fancied she was obliged, to turn away her face.
"To me Jasper Eau-douce appears to know more than
most of the young men of his class.  He has read but
little, for books are not plenty in this part of the world;
but he has thought much, as least so it seems to me, for
one so young."

"He is ignorant, as all must be who navigate an inland
water like this.  No, no, Mabel; we both owe something
to Jasper and the Pathfinder, and I have been thinking
how I can best serve them, for I hold ingratitude to be
the vice of a hog; for treat the animal to your own dinner,
and he would eat you for the dessert."

"Very true, dear uncle; we ought indeed to do all we
can to express our proper sense of the services of both these
brave men."

"Spoken like your mother's daughter, girl, and in a way
to do credit to the Cap family.  Now, I've hit upon a
traverse that will just suit all parties; and, as soon as we
get back from this little expedition down the lake among
them there Thousand Islands, and I am ready to return, it
is my intention to propose it."

"Dearest uncle! this is so considerate in you, and will
be so just!  May I ask what your intentions are?"

"I see no reason for keeping them a secret from you,
Mabel, though nothing need be said to your father about
them; for the Sergeant has his prejudices, and might
throw difficulties in the way.  Neither Jasper nor his
friend Pathfinder can ever make anything hereabouts, and
I propose to take both with me down to the coast, and get
them fairly afloat.  Jasper would find his sea-legs in a fort-
night, and a twelvemonth's v'y'ge would make him a man.
Although Pathfinder might take more time, or never get
to be rated able, yet one could make something of him
too, particularly as a look-out, for he has unusually good
eyes."

"Uncle, do you think either would consent to this?"
said Mabel smiling.

"Do I suppose them simpletons? what rational being
would neglect his own advancement?  Let Jasper alone to
push his way, and the lad may yet die the master of some
square-rigged craft."

"And would he be any the happier for it, dear uncle?
How much better is it to be the master of a square-rigged
craft than to be master of a round-rigged craft?"

"Pooh, pooh, Magnet! you are just fit to read lectures
about ships before some hysterical society; you don't know
what you are talking about; leave these things to me, and
they'll be properly managed.  Ah! here is the Pathfinder
himself, and I may just as well drop him a hint of my
benevolent intentions as regards himself.  Hope is a great
encourager of our exertions."

Cap nodded his head, and then ceased to speak, while
the hunter approached, not with his usual frank and easy
manner, but in a way to show that he was slightly em-
barrassed, if not distrustful of his reception.

"Uncle and niece make a family party," said Pathfinder,
when near the two, "and a stranger may not prove a wel-
come companion?"

"You are no stranger, Master Pathfinder," returned
Cap, "and no one can be more welcome than yourself.
We were talking of you but a moment ago, and when
friends speak of an absent man, he can guess what they
have said."

"I ask no secrets.  Every man has his enemies, and I
have mine, though I count neither you, Master Cap, nor
pretty Mabel here among the number.  As for the Mingos,
I will say nothing, though they have no just cause to hate
me."

"That I'll answer for, Pathfinder! for you strike my
fancy as being well-disposed and upright.  There is a
method, however, of getting away from the enmity of even
these Mingos; and if you choose to take it, no one will
more willingly point it out than myself, without a charge
for my advice either."

"I wish no enemies, Saltwater," for so the Pathfinder
had begun to call Cap, having, insensibly to himself,
adopted the term, by translating the name given him by
the Indians in and about the fort, -- "I wish no enemies.
I'm as ready to bury the hatchet with the Mingos as with
the French, though you know that it depends on One
greater than either of us so to turn the heart as to leave a
man without enemies."

"By lifting your anchor, and accompanying me down
to the coast, friend Pathfinder, when we get back from this
short cruise on which we are bound, you will find yourself
beyond the sound of the war-whoop, and safe enough from
any Indian bullet."

"And what should I do on the salt water?  Hunt in
your towns?  Follow the trails of people going and com-
ing from market, and ambush dogs and poultry?  You
are no friend to my happiness, Master Cap, if you would
lead me out of the shades of the woods to put me in the
sun of the clearings."

"I did not propose to leave you in the settlements,
Pathfinder, but to carry you out to sea, where a man can
only be said to breathe freely.  Mabel will tell you that
such was my intention, before a word was said on the
subject."

"And what does Mabel think would come of such a
change?  She knows that a man has his gifts, and that it
is as useless to pretend to others as to withstand them that
come from Providence.  I am a hunter, and a scout, or a
guide, Saltwater, and it is not in me to fly so much in the
face of Heaven as to try to become anything else.  Am I
right, Mabel, or are you so much a woman as to wish to
see a natur' altered?"

"I would wish to see no change in you, Pathfinder,"
Mabel answered, with a cordial sincerity and frankness
that went directly to the hunter's heart; "and much as
my uncle admires the sea, and great as is all the good that
he thinks may come of it, I could not wish to see the best
and noblest hunter of the woods transformed into an ad-
miral.  Remain what you are, my brave friend, and you
need fear nothing short of the anger of God."

"Do you hear this, Saltwater? do you hear what the
Sergeant's daughter is saying, and she is much too upright,
and fair-minded, and pretty, not to think what she says.
So long as she is satisfied with me as I am, I shall not fly
in the face of the gifts of Provideuce, by striving to become
anything else.  I may seem useless here in a garrison; but
when we get down among the Thousand Islands, there may
be an opportunity to prove that a sure rifle is sometimes a
Godsend."

"You are then to be of our party?" said Mabel, smiling
so frankly and so sweetly on the guide that he would have
followed her to the end of the earth.  "I shall be the only
female, with the exception of one soldier's wife, and shall
feel none the less secure, Pathfinder, because you will be
among our protectors."

"The Sergeant would do that, Mabel, though you were
not of his kin.  No one will overlook you.  I should think
your uncle here would like an expedition of this sort,
where we shall go with sails, and have a look at an inland
sea?"

"Your inland sea is no great matter, Master Pathfinder,
and I expect nothing from it.  I confess, however, I should
like to know the object of the cruise; for one does not
wish to be idle, and my brother-in-law, the Sergeant, is as
close-mouthed as a freemason.  Do you know, Mabel, what
all this means?"

"Not in the least, uncle.  I dare not ask my father any
questions about his duty, for he thinks it is not a woman's
business; and all I can say is, that we are to sail as soon
as the wind will permit, and that we are to be absent a
month."

"Perhaps Master Pathfinder can give me a useful hint;
for a v'y'ge without an object is never pleasant to an old
sailor."

"There is no great secret, Saltwater, concerning our
port and object, though it is forbidden to talk much about
either in the garrison.  I am no soldier, however, and can
use my tongue as I please, though as little given as another
to idle conversation, I hope; still, as we sail so soon, and
you are both to be of the party, you may as well be told
where you are to be carried.  You know that there are
such things as the Thousand Islands, I suppose, Master
Cap?"

"Ay, what are so called hereaway, though I take it for
granted that they are not real islauds, such as we fall in
with on the ocean; and that the thousand means some
such matter as two or three."

"My eyes are good, and yet have I often been foiled in
trying to count them very islands."

"Ay, ay, I've known people who couldn't count beyond
a certain number.  Your real land-birds never know their
own roosts, even in a land-fall at sea.  How many times
have I seen the beach, and houses, and churches, when the
passengers have not been able to see anything but water!
I have no idea that a man can get fairly out of sight of
land on fresh water.  The thing appears to me to be irra-
tional and impossible."

"You don't know the lakes, Master Cap, or you would
not say that.  Before we get to the Thousand Islands, you
will have other notions of what natur' has done in this
wilderness."

"I have my doubts whether you have such a thing as a
real island in all this region."

"We'll show you hundreds of them; not exactly a thou-
sand, perhaps, but so many that eye cannot see them all,
nor tongue count them."

"I'll engage, when the truth comes to be known, they'll
turn out to be nothing but peninsulas, or promontories; or
continents; though these are matters, I daresay, of which
you know little or nothing.  But, islands or no islands,
what is the object of the cruise, Master Pathfinder?"

"There can be no harm in giving you some idea of what
we are going to do.  Being so old a sailor, Master Cap,
you've heard, no doubt, of such a port as Frontenac?"

"Who hasn't?  I will not say I've ever been inside the
harbor, but I've frequently been off the place."

"Then you are about to go upon ground with which
you are acquainted.  These great lakes, you must know,
make a chain, the water passing out of one into the other,
until it reaches Erie, which is a sheet off here to the west-
ward, as large as Ontario itself.  Well, out of Erie the water
comes, until it reaches a low mountain like, over the edge
of which it passes."

"I should like to know how the devil it can do that?"

"Why, easy enough, Master Cap," returned Pathfinder,
laughing, "seeing that it has only to fall down hill.  Had
I said the water went _up_ the mountain, there would have
been natur' ag'in it; but we hold it no great matter for
water to run down hill -- that is, _fresh_ water."

"Ay, ay, but you speak of the water of a lake's coming
down the side of a mountain; it's in the teeth of reason,
if reason has any teeth."

"Well, well, we will not dispute the point; but what
I've seen I've seen.  After getting into Ontario, all the
water of _all_ the lakes passes down into the sea by a river;
and in the narrow part of the sheet, where it is neither
river nor lake, lie the islands spoken of.  Now Frontenac
is a post of the Frenchers above these same islands; and,
as they hold the garrison below, their stores and ammuni-
tion are sent up the river to Frontenac, to be forwarded
along the shores of this and the other lakes, in order to
enable the enemy to play his devilries among the savages,
and to take Christian scalps."

"And will our presence prevent these horrible acts?"
demanded Mabel, with interest.

"It may or it may not, as Providence wills.  Lundie, as
they call him, he who commands this garrison, sent a party
down to take a station among the islands, to cut off some
of the French boats; and this expedition of ours will be
the second relief.  As yet they've not done much, though
two bateaux loaded with Indian goods have been taken;
but a runner came in last week, and brought such tidings
that the Major is about to make a last effort to circumvent
the knaves.  Jasper knows the way, and we shall be in
good hands, for the Sergeant is prudent, and of the first
quality at an ambushment; yes, he is both prudent and
alert."

"Is this all?" said Cap contemptuously; "by the prep-
arations and equipments, I had thought there was a forced
trade in the wind, and that an honest penny might be
turned by taking an adventure.  I suppose there are no
shares in your fresh-water prize-money?"

"Anan?"

"I take it for granted the king gets all in these soldier-
ing parties, and ambushments, as you call them."

"I know nothing about that, Master Cap.  I take my
share of the lead and powder if any falls into our hands,
and say nothing to the king about it.  If any one fares
better, it is not I; though it is time I did begin to think
of a house and furniture and a home."

Although the Pathfinder did not dare to look at Mabel
while he made this direct allusion to his change of life, he
would have given the world to know whether she was lis-
tening, and what was the expression of her countenance.
Mabel little suspected the nature of the allusion, however;
and her countenance was perfectly unembarrassed as she
turned her eyes towards the river, where the appearance
of some movement on board the _Scud_ began to be visible.

"Jasper is bringing the cutter out," observed the guide,
whose look was drawn in the same direction by the fall of
some heavy article on the deck.  "The lad sees the signs
of wind, no doubt, and wishes to be ready for it."

"Ay, now we shall have an opportunity of learning
seamanship," returned Cap, with a sneer.  "There is a
nicety in getting a craft under her canvas that shows the
thoroughbred mariner as much as anything else.  It's like
a soldier buttoning his coat, and one can see whether he
begins at the top or the bottom."

"I will not say that Jasper is equal to your seafarers
below," observed Pathfinder, across whose upright mind
an unworthy feeling of envy or of jealousy never passed;
"but he is a bold boy, and manages his cutter as skillfully
as any man can desire, on this lake at least.  You didn't
find him backwards at the Oswego Falls, Master Cap,
where fresh water contrives to tumble down hill with little
difficulty."

Cap made no other answer than a dissatisfied ejaculation,
and then a general silence followed, all on the bastion
studying the movements of the cutter with the interest
that was natural to their own future connection with the
vessel.  It was still a dead calm, the surface of the lake
literally glittering with the last rays of the sun.  The
_Scud_ had been warped up to a kedge that lay a hundred
yards above the points of the outlet, where she had room
to manoeuvre in the river which then formed the harbor of
Oswego.  But the total want of air prevented any such at-
tempt, and it was soon evident that the light vessel was to
be taken through the passage under her sweeps.  Not a sail
was loosened; but as soon as the kedge was tripped, the
heavy fall of the sweeps was heard, when the cutter, with
her head up stream, began to sheer towards the centre of
the current; on reaching which, the efforts of the men
ceased, and she drifted towards the outlet.  In the narrow
pass itself her movement was rapid, and in less than five
minutes the _Scud_ was floating outside of the two low
gravelly points which intercepted the waves of the lake.
No anchor was let go, but the vessel continued to set off
from the land, until her dark hull was seen resting on the
glossy surface of the lake, full a quarter of a mile beyond
the low bluff which formed the eastern extremity of what
might be called the outer harbor or roadstead.  Here the
influence of the river current ceased, and she became, vir-
tually, stationary.

"She seems very beautiful to me, uncle," said Mabel,
whose gaze had not been averted from the cutter for a
single moment while it had thus been changing its posi-
tion; "I daresay you can find faults in her appearance,
and in the way she is managed; but to my ignorance both
are perfect."

"Ay, ay; she drops down with a current well enough,
girl, and so would a chip.  But when you come to niceties,
all old tar like myself has no need of spectacles to find
fault."

"Well, Master Cap," put in the guide, who seldom heard
anything to Jasper's prejudice without manifesting a dis-
position to interfere, "I've heard old and experienced salt-
water mariners confess that the _Scud_ is as pretty a craft
as floats.  I know nothing of such matters myself; but
one may have his own notions about a ship, even though
they be wrong notions; and it would take more than one
witness to persuade me Jasper does not keep his boat in
good order."

"I do not say that the cutter is downright lubberly,
Master Pathfinder; but she has faults, and great faults."

"And what are they, uncle?  If he knew them, Jasper
would be glad to mend them."

"What are they?  Why, fifty; ay, for that matter a
hundred.  Very material and manifest faults."

"Do name them, sir, and Pathfinder will mention them
to his friend."

"Name them! it is no easy matter to call off the stars,
for the simple reason that they are so numerous.  Name
them, indeed!  Why, my pretty niece, Miss Magnet, what
do you think of that main-boom now?  To my ignorant
eyes, it is topped at least a foot too high; and then the
pennant is foul; and -- and -- ay, d--- me, if there isn't a
topsail gasket adrift; and it wouldn't surprise me at all if
there should be a round turn in that hawser, if the kedge
were to be let go this instant.  Faults indeed!  No seaman
could look at her a moment without seeing that she is as
full of faults as a servant who has asked for his discharge."

"This may be very true, uncle, though I much question
if Jasper knows of them.  I do not think he would suffer
these things, Pathfinder, if they were once pointed out
to him."

"Let Jasper manage his own cutter, Mabel.  His gift
lies that-a-way, and I'll answer for it, no one can teach
him how to keep the _Scud_ out of the hands of the Fron-
tenackers or their devilish Mingo friends.  Who cares for
round turns in kedges, and for hawsers that are topped
too high, Master Cap, so long as the craft sails well, and
keeps clear of the Frenchers?  I will trust Jasper against
all the seafarers of the coast, up here on the lakes; but I
do not say he has any gift for the ocean, for there he has
never been tried."

Cap smiled condescendingly, but he did not think it
necessary to push his critisms any further just as that
moment.  By this time the cutter had begun to drift at
the mercy of the currents of the lake, her head turning in
all directions, though slowly, and not in a way to attract
particular attention.  Just at this moment the jib was
loosened and hoisted, and presently the canvas swelled
towards the land, though no evidences of air were yet to
be seen on the surface of the water.  Slight, however, as
was the impulsion, the light hull yielded; and in another
minute the _Scud_ was seen standing across the current of
the river with a movement so easy and moderate as to be
scarcely perceptible.  When out of the stream, she struck
an eddy and shot up towards the land, under the emi-
nence where the fort stood, when Jasper dropped his kedge.

"Not lubberly done," muttered Cap in a sort of solilo-
quy, -- "not over lubberly, though he should have put his
helm a-starboard instead of a-port; for a vessel ought
always to come-to with her head off shore, whether she is
a league from the land or only a cable's length, since it
has a careful look, and looks are something in this world."

"Jasper is a handy lad," suddenly observed Sergeant
Dunham at his brother-in-law's elbow; "and we place
great reliance on his skill in our expeditions.  But come,
one and all, we have but half an hour more of daylight to
embark in, and the boats will be ready for us by the time
we are ready for them."

On this intimation the whole party separated, each to
find those trifles which had not been shipped already.  A
few taps of the drum gave the necessary signal to the
soldiers, and in a minute all were in motion.



CHAPTER XIII.

The goblin now the fool alarms,
Hags meet to mumble o'er their charms,
The night-mare rides the dreaming ass,
And fairies trip it on the grass.
COTTON.


The embarkation of so small a party was a matter of
no great delay or embarrassment.  The whole force con-
fided to the care of Sergeant Dunham consisted of but ten
privates and two non-commissioned officers, though it was
soon positively known that Mr. Muir was to accompany the
expedition.  The Quartermaster, however, went as a vol-
unteer, while some duty connected with his own depart-
ment, as had been arranged between him and his com-
mander, was the avowed object.  To these must be added
the Pathfinder and Cap, with Jasper and his subordinates,
one of whom was a boy.  The party, consequently, con-
sisted of less than twenty men, and a lad of fourteen.
Mabel and the wife of a common soldier were the only
females.

Sergeant Dunham carried off his command in a large
bateau, and then returned for his final orders, and to see
that his brother-in-law and daughter were properly at-
tended to.  Having pointed out to Cap the boat that he
and Mabel were to use, he ascended the hill to seek his
last interview with Lundie.

It was nearly dark when Mabel found herself in the boat
that was to carry her off to the cutter.  So very smooth
was the surface of the lake, that it was not found necessary
to bring the bateaux into the river to receive their freights;
but the beach outside being totally without surf, and the
water as tranquil as that of a pond, everybody embarked
there.  When the boat left the land, Mabel would not
have known that she was afloat on so broad a sheet of
water by any movement which is usual to such circum-
stances.  The oars had barely time to give a dozen strokes,
when the boat lay at the cutter's side.

Jasper was in readiness to receive his passengers; and,
as the deck of the _Scud_ was but two or three feet above
the water, no difficulty was experienced in getting on
board of her.  As soon as this was effected, the young man
pointed out to Mabel and her companion the accommoda-
tions prepared for their reception.  The little vessel con-
tained four apartments below, all between decks having
been expressly constructed with a view to the transporta-
tion of officers and men, with their wives and families.
First in rank was what was called the after-cabin, a small
apartment that contained four berths, and which enjoyed
the advantage of possessing small windows, for the ad-
mission of air and light.  This was uniformly devoted to
females whenever any were on board; and as Mabel and
her companion were alone, they had ample accommoda-
tion.  The main cabin was larger, and lighted from above.
It was now appropriated to the Quartermaster, the Ser-
geant, Cap, and Jasper; the Pathfinder roaming through
any part of the cutter he pleased, the female apartment
excepted.  The corporals and common soldiers occupied
the space beneath the main hatch, which had a deck for
such a purpose, while the crew were berthed, as usual, in the
forecastle.  Although the cutter did not measure quite
fifty tons, the draft of officers and men was so light, that
there was ample room for all on board, there being space
enough to accommodate treble the number, if necessary.

As soon as Mabel had taken possession of her own really
comfortable cabin, in doing which she could not abstain
from indulging in the pleasant reflection that some of
Jasper's favor had been especially manifested in her be-
half, she went on deck again.  Here all was momentarily
in motion; the men were roving to and fro, in quest of
their knapsacks and other effects; but method and habit
soon reduced things to order, when the stillness on board
became even imposing, for it was connected with the idea
of future adventure and ominous preparation.

Darkness was now beginning to render objects on shore
indistinct, the whole of the land forming one shapeless
black outline of even forest summits, to be distinguished
from the impending heavens only by the greater light of
the sky.  The stars, however, soon began to appear in the
latter, one after another, in their usual mild, placid lustre,
bringing with them that sense of quiet which ordinarily
accompanies night.  There was something soothing, as
well as exciting, in such a scene; and Mabel, who was
seated on the quarter-deck, sensibly felt both influences.
The Pathfinder was standing near her, leaning, as usual,
on his long rifle, and she fancied that, through the grow-
ing darkness of the hour, she could trace even stronger
lines of thought than usual in his rugged countenance.

"To you, Pathfinder, expeditions like this can be no
great novelty," said she; "though I am surprised to find
how silent and thoughtful the men appear to be."

"We learn this by making war ag'in Indians.  Your
militia are great talkers and little doers in general; but
the soldier who has often met the Mingos learns to know
the value of a prudent tongue.  A silent army, in the
woods, is doubly strong; and a noisy one, doubly weak.
If tongues made soldiers, the, women of a camp would
generally carry the day."

"But we are neither an army, nor in the woods.  There
can be no danger of Mingos in the _Scud_."

"No one is safe from a Mingo, who does not understand
his very natur'; and even then he must act up to his own
knowledge, and that closely.  Ask Jasper how he got com-
mand of this very cutter."

"And how _did_ he get command?" inquired Mabel, with
an earnestness and interest that quite delighted her simple-
minded and true-hearted companion, who was never better
pleased than when he had an opportunity of saying aught
in favor of a friend.  "It is honorable to him that he has
reached this station while yet so young."

"That is it; but he deserved it all, and more.  A frigate
wouldn't have been too much to pay for so much spirit
and coolness, had there been such a thing on Ontario, as
there is not, hows'ever, or likely to be."

"But Jasper -- you have not yet told me how he got the
command of the schooner."

"It is a long story, Mabel, and one your father, the Ser-
geant, can tell much better than I; for he was present,
while I was off on a distant scouting.  Jasper is not good
at a story, I will own that; I have heard him questioned
about this affair, and he never made a good tale of it, al-
though every body knows it was a good thing.  The _Scud_
had near fallen into the hands of the French and the
Mingos, when Jasper saved her, in a way which none but
a quick-witted mind and a bold heart would have at-
tempted.  The Sergeant will tell the tale better than I
can, and I wish you to question him some day, when
nothing better offers."

Mabel determined to ask her father to repeat the inci-
dents of the affair that very night; for it struck her young
fancy that nothing better could well offer than to listen to
the praises of one who was a bad historian of his own ex-
ploits.

"Will the _Scud_ remain with us when we reach the
island?" she asked, after a little hesitation about the
propriety of the question; "or shall we be left to our-
selves?"

"That's as may be: Jasper does not often keep the
cutter idle when anything is to be done; and we may
expect activity on his part.  My gifts, however, run so
little towards the water and vessels generally, unless it be
among rapids and falls and in canoes, that I pretend to
know nothing about it.  We shall have all right under
Jasper, I make no doubt, who can find a trail on Ontario
as well as a Delaware can find one on the land."

"And our own Delaware, Pathfinder -- the Big Serpent --
why is he not with us to-night?"

"Your question would have been more natural had you
said, Why are _you_ here, Pathfinder?  The Sarpent is in
his place, while I am not in mine.  He is out, with two or
three more, scouting the lake shores, and will join us down
among the islands, with the tidings he may gather.  The
Sergeant is too good a soldier to forget his rear while he
is facing the enemy in front.  It's a thousand pities,
Mabel, your father wasn't born a general, as some of the
English are who come among us; for I feel sartain he
wouldn't leave a Frencher in the Canadas a week, could
he have his own way with them."

"Shall we have enemies to face in front?" asked Mabel,
smiling, and for the first time feeling a slight apprehen-
sion about the dangers of the expedition.  "Are we likely
to have an engagement?"

"If we have, Mabel, there will be men enough ready
and willing to stand between you and harm.  But you are
a soldier's daughter, and, we all know, have the spirit of
one.  Don't let the fear of a battle keep your pretty eyes
from sleeping."

"I do feel braver out here in the woods, Pathfinder,
than I ever felt before amid the weaknesses of the towns,
although I have always tried to remember what I owe to
my dear father."

"Ay, your mother was so before you.  'You will find
Mabel, like her mother, no screamer, or a faint-hearted
girl, to trouble a man in his need; but one who would en-
courage her mate, and help to keep his heart up when
sorest prest by danger,' said the Sergeant to me, before I
ever laid eyes on that sweet countenance of yours, -- he
did!"

"And why should my father have told you this, Path-
finder?" the girl demanded a little earnestly.  "Perhaps
he fancied you would think the better of me if you did
not believe me a silly coward, as so many of my sex love to
make themselves appear."

Deception, unless it were at the expense of his enemies
in the field, -- nay, concealment of even a thought, -- was
so little in accordance with the Pathfinder's very nature,
that he was not a little embarrassed by this simple ques-
tion.  In such a strait he involuntarily took refuge in a,
middle course, not revealing that which he fancied ought
not to be told, nor yet absolutely concealing it.

"You must know, Mabel," said he, "that the Sergeant
and I are old friends, and have stood side by side -- or, if
not actually side by side, I a little in advance, as became a
scout, and your father with his own men, as better suited
a soldier of the king -- on many a hard fi't and bloody day.
It's the way of us skirmishers to think little of the fight
when the rifle has done cracking; and at night, around
our fires, or on our marches, we talk of the things we love,
just as you young women convarse about your fancies and
opinions when you get together to laugh over your idees.
Now it was natural that the Sergeant, having such a
daughter as you, should love her better than anything else,
and that he should talk of her oftener than of anything
else, -- while I, having neither daughter, nor sister, nor
mother, nor kith, nor kin, nor anything but the Delawares
to love, I naturally chimed in, as it were, and got to love
you, Mabel, before I ever saw you -- yes, I did -- just by talk-
ing about you so much."

"And now you _have_ seen me," returned the smiling girl,
whose unmoved and natural manner proved how little she
was thinking of anything more than parental or fraternal
regard, "you are beginning to see the folly of forming
friendships for people before you know anything about
them, except by hearsay."

"It wasn't friendship -- it isn't friendship, Mabel, that
I feel for you.  I am the friend of the Delawares, and
have been so from boyhood; but my feelings for them, or
for the best of them, are not the same as those I got from
the Sergeant for you; and, especially, now that I begin to
know you better.  I'm sometimes afeared it isn't whole-
some for one who is much occupied in a very manly call-
ing, like that of a guide or scout, or a soldier even, to form
friendships for women, -- young women in particular, -- as
they seem to me to lessen the love of enterprise, and to
turn the feelings away from their gifts and natural occu-
pations."

"You surely do not mean, Pathfinder, that a friendship
for a girl like me would make you less bold, and more un-
willing to meet the French than you were before?"

"Not so, not so.  With you in danger, for instance, I
fear I might become foolhardy; but before we became so
intimate, as I may say, I loved to think of my scoutings,
and of my marches, and outlyings, and fights, and other
adventures: but now my mind cares less about them; I
think more of the barracks, and of evenings passed in dis-
course, of feelings in which there are no wranglings and
bloodshed, and of young women, and of their laughs and
their cheerful, soft voices, their pleasant looks and their
winning ways.  I sometimes tell the Sergeant that he and
his daughter will be the spoiling of one of the best and
most experienced scouts on the lines."

"Not they, Pathfinder; they will try to make that which
is already so excellent, perfect.  You do not know us, if
you think that either wishes to see you in the least changed.
Remain as at present, the same honest, upright, conscien-
tious, fearless, intelligent, trustworthy guide that you are,
and neither my dear father nor myself can ever think of
you differently from what we now do."

It was too dark for Mabel to note the workings of the
countenance of her listener; but her own sweet face was
turned towards him, as she spoke with an energy equal to
her frankness, in a way to show how little embarrassed
were her thoughts, and how sincere were her words.  Her
countenance was a little flushed, it is true; but it was with
earnestness and truth of feeling, though no nerve thrilled,
no limb trembled, no pulsation quickened.  In short, her
manner and appearance were those of a sincere-minded
and frank girl, making such a declaration of good-will and
regard for one of the other sex as she felt that his services
and good qualities merited, without any of the emotion
that invariably accompanies the consciousness of an in-
clination which might lead to softer disclosures.

The Pathfinder was too unpractised, however, to enter
into distinctions of this kind, and his humble nature was
encouraged by the directness and strength of the words
he had just heard.  Unwilling, if not unable, to say any
more, he walked away, and stood leaning on his rifle and
looking up at the stars for full ten minutes in profound
silence.

In the meanwhile the interview on the bastion, to which
we have already alluded, took place between Lundie and
the Sergeant.

"Have the men's knapsacks been examined?" demanded
Major Duncan, after he had cast his eye at a written report,
handed to him by the Sergeant, but which it was too dark
to read.

"All, your honor; and all are right."

"The ammunition -- arms?"

"All in order, Major Duncan, and fit for any service."

"You have the men named in my own draft, Dunham?"

"Without an exception, sir.  Better men could not be
found in the regiment."

"You have need of the best of our men, Sergeant.  This
experiment has now been tried three times; always under
one of the ensigns, who have flattered me with success,
but have as often failed.  After so much preparation and
expense, I do not like to abandon the project entirely;
but this will be the last effort; and the result will mainly
depend on you and on the Pathfinder."

"You may count on us both, Major Duncan.  The duty
you have given us is not above our habits and experience,
and I think it will be well done.  I know that the Path-
finder will not be wanting."

"On that, indeed, it will be safe to rely.  He is a most
extraordinary man, Dunham -- one who long puzzled me;
but who, now that I understand him, commands as much
of my respect as any general in his majesty's service."

"I was in hopes, sir, that you would come to look at the
proposed marriage with Mabel as a thing I ought to wish
and forward."

"As for that, Sergeant, time will show," returned
Lundie, smiling; though here, too, the obscurity concealed
tbe nicer shades of expression; "one woman is sometimes
more difficult to manage than a whole regiment of men.
By the way, you know that your would-be son-in-law, the
Quartermaster, will be of the party; and I trust you will
at least give him an equal chance in the trial for your
daughter's smiles."

"If respect for his rank, sir, did not cause me to do
this, your honor's wish would be sufficient."

"I thank you, Sergeant.  We have served much together,
and ought to value each other in our several stations.
Understand me, however, I ask no more for Davy Muir
than a clear field and no favor.  In love, as in war, each
man must gain his own victories.  Are you certain that
the rations have been properly calculated?"

"I'll answer for it, Major Duncan; but if they were not,
we cannot suffer with two such hunters as Pathfinder and
the Serpent in company."

"That will never do, Dunham," interrupted Lundie
sharply; "and it comes of your American birth and
American training.  No thorough soldier ever relies on
anything but his commissary for supplies; and I beg that
no part of my regiment may be the first to set an example
to the contrary."

"You have only to command, Major Duncan, to be
obeyed; and yet, if I might presume, sir -- "

"Speak freely, Sergeant; you are talking with a friend."

"I was merely about to say that I find even the Scotch
soldiers like venison and birds quite as well as pork, when
they are difficult to be had."

"That may be very true; but likes and dislikes have
nothing to do with system.  An army can rely on nothing
but its commissaries.  The irregularity of the provincials
has played the devil with the king's service too often to be
winked at any longer."

"General Braddock, your honor, might have been ad-
vised by Colonel Washington."

"Out upon your Washington!  You're all provincials
together, man, and uphold each other as if you were of a
sworn confederacy."

"I believe his majesty has no more loyal subjects than
the Americans, your honor."

"In that, Dunham, I'm thinking you're right; and I
have been a little too warm, perhaps.  I do not consider
_you_ a provincial, however, Sergeant; for though born in
America, a better soldier never shouldered a musket."

"And Colonel Washington, your honor?"

"Well! -- and Colonel Washington may be a useful subject
too.  He is the American prodigy; and I suppose I may as
well give him all the credit you ask.  You have no doubt
of the skill of this Jasper Eau-douce?"

"The boy has been tried, sir, and found equal to all that
can be required of him."

"He has a French name, and has passed much of his
boyhood in the French colonies; has he French blood in
his veins, Sergeant?"

"Not a drop, your honor.  Jasper's father was an old
comrade of my own, and his mother came of an honest
and loyal family in this very province."

"How came he then so much among the French, and
whence his name?  He speaks the language of the Canadas,
too, I find."

"That is easily explained, Major Duncan.  The boy was
left under the care of one of our mariners in the old war,
and he took to the water like a duck.  Your honor knows
that we have no ports on Ontario that can be named as
such, and he naturally passed most of his time on the
other side of the lake, where the French have had a few
vessels these fifty years.  He learned to speak their lan-
guage, as a matter of course, and got his name from the
Indians and Canadians, who are fond of calling men by
their qualities, as it might be."

"A French master is but a poor instructor for a British
sailor, notwithstanding."

"I beg your pardon, sir: Jasper Eau-douce was brought
up under a real English seaman, one that had sailed under
the king's pennant, and may be called a thorough-bred;
that is to say, a subject born in the colonies, but none the
worse at his trade, I hope, Major Duncan, for that."

"Perhaps not, Sergeant, perhaps not; nor any better.
This Jasper behaved well, too, when I gave him the com-
mand of the _Scud_; no lad could have conducted himself
more loyally or better."

"Or more bravely, Major Duncan.  I am sorry to see,
sir, that you have doubts as to the fidelity of Jasper."

"It is the duty of the soldier who is entrusted with the
care of a distant and important post like this, Dunham,
never to relax in his vigilance.  We have two of the most
artful enemies that the world has ever produced, in their
several ways, to contend with, -- the Indians and the
French, -- and nothing should be overlooked that can lead
to injury."

"I hope your honor considers me fit to be entrusted
with any particular reason that may exist for doubting
Jasper, since you have seen fit to entrust me with this
command."

"It is not that I doubt you, Dunham, that I hesitate to
reveal all I may happen to know; but from a strong re-
luctance to circulate an evil report concerning one of
whom I have hitherto thought well.  You must think
well of the Pathfinder, or you would not wish to give him
your daughter?"

"For the Pathfinder's honesty I will answer with my
life, sir," returned the Sergeant firmly, and not without a
dignity of manner that struck his superior.  "Such a man
doesn't know how to be false."

"I believe you are right, Dunham; and yet this last in-
formation has unsettled all my old opinions.  I have re-
ceived an anonymous communication, Sergeant, advising
me to be on my guard against Jasper Western, or Jasper
Eau-douce, as he is called, who, it alleges, has been bought
by the enemy, and giving me reason to expect that further
and more precise information will soon be sent."

"Letters without signatures to them, sir, are scarcely to
be regarded in war."

"Or in peace, Dunham.  No one can entertain a lower
opinion of the writer of an anonymous letter, in ordinary
matters, than myself; the very act denotes cowardice,
meanness, and baseness; and it usually is a token of false-
hood, as well as of other vices.  But in matters of war it
is not exactly the same thing.  Besides, several suspicious
circumstances have been pointed out to me."

"Such as is fit for an orderly to hear, your honor?"

"Certainly, one in whom I confide as much as in your-
self Dunham.  It is said, for instance, that your daughter
and her party were permitted to escape the Iroquois, when
they came in, merely to give Jasper credit with me.  I am
told that the gentry at Frontenac will care more for the
capture of the _Scud_, with Sergeant Dunham and a party
of men, together with the defeat of our favorite plan, than
for the capture of a girl and the scalp of her uncle."

"I understand the hint, sir, but I do not give it credit.
Jasper can hardly be true, and Pathfinder false; and,as
for the last, I would as soon distrust your honor as distrust
him."

"It would seem so, Sergeant; it would indeed seem so.
But Jasper is not the Pathfinder, after all; and I will own,
Dunham, I should put more faith in the lad if he didn't
speak French."

"It's no recommendation in my eyes, I assure your
honor; but the boy learned it by compulsion, as it were,
and ought not to be condemned too hastily for the cir-
cumstance, by your honor's leave."

"It's a d----d lingo, and never did any one good -- at least
no British subject; for I suppose the French themselves
must talk together in some language or other.  I should
have much more faith in this Jasper, did he know nothing
of their language.  This letter has made me uneasy; and,
were there another to whom I could trust the cutter, I
would devise some means to detain him here.  I have
spoken to you already of a brother-in-law, who goes with
you, Sergeant, and who is a sailor?"

"A real seafaring man, your honor, and somewhat preju-
diced against fresh water.  I doubt if he could be induced
to risk his character on a lake, and I'm certain he never
could find the station."

"The last is probably true, and then, the man cannot
know enough of this treacherous lake to be fit for the em-
ployment.  You will have to be doubly vigilant, Dunham.
I give you full powers; and should you detect this Jasper
in any treachery, make him a sacrifice at once to offended
justice."

"Being in the service of the crown, your honor, he is
amenable to martial law."

"Very true; then iron him, from his head to his heels,
and send him up here in his own cutter.  That brother-
in-law of yours must be able to find the way back, after
he has once travelled the road."

"I make no doubt, Major Duncan, we shall be able to
do all that will be necessary should Jasper turn out as you
seem to anticipate; though I think I would risk my life
on his truth."

"I like your confidence -- it speaks well for the fellow;
but that infernal letter! there is such an air of truth
about it; nay, there is so much truth in it, touching other
matters."

"I think your honor said it wanted the name at the
bottom; a great omission for an honest man to make."

"Quite right, Dunham, and no one but a rascal, and a
cowardly rascal in the bargain, would write an anonymous
letter on private affairs.  It is different, however, in war;
despatches are feigned, and artifice is generally allowed to
be justifiable."

"Military manly artifices, sir, if you will; such as am-
bushes, surprises, feints, false attacks, and even spies; but
I never heard of a true soldier who could wish to under-
mine the character of an honest young man by such means
as these."

"I have met with many strange events, and some
stranger people, in the course of my experience.  But fare
you well, Sergeant; I must detain you no longer.  You
are now on your guard, and I recommend to you untiring
vigilance.  I think Muir means shortly to retire; and,
should you fully succeed in this enterprise, my influence
will not be wanting in endeavoring to put you in the
vacancy, to which you have many claims."

"I humbly thank your honor," coolly returned the Ser-
geant, who had been encouraged in this manner any time
for the twenty preceding years, "and hope I shall never
disgrace my station, whatever it may be.  I am what nature
and Providence have made me, and hope I'm satisfied."

"You have not forgotten the howitzer?"

"Jasper took it on board this morning, sir."

"Be wary, and do not trust that man unnecessarily.
Make a confidant of Pathfinder at once; he may be of
service in detecting any villainy that may be stirring.  His
simple honesty will favor his observation by concealing it.
He _must_ be true."

"For him, sir, my own head shall answer, or even my
rank in the regiment.  I have seen him too often tried to
doubt him."

"Of all wretched sensations, Dunham, distrust, where
one is compelled to confide, is the most painful.  You
have bethought you of the spare flints?"

"A sergeant is a safe commander for all such details,
your honor."

"Well, then, give me your hand, Dunham.  God bless
you! and may you be successful!  Muir means to retire, --
by the way, let the man have an equal chance with your
daughter, for it may facilitate future operations about the
promotion.  One would retire more cheerfully with such
a companion as Mabel, than in cheerless widowhood, and
with nothing but oneself to love, -- and such a self, too, as
Davy's!"

"I hope, sir, my child will make a prudent choice, and
I think her mind is already pretty much made up in favor
of Pathfinder.  Still she shall have fair play, though dis-
obedience is the next crime to mutiny."

"Have all the ammunition carefully examined and dried
as soon as you arrive; the damp of the lake may affect it.
And now, once more, farewell, Sergeant.  Beware of that
Jasper, and consult with Muir in any difficulty.  I shall
expect you to return, triumphant, this day month."

"God bless your honor!  If anything should happen to
me, I trust to you, Major Duncan, to care for an old sol-
dier's character."

"Rely on me, Dunham -- you will rely on a friend.  Be
vigilant: remember you will be in the very jaws of the
lion; -- pshaw! of no lion neither; but of treacherous tigers:
in their very jaws, and beyond support.  Have the flints
counted and examined in the morning -- and -- farewell,
Dunham, farewell!"

The Sergeant took the extended hand of his superior
with proper respect, and they finally parted; Lundie has-
tening into his own movable abode, while the other left
the fort, descended to the beach, and got into a boat.

It is not to be supposed that Sergeant Dunham, after
he had parted from his commanding officer, was likely to
forget the injunctions he had received. He thought highly
of Jasper in general; but distrust had been insinuated be-
tween his former confidence and the obligations of duty;
and, as he now felt that everything depended on his own
vigilance, by the time the boat reached the side of the _Scud_
he was in a proper humor to let no suspicious circumstance
go unheeded, or any unusual movement in the young sailor
pass without its comment.  As a matter of course, he
viewed things in the light suited to his peculiar mood;
and his precautions, as well as his distrust, partook of the
habits, opinions, and education of the man.

The _Scud's_ kedge was lifted as soon as the boat with the
Sergeant, who was the last person expected, was seen to
quit the shore, and the head of the cutter was cast to the
eastward by means of the sweeps.  A few vigorous strokes
of the latter, in which the soldiers aided, now sent the
light craft into the line or the current that flowed from
the river, when she was suffered to drift into the offing
again.  As yet there was no wind, the light and almost
imperceptible air from the lake, that had existed previ-
ously to the setting of the sun, having entirely failed.

All this time an unusual quiet prevailed in the cutter.
It appeared as if those on board of her felt that they were
entering upon an uncertain enterprise, in the obscurity of
night; and that their duty, the hour, and the manner of
their departure lent a solemnity to their movements.  Dis-
cipline also came in aid of these feelings.  Most were silent;
and those who did speak spoke seldom and in low voices.
In this manner the cutter set slowly out into the lake, until
she had got as far as the river current would carry her,
when she became stationary, waiting for the usual land-
breeze.  An interval of half an hour followed, during the
whole of which time the _Scud_ lay as motionless as a log,
floating on the water.  While the little changes just men-
tioned were occurring in the situation of the vessel, not-
withstanding the general quiet that prevailed, all conversa-
tion had not been repressed; for Sergeant Dunham, having
first ascertained that both his daughter and her female
companion were on the quarter-deck, led the Pathfinder to
the after-cabin, where, closing the door with great caution,
and otherwise making certain that he was beyond the reach
of eavesdroppers, he commenced as follows: --

"It is now many years, my friend, since you began to
experience the hardships and dangers of the woods in my
company."

"It is, Sergeant; yes it is.  I sometimes fear I am too
old for Mabel, who was not born until you and I had fought
the Frenchers as comrades."

"No fear on that account, Pathfinder.  I was near your
age before I prevailed on the mind of her mother; and
Mabel is a steady, thoughtful girl, one that will regard
character more than anything else.  A lad like Jasper
Eau-douce, for instance, will have no chance with her,
though he is both young and comely."

"Does Jasper think of marrying?" inquired the guide,
simply but earnestly.

"I should hope not -- at least, not until he has satisfied
every one of his fitness to possess a wife."

"Jasper is a gallant boy, and one of great gifts in his
way; he may claim a wife as well as another."

"To be frank with you, Pathfinder, I brought you here
to talk about this very youngster.  Major Duncan has re-
ceived some information which has led him to suspect that
Eau-douce is false, and in the pay of the enemy; I wish to
hear your opinion on the subject."

"Anan?"

"I say, the Major suspects Jasper of being a traitor -- a
French spy -- or, what is worse, of being bought to betray
us.  He has received a letter to this effect, and has been
charging me to keep an eye on the boy's movements; for
he fears we shall meet with enemies when we least suspect
it, and by his means."

"Duncan of Lundie has told you this, Sergeant Dun-
ham?"

"He has indeed, Pathfinder; and, though I have been
loath to believe anything to the injury of Jasper, I have a
feeling which tells me I ought to distrust him.  Do you
believe in presentiments, my friend?

"In what, Sergeant?"

"Presentiments, -- a sort of secret foreknowledge of
events that are about to happen.  The Scotch of our regi-
ment are great sticklers for such things; and my opinion
of Jasper is changing so fast, that I begin to fear there
must be some truth in their doctrines."

"But you've been talking with Duncan of Lundie con-
cerning Jasper, and his words have raised misgivings."

"Not it, not so in the least; for, while conversing with
the Major, my feelings were altogether the other way; and
I endeavored to convince him all I could that he did the
boy injustice.  But there is no use in holding out against
a presentiment, I find; and I fear there is something in
the suspicion after all."

"I know nothing of presentiments, Sergeant; but I have
known Jasper Eau-douce since he was a boy, and I have
as much faith in his honesty as I have in my own, or that
of the Sarpent himself."

"But the Serpent, Pathfinder, has his tricks and am-
bushes in war as well as another."

"Ay, them are his nat'ral gifts, and are such as belong
to his people.  Neither red-skin nor pale-face can deny
natur'; but Chingachgook is not a man to feel a pre-
sentiment against."

"That I believe; nor should I have thought ill of Jasper
this very morning.  It seems to me, Pathfinder, since I've
taken up this presentiment, that the lad does not bustle
about his deck naturally, as he used to do; but that he is
silent and moody and thoughtful, like a man who has a
load on his conscience."

"Jasper is never noisy; and he tells me noisy ships are
generally ill-worked ships.  Master Cap agrees in this too.
No, no; I will believe naught against Jasper until I see it.
Send for your brother, Sergeant, and let us question him
in this matter; for to sleep with distrust of one's friend
in the heart is like sleeping with lead there.  I have no
faith in your presentiments."

The Sergeant, although he scarcely knew himself with
what object, complied, and Cap was summoned to join in
the consultation.  As Pathfinder was more collected than
his companion, and felt so strong a conviction of the good
faith of the party accused, he assumed the office of spokes-
man.

"We have asked you to come down, Master Cap," he
commenced, "in order to inquire if you have remarked
anything out of the common way in the movements of
Eau-douce this evening."

"His movements are common enough, I daresay, for
fresh water, Master Pathfinder, though we should think
most of his proceedings irregular down on the coast."

"Yes, yes; we know you will never agree with the lad
about the manner the cutter ought to be managed; but it
is on another point we wish your opinion."

The Pathfinder then explained to Cap the nature of the
suspicions which the Sergeant entertained, and the reasons
why they had been excited, so far as the latter had been
communicated by Major Duncan.

"The youngster talks French, does he?" said Cap.

"They say he speaks it better than common," returned
the Sergeant gravely.  "Pathfinder knows this to be true."

"I'll not gainsay it," answered the guide; "at least, they
tell me such is the fact.  But this would prove nothing
ag'in a Mississagua, and, least of all, ag'in one like Jasper.
I speak the Mingo dialect myself, having learnt it while a
prisoner among the reptyles; but who will say I am their
friend?  Not that I am an enemy, either, according to In-
dian notions; though I am their enemy, I will admit, agree-
able to Christianity."

"Ay Pathfinder; but Jasper did not get his French as a
prisoner: he took it in his boyhood, when the mind is easily
impressed, and gets its permanent notions; when nature
has a presentiment, as it were, which way the character is
likely to incline."

"A very just remark," added Cap, "for that is the time
of life when we all learn the catechism, and other moral
improvements.  The Sergeant's observation shows that he
understands human nature, and I agree with him per-
fectly; it _is_ a damnable thing for a youngster, up here, on
this bit of fresh water, to talk French.  If it were down
on the Atlantic, now, where a seafaring man has occasion
sometimes to converse with a pilot, or a linguister, in that
language, I should not think so much of it, -- though we
always look with suspicion, even there, at a shipmate who
knows too much of the tongue; but up here, on Ontario,
I hold it to be a most suspicious circumstance."

"But Jasper must talk in French to the people on the
other shore," said Pathfinder, "or hold his tongue, as there
are none but French to speak to."

"You don't mean to tell me, Pathfinder, that France
lies hereaway, on the opposite coast?" cried Cap, jerking
a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the Canadas;
"that one side of this bit of fresh water is York, and the
other France?"

"I mean to tell you this is York, and that is Upper
Canada; and that English and Dutch and Indian are
spoken in the first, and French and Indian in the last.
Even the Mingos have got many of the French words in
their dialect, and it is no improvement, neither."

"Very true: and what sort of people are the Mingos, my
friend?" inquired the Sergeant, touching the other on his
shoulder, by way of enforcing a remark, the inherent truth
of which sensibly increased its value in the eyes of the
speaker: "no one knows them better than yourself, and I
ask you what sort of a tribe are they?"

"Jasper is no Mingo, Sergeant."

"He speaks French, and he might as well be, in that
particular.  Brother Cap, can you recollect no movement
of this unfortunate young man, in the way of his calling,
that would seem to denote treachery?"

"Not distinctly, Sergeant, though he has gone to work
wrong-end foremost half his time.  It is true that one of
his hands coiled a rope against the sun, and he called it
_querling_ a rope, too, when I asked him what he was about;
but I am not certain that anything was meant by it;
though, I daresay, the French coil half their running rig-
ging the wrong way, and may call it 'querling it down,'
too, for that matter.  Then Jasper himself belayed the end
of the jib-halyards to a stretcher in the rigging, instead of
bringing in to the mast, where they belong, at least among
British sailors."

"I daresay Jasper may have got some Canada notions
about working his craft, from being so much on the other
side," Pathfinder interposed; "but catching an idee, or a
word, isn't treachery and bad faith.  I sometimes get an
idee from the Mingos themselves; but my heart has always
been with the Delawares.  No, no, Jasper is true; and the
king might trust him with his crown, just as he would
trust his eldest son, who, as he is to wear it one day, ought
to be the last man to wish to steal it."

"Fine talking, fine talking!" said Cap; "all fine talk-
ing, Master Pathfinder, but d----d little logic.  In the first
place, the king's majesty cannot lend his crown, it being
contrary to the laws of the realm, which require him to
wear it at all times, in order that his sacred person may
be known, just as the silver oar is necessary to a sheriff's
officer afloat.  In the next place, it's high treason, by law,
for the eldest son of his majesty ever to covet the crown,
or to have a child, except in lawful wedlock, as either
would derange the succession.  Thus you see, friend Path-
finder that in order to reason truly, one must get under
way, as it might be, on the right tack.  Law is reason, and
reason is philosophy, and philosophy is a steady drag;
whence it follows that crowns are regulated by law, reason,
and philosophy."

"I know little of all this; Master Cap; but nothing short
of seeing and feeling will make me think Jasper Western
a traitor."

"There you are wrong again, Pathfinder; for there is a
way of proving a thing much more conclusively than
either seeing or feeling, or by both together; and that is
by a circumstance."

"It may be so in the settlements; but it is not so here
on the lines."

"It is so in nature, which is monarch over all.  There
was a circumstance, just after we came on board this even-
ing, that is extremely suspicious, and which may be set
down at once as a makeweight against this lad.  Jasper
bent on the king's ensign with his own hands; and, while
he pretended to be looking at Mabel and the soldier's wife,
giving directions about showing them below here, and a
that, he got the flag union down!"

"That might have been accident," returned the Ser-
geant, "for such a thing has happened to myself; besides,
the halyards lead to a pulley, and the flag would have
come right, or not, according to the manner in which the
lad hoisted it."

"A pulley!" exclaimed Cap, with strong disgust; "I
wish, Sergeant Dunham, I could prevail on you to use
proper terms.  An ensign-halyard-block is no more a pul-
ley than your halbert is a boarding-pike.  It is true that
by hoisting on one part, another part would go uppermost;
but I look upon that affair of the ensign, now you have
mentioned your suspicions, as a circumstance, and shall
bear it in mind.  I trust supper is not to be overlooked,
however, even if we have a hold full of traitors."

"It will be duly attended to, brother Cap; but I shall
count on you for aid in managing the _Scud_, should any-
thing occur to induce me to arrest Jasper."

"I'll not fail you, Sergeant; and in such an event you'll
probably learn what this cutter can really perform; for, as
yet, I fancy it is pretty much matter of guesswork."

"Well, for my part," said Pathfinder, drawing a heavy
sigh, "I shall cling to the hope of Jasper's innocence, and
recommend plain dealing, by asking the lad himself, with-
out further delay, whether he is or is not a traitor.  I'll
put Jasper Western against all the presentiments and cir-
cumstances in the colony."

"That will never do," rejoined the Sergeant.  "The re-
sponsibility of this affair rests with me, and I request and
enjoin that nothing be said to any one without my knowl-
edge.  We will all keep watchful eyes about us, and take
proper note of circumstances."

"Ay, ay! circumstances are the things after all," re-
turned Cap.  "One circumstance is worth fifty facts.  That
I know to be the law of the realm.  Many a man has been
hanged on circumstances."

The conversation now ceased, and, after a short delay,
the whole party returned to the deck, each individual dis-
posed to view the conduct of the suspected Jasper in the
manner most suited to his own habits and character.



CHAPTER XIV.

Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,
So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,
Drew Priam's Curtain in the dead of night,
And would have told him, half his Troy was burned.
SHAKESPEARE.


All this time matters were elsewhere passing in their
usual train.  Jasper, like the weather and his vessel, seemed
to be waiting for the land-breeze; while the soldiers, ac-
customed to early rising, had, to a man, sought their pallets
in the main hold.  None remained on deck but the people
of the cutter, Mr. Muir, and the two females.  The Quar-
termaster was endeavoring to render himself agreeable to
Mabel, while our heroine herself, little affected by his as-
siduities, which she ascribed partly to the habitual gallantry
of a soldier, and partly, perhaps, to her own pretty face,
was enjoying the peculiarities of a scene and situation
which, to her, were full of the charms of novelty.

The sails had been hoisted, but as yet not a breath of
air was in motion; and so still and placid was the lake,
that not the smallest motion was perceptible in the cutter.
She had drifted in the river-current to a distance a little
exceeding a quarter of a mile from the land, and there she
lay, beautiful in her symmetry and form, but like a fix-
ture.  Young Jasper was on the quarter-deck, near enough
to hear occasionally the conversation which passed; but
too diffident of his own claim, and too intent on his duties,
to attempt to mingle in it.  The fine blue eyes of Mabel
followed his motions in curious expectation, and more than
once the Quartermaster had to repeat his compliments
before she heard them, so intent was she on the little oc-
currences of the vessel, and, we might add, so indifferent
to the eloquence of her companion.  At length, even Mr.
Muir became silent, and there was a deep stillness on the
water.  Presently an oar-blade fell in a boat beneath the
fort, and the sound reached the cutter as distinctly as if it
had been produced on her deck.  Then came a murmur,
like a sigh of the night, a fluttering of the canvas, the
creaking of the boom, and the flap of the jib.  These well-
known sounds were followed by a slight heel in the cutter,
and by the bellying of all the sails.

"Here's the wind, Anderson," called out Jasper to the
oldest of his sailors; "take the helm."

This brief order was obeyed; the helm was put up, the
cutter's bows fell off, and in a few minutes the water was
heard murmuring under her head, as the _Scud_ glanced
through the lake at the rate of five miles in the hour.  All
this passed in profound silence, when Jasper again gave
the order to "ease off the sheets a little and keep her
along the land."

It was at this instant that the party from the after-cabin
reappeared on the quarter-deck.

"You've no inclination, Jasper lad, to trust yourself too
near our neighbours the French," observed Muir, who took
that occasion to recommence the discourse.  "Well, well,
your prudence will never be questioned by me, for I like
the Canadas as little as you can possibly like them yourself."

"I hug this shore, Mr. Muir, on account of the wind.
The land-breeze is always freshest close in, provided you
are not so near as to make a lee of the trees.  We have
Mexico Bay to cross; and that, on the present course, will
give us quite offing enough."

"I'm right glad it's not the Bay of Mexico," put in Cap,
"which is a part of the world I would rather not visit in
one of your inland craft.  Does your cutter bear a weather
helm, master Eau-douce?"

"She is easy on her rudder, master Cap; but likes look-
ing up at the breeze as well as another, when in lively
motion."

"I suppose you have such things as reefs, though you
can hardly have occasion to use them?"

Mabel's bright eye detected the smile that gleamed for
an instant on Jasper's handsome face; but no one else saw
that momentary exhibition of surprise and contempt.

"We have reefs, and often have occasion to use them,"
quietly returned the young man.  "Before we get in, Mas-
ter Cap, an opportunity may offer to show you the manner
in which we do so; for there is easterly weather brewing,
and the wind cannot chop, even on the ocean itself, more
readily than it flies round on Lake Ontario."

"So much for knowing no better!  I have seen the wind
in the Atlantic fly round like a coach-wheel, in a way to
keep your sails shaking for an hour, and the ship would
become perfectly motionless from not knowing which way
to turn."

"We have no such sudden changes here, certainly,"
Jasper mildly answered; "though we think ourselves liable
to unexpected shifts of wind.  I hope, however, to carry
this land-breeze as far as the first islands; after which
there will be less danger of our being seen and followed by
any of the look-out boats from Frontenac."

"Do you thiuk the French keep spies out on the broad
lake, Jasper?" inquired the Pathfinder.

"We know they do; one was off Oswego during the
night of Monday last.  A bark canoe came close in with
the eastern point, and landed an Indian and an officer.
Had you been outlying that night, as usual, we should have
secured one, if not both of them."

It was too dark to betray the color that deepened on the
weather-burnt features of the guide; for he felt the con-
sciousness of having lingered in the fort that night, listen-
ing to the sweet tones of Mabel's voice as she sang ballads
to her father, and gazing at the countenance which, to
him, was radiant with charms.  Probity in thought and
deed being the distinguishing quality of this extraordinary
man's mind, while he felt that a sort of disgrace ought to
attach to his idleness on the occasion mentioned, the last
thought that could occur would be to attempt to palliate
or deny his negligence.

"I confess it, Jasper, I confess it," said he humbly.
"Had I been out that night, -- and I now recollect no suffi-
cient reason why I was not, -- it might, indeed, have turned
out as you say."

"It was the evening you passed with us, Pathfinder,"
Mabel innocently remarked; "surely one who lives so much
of his time in the forest, in front of the enemy, may be
excused for giving a few hours of his time to an old friend
and his daughter."

"Nay, nay, I've done little else but idle since we reached
the garrison," returned the other, sighing; "and it is well
that the lad should tell me of it: the idler needs a rebuke
- yes, he needs a rebuke."

"Rebuke, Pathfinder!  I never dreamt of saying any-
thing disagreeable, and least of all would I think of re-
buking you, because a solitary spy and an Indian or two
have escaped us.  Now I know where you were, I think
your absence the most natural thing in the world."

"I think nothing of what you said, Jasper, since it was
deserved.  We are all human, and all do wrong."

"This is unkind, Pathfinder."

"Give me your hand, lad, give me your hand.  It wasn't
you that gave the lesson; it was conscience."

"Well, well," interrupted Cap; "now this latter matter
is settled to the satisfaction of all parties, perhaps you will
tell us how it happened to be known that there were spies
near us so lately.  This looks amazingly like a circum-
stance."

As the mariner uttered the last sentence, he pressed a
foot slily on that of the Sergeant, and nudged the guide
with his elbow, winking at the same time, though this sign
was lost in the obscurity.

"It is known, because their trail was found next day by
the Serpent, and it was that of a military boot and a moc-
cassin.  One of our hunters, moreover, saw the canoe cross-
ing towards Frontenac next morning."

"Did the trail lead near the garrison, Jasper?" Path-
finder asked in a manner so meek and subdued that it re-
sembled the tone of a rebuked schoolboy.  "Did the trail
lead near the garrison, lad?"

"We thought not; though, of course, it did not cross
the river.  It was followed down to the eastern point, at
the river's mouth, where what was doing in port, might be
seen; but it did not cross, as we could discover."

"And why didn't you get under weigh, Master Jasper,"
Cap demanded, "and give chase?  On Tuesday morning
it blew a good breeze; one in which this cutter might have
run nine knots."

"That may do on the ocean, Master Cap," put in Path-
finder, "but it would not do here.  Water leaves no trail,
and a Mingo and a Frenchman are a match for the devil
in a pursuit."

"Who wants a trail when the chase can be seen from
the deck, as Jasper here said was the case with this canoe?
and it mattered nothing if there were twenty of your Mingos
and Frenchmen, with a good British-built bottom in their
wake.  I'll engage, Master Eau-douce, had you given me a
call that said Tuesday morning, that we should have over-
hauled the blackguards."

"I daresay, Master Cap, that the advice of as old a sea-
man as you might have done no harm to as young a sailor
as myself, but it is a long and a hopeless chase that has a
bark canoe in it."

"You would have had only to press it hard, to drive it
ashore."

"Ashore, master Cap!  You do not understand our lake
navigation at all, if you suppose it an easy matter to force
a bark canoe ashore.  As soon as they find themselves
pressed, these bubbles paddle right into the wind's eye, and
before you know it, you find yourself a mile or two dead
under their lee."

"You don't wish me to believe, Master Jasper, that any
one is so heedless of drowning as to put off into this lake
in one of them eggshells when there is any wind?"

"I have often crossed Ontario in a bark canoe, even
when there has been a good deal of sea on.  Well managed,
they are the driest boats of which we have any knowl-
edge."

Cap now led his brother-in-law and Pathfinder aside,
when he assured him that the admission of Jasper con-
cerning the spies was "a circumstance," and "a strong cir-
cumstance," and as such it deserved his deliberate investiga-
tion; while his account of the canoes was so improbable
as to wear the appearance of brow-beating the listeners.
Jasper spoke confidently of the character of the two indi-
viduals who had landed, and this Cap deemed pretty strong
proof that he knew more about them than was to be gath-
ered from a mere trail.  As for mocassins, he said that
they were worn in that part of the world by white men as
well as by Indians; he had purchased a pair himself; and
boots, it was notorious, did not particularly make a soldier.
Although much of this logic was thrown away on the Ser-
geant, still it produced some effect.  He thought it a little
singular himself, that there should have been spies detected
so near the fort and he know nothing of it; nor did he
believe that this was a branch of knowledge that fell par-
ticularly within the sphere of Jasper.  It was true that
the _Scud_ had, once or twice, been sent across the lake to
land men of this character, or to bring them off; but then
the part played by Jasper, to his own certain knowledge,
was very secondary, the master of the cutter remaining as
ignorant as any one else of the purport of the visits of
those whom he had carried to and fro; nor did he see why
he alone, of all present, should know anything of the late
visit.  Pathfinder viewed the matter differently.  With his
habitual diffidence, he reproached himself with a neglect
of duty, and that knowledge, of which the want struck
him as a fault in one whose business it was to possess it,
appeared a merit in the young man.  He saw nothing ex-
traordinary in Jasper's knowing the facts he had related;
while he did feel it was unusual, not to say disgraceful,
that he himself now heard of them for the first time.

"As for mocassins, Master Cap," said he, when a short
pause invited him to speak, "they may be worn by pale-
faces as well as by red-skins, it is true, though they never
leave the same trail on the foot of one as on the foot of
the other.  Any one who is used to the woods can tell the
footstep of an Indian from the footstep of a white man,
whether it be made by a boot or a moccassin.  It will need
better evidence than this to persuade me into the belief
that Jasper is false."

"You will allow, Pathfinder, that there are such things
in the world as traitors?" put in Cap logically.

"I never knew an honest-minded Mingo, -- one that you
could put faith in, if he had a temptation to deceive you.
Cheating seems to be their gift, and I sometimes think
they ought to be pitied for it, rather than persecuted."

"Then why not believe that this Jasper may have the
same weakness?  A man is a man, and human nature is
sometimes but a poor concern, as I know by experience."

This was the opening of another long and desultory
conversation, in which the probability of Jasper's guilt or
innocence was argued _pro_ and _con._, until both the Sergeant
and his brother-in-law had nearly reasoned themselves into
settled convictions in favor of the first, while their corn-
panion grew sturdier and sturdier in his defence of the
accused, and still more fixed in his opinion of his being
unjustly charged with treachery.  In this there was nothing
out of the common course of things; for there is no more
certain way of arriving at any particular notion, than by
undertaking to defend it; and among the most obstinate
of our opinions may be classed those which are derived
from discussions in which we affect to search for truth,
while in reality we are only fortifying prejudice.

By this time the Sergeant had reached a state of mind
that disposed him to view every act of the young sailor
with distrust, and he soon got to coincide with his relative
in deeming the peculiar knowledge of Jasper, in reference
to the spies, a branch of information that certainly did
not come within the circle of his regular duties, as "a cir-
cumstance."

While this matter was thus discussed near the taffrail,
Mabel sat silently by the companion-way, Mr. Muir having
gone below to look after his personal comforts, and Jasper
standing a little aloof, with his arms crossed, and his eyes
wandering from the sails to the clouds, from the clouds to
the dusky outline of the shore, from the shore to the lake,
and from the lake back again to the sails.  Our heroine,
too, began to commune with her own thoughts.  The ex-
citement of the late journey, the incidents which marked
the day of her arrival at the fort, the meeting with a father
who was virtually a stranger to her, the novelty of her late
situation in the garrison, and her present voyage, formed
a vista for the mind's eye to look back through, which
seemed lengthened into months.  She could with difficulty
believe that she had so recently left the town, with all the
usages of civilized life; and she wondered in particular that
the incidents which had occurred during the descent of
the Oswego had made so little impression on her mind.
Too inexperienced to know that events, when crowded,
have the effect of time, or that the quick succession of
novelties that pass before us in travelling elevates objects,
in a measure, to the dignity of events, she drew upon her
memory for days and dates, in order to make certain that
she had known Jasper, and the Pathfinder, and her own
father, but little more than a fortnight.  Mabel was a girl
of heart rather than of imagination, though by no means
deficient in the last, and she could not easily account for
the strength of her feelings in connection with those who
were so lately strangers to her; for she was not sufficiently
accustomed to analyze her sensations to understand the
nature of the influences that have just been mentioned.
As yet, however, her pure mind was free from the blight
of distrust, and she had no suspicion of the views of either
of her suitors; and one of the last thoughts that could
have voluntarily disturbed her confidence would have been
to suppose it possible either of her companions was a
traitor to his king and country.

America, at the time of which we are writing, was re-
markable for its attachment to the German family that
then sat on the British throne; for, as is the fact with all
provinces, the virtues and qualities that are proclaimed
near the centre of power, as incense and policy, get to be
a part of political faith with the credulous and ignorant at
a distance.  This truth is just as apparent to-day, in con-
nection with the prodigies of the republic, as it then was
in connection with those distant rulers, whose merits it
was always safe to applaud, and whose demerits it was
treason to reveal.  It is a consequence of this mental de-
pendence, that public opinion is so much placed at the
mercy of the designing; and the world, in the midst of its
idle boasts of knowledge and improvement, is left to re-
ceive its truths, on all such points as touch the interests of
the powerful and managing, through such a medium, and
such a medium only, as may serve the particular views
of those who pull the wires.  Pressed upon by the subjects
of France, who were then encircling the British colonies
with a belt of forts ind settlements that completely secured
the savages for allies, it would have been difficult to say
whether the Americans loved the English more than
they hated the French; and those who then lived probably
would have considered the alliance which took place be-
tween the cis-Atlantic subjects and the ancient rivals of
the British crown, some twenty years later, as an event
entirely without the circle of probabilities.  Disaffection
was a rare offence; and, most of all, would treason, that
should favor France or Frenchmen, have been odious in
the eyes of the provincials.  The last thing that Mabel
would suspect of Jasper was the very crime with which he
now stood secretly charged; and if others near her en-
dured the pains of distrust, she, at least, was filled with
the generous confidence of a woman.  As yet no whisper
had reached her ear to disturb the feeling of reliance with
which she had early regarded the young sailor, and her
own mind would have been the last to suggest such a
thought of itself.  The pictures of the past and of the
present, therefore, that exhibited themselves so rapidly to
her active imagination, were unclouded with a shade that
might affect any in whom she felt an interest; and ere
she had mused, in the manner related, a quarter of an hour,
the whole scene around her was filled with unalloyed satis-
faction.

The season and the night, to represent them truly,
were of a nature to stimulate the sensations which youth,
health, and happiness are wont to associate with novelty.
The weather was warm, as is not always the case in that
region even in summer, while the air that came off the
land, in breathing currents, brought with it the coolness
and fragrance of the forest.  The wind was far from being
fresh, though there was enough of it to drive the _Scud_
merrily ahead, and, perhaps, to keep attention alive, in
the uncertainty that more or less accompanies darkness.
Jasper, however, appeared to regard it with complacency,
as was apparent by what he said in a short dialogue that
now occurred between him and Mabel.

"At this rate, Eau-douce," -- for so Mabel had already
learned to style the young sailor, -- said our heroine, "we
cannot be long in reaching our place of destination."

"Has your father then told you what that is, Mabel?"

"He has told me nothing; my father is too much of a
soldier, and too little used to have a family around him, to
talk of such matters.  Is it forbidden to say whither we
are bound?"

"It cannot be far, while we steer in this direction, for
sixty or seventy miles will take us into the St. Lawrence,
which the French might make too hot for us; and no
voyage on this lake can be very long."

"So says my uncle Cap; but to me, Jasper, Ontario and
the ocean appear very much the same."

"You have then been on the ocean; while I, who pre-
tend to be a sailor, have never yet seen salt water.  You
must have a great contempt for such a mariner as myself,
in your heart, Mabel Dunham?"

"Then I have no such thing in my heart, Jasper Eau-
douce.  What right have I, a girl without experience or
knowledge, to despise any, much less one like you, who
are trusted by the Major, and who command a vessel like
this?  I have never been on the ocean, though I have seen
it; and, I repeat, I see no difference between this lake and
the Atlantic."

"Nor in them that sail on both?  I was afraid, Mabel,
your uncle had said so much against us fresh-water sailors,
that you had begun to look upon us as little better than
pretenders?"

"Give yourself no uneasiness on that account, Jasper;
for I know my uncle, and he says as many things against
those who live ashore, when at York, as he now says against
those who sail on fresh water.  No, no, neither my father
nor myself think anything of such opinions.  My uncle
Cap, if he spoke openly, would be found to have even a worse
notion of a soldier than of a sailor who never saw the sea."

"But your father, Mabel, has a better opinion of soldiers
than of any one else? he wishes you to be the wife of a
soldier?"

"Jasper Eau-douce! -- I the wife of a soldier!  My father
wishes it!  Why should he wish any such thing?  What
soldier is there in the garrison that I could marry -- that
he could _wish me_ to marry?"

"One may love a calling so well as to fancy it will cover
a thousand imperfections."

"But one is not likely to love his own calling so well as
to cause him to overlook everything else.  You say my
father wishes me to marry a soldier; and yet there is no
soldier at Oswego that he would be likely to give me to.
I am in an awkward position; for while I am not good
enough to be the wife of one of the gentlemen of the garri-
son, I think even you will admit, Jasper, I am too good to
be the wife of one of the common soldiers."

As Mabel spoke thus frankly she blushed, she knew not
why, though the obscurity concealed the fact from her
companion; and she laughed faintly, like one who felt
that the subject, however embarrassing it might be, de-
served to be treated fairly.  Jasper, it would seem, viewed
her position differently from herself.

"It is true Mabel," said he, "you are not what is cafle~
a lady, in the common meaning of the word."

"Not in any meaning, Jasper," the generous girl eagerly
interrupted: "on that head, I have no vanities, I hope.
Providence has made me the daughter of a sergeant, and I
am content to remain in the station in which I was born."

"But all do not remain in the stations in which they
were born, Mabel; for some rise above them, and some fall
below them.  Many sergeants have become officers -- even
generals; and why may not sergeants' daughters become
officers' ladies?"

"In the case of Sergeant Dunham's daughter, I know
no better reason than the fact that no officer is likely to
wish to make her his wife," returned Mabel, laughing.

"_You_ may think so; but there are some in the 55th that
know better.  There is certainly one officer in that regi-
ment, Mabel, who does wish to make you his wife."

Quick as the flashing lightning, the rapid thoughts of
Mabel Dunham glanced over the five or six subalterns of
the corps, who, by age and inclinations, would be the most
likely to form such a wish; and we should do injustice to
her habits, perhaps, were we not to say that a lively sensa-
tion of pleasure rose momentarily in her bosom, at the
thought of being raised above a station which, whatever
might be her professions of contentment, she felt that she
had been too well educated to fill with perfect satisfaction.
But this emotion was as transient as it was sudden; for
Mabel Dunham was a girl of too much pure and womanly
feeling to view the marriage tie through anything so
worldly as the mere advantages of station.  The passing
emotion was a thrill produced by factitious habits, while
the more settled opinion which remained was the offspring
of nature and principles.

"I know no officer in the 55th, or any other regiment,
who would be likely to do so foolish a thing; nor do I
think I myself would do so foolish a thing as to marry an
officer."

"Foolish, Mabel!"

"Yes, foolish, Jasper.  You know, as well as I can know,
what the world would think of such matters; and I should
be sorry, very sorry, to find that my husband ever regretted
that he had so far yielded to a fancy for a face or a figure
as to have married the daughter of one so much his in-
ferior as a sergeant."

"_Your_ husband, Mabel, will not be so likely to think of
the father as to think of the daughter."

The girl was talking with spirit, though feeling evidently
entered into her part of the discourse; but she paused for
nearly a minute after Jasper had made the last observa-
tion before she uttered another word.  Then she con-
tinued, in a manner less playful, and one critically atten-
tive might have fancied in a manner slightly melan-
choly, --

"Parent and child ought so to live as not to have two
hearts, or two modes of feeling and thinking.  A common
interest in all things I should think as necessary to happi-
ness in man and wife, as between the other members of
the same family.  Most of all, ought neither the man nor
the woman to have any unusual cause for unhappiness, the
world furnishing so many of itself."

"Am I to understand, then, Mabel, you would refuse to
marry an officer, merely because he was an officer?"

"Have you a right to ask such a question, Jasper?" said
Mabel smiling.

"No other right than what a strong desire to see you
happy can give, which, after all, may be very little.  My
anxiety has been increased, from happening to know that
it is your father's intention to persuade you to marry
Lieutenant Muir."

"My dear, dear father can entertain no notion so ridicu-
lous -- no notion so cruel!"

"Would it, then, be cruel to wish you the wife of a
quarter-master?"

"I have told you what I think on that subject, and can-
not make my words stronger.  Having answered you so
frankly, Jasper, I have a right to ask how you know that
my father thinks of any such thing?"

"That he has chosen a husband for you, I know from
his own mouth; for he has told me this much during our
frequent conversations while he has been superintending
the shipment of the stores; and that Mr. Muir is to offer
for you, I know from the officer himself, who has told me
as much.  By putting the two things together, I have
come to the opinion mentioned."

"May not my dear father, Jasper," -- Mabel's face glowed
like fire while she spoke, though her words escaped her
slowly, and by a sort of involuntary impulse, -- "may not
my dear father have been thinking of another?  It does
not follow, from what you say, that Mr. Muir was in his
mind."

"Is it not probable, Mabel, from all that has passed?
What brings the Quartermaster here?  He has never found
it necessary before to accompany the parties that have gone
below.  He thinks of you for his wife; and your father
has made up his own mind that you shall be so.  You
must see, Mabel, that Mr. Muir follows _you?_"

Mabel made no answer.  Her feminine instinct had,
indeed, told her that she was an object of admiration with
the Quartermaster; though she had hardly supposed to the
extent that Jasper believed; and she, too, had even gathered
from the discourse of her father that he thought seriously
of having her disposed of in marriage; but by no process
of reasoning could she ever have arrived at the inference
that Mr. Muir was to be the man.  She did not believe it
now, though she was far from suspecting the truth.  In-
deed, it was her own opinion that these casual remarks of
her father, which had struck her, had proceeded from a
general wish to have her settled, rather than from any
desire to see her united to any particular individual.  These
thoughts, however, she kept secret; for self-respect and
feminine reserve showed her the impropriety of making
them the subject of discussion with her present companion.
By way of changing the conversation, therefore, after the
pause had lasted long enough to be embarrassing to both
parties, she said, "Of one thing you may be certain, Jasper,
- and that is all I wish to say on the subject, -- Lieutenant
Muir, though he were a colonel, will never be the husband
of Mabel Dunham.  And now, tell me of your voyage; --
when will it end?"

"That is uncertain.  Once afloat, we are at the mercy
of the winds and waves.  Pathfinder will tell you that he
who begins to chase the deer in the morning cannot tell
where he will sleep at night."

"But we are not chasing a deer, nor is it morning: so
Pathfinder's moral is thrown away."

"Although we are not chasing a deer, we are after that
which may be as hard to catch.  I can tell you no more
than I have said already; for it is our duty to be close-
mouthed, whether anything depends on it or not.  I am
afraid, however, I shall not keep you long enough in the
_Scud_ to show you what she can do at need."

"I think a woman unwise who ever marries a sailor,"
said Mabel abruptly, and almost involuntarily.

"This is a strange opinion; why do you hold it?"

"Because a sailor's wife is certain to have a rival in his
vessel.  My uncle Cap, too, says that a sailor should never
marry."

"He means salt-water sailors," returned Jasper, laugh-
ing.  "If he thinks wives not good enough for those who
sail on the ocean, he will fancy them just suited to those
who sail on the lakes.  I hope, Mabel, you do not take
your opinions of us fresh-water mariners from all that
Master Cap says."

"Sail, ho!" exclaimed the very individual of whom they
were conversing; "or boat, ho! would be nearer the truth."

Jasper ran forward; and, sure enough, a small object
was discernible about a hundred yards ahead of the cutter,
and nearly on her lee bow.  At the first glance, he saw it
was a bark canoe; for, though the darkness prevented hues
from being distinguished, the eye that had become accus-
tomed to the night might discern forms at some little dis-
tance; and the eye which, like Jasper's, had long been
familiar with things aquatic, could not be at a loss in dis-
covering the outlines necessary to come to the conclusion
he did.

"This may be an enemy," the young man remarked;
"and it may be well to overhaul him."

"He is paddling with all his might, lad," observed the
Pathfinder, "and means to cross your bows and get to
windward, when you might as well chase a full-grown buck
on snow-shoes!"

"Let her luff," cried Jasper to the man at the helm.
"Luff up, till she shakes.  There, steady, and hold all that."

The helmsman complied; and, as the _Scud_ was now
dashing the water aside merrily, a minute or two put the
canoe so far to leeward as to render escape impracticable.
Jasper now sprang to the helm himself and, by judicious
and careful handling, he got so near his chase that it was
secured by a boat-hook.  On receiving an order, the two
persons who were in the canoe left it, and no sooner had
they reached the deck of the cutter than they were found
to be Arrowhead and his wife.



CHAPTER XV.

What pearl is it that rich men cannot buy,
That learning is too proud to gather up;
But which the poor and the despised of all
Seek and obtain, and often find unsought?
Tell me -- and I will tell thee what is truth.
COWPER.


The meeting with the Indian and his wife excited no
surprise in the majority of those who witnessed the occur-
rence; but Mabel, and all who knew of the manner in
which this chief had been separated from the party of Cap,
simultaneously entertained suspicions, which it was far
easier to feel than to follow out by any plausible clue to
certainty.  Pathfinder, who alone could converse freely
with the prisoners, for such they might now be considered,
took Arrowhead aside, and held a long conversation with
him, concerning the reasons of the latter for having de-
serted his charge and the manner in which he had been
since employed.

The Tuscarora met these inquiries, and he gave his an-
swers with the stoicism of an Indian.  As respects the sep-
aration, his excuses were very simply made, and they seemed
to be sufficiently plausible.  When he found that the party
was discovered in its place of concealment, he naturally
sought his own safety, which he secured by plunging into
the woods.  In a word, he had run away in order to save
his life.

"This is well," returned Pathfinder, affecting to believe
the other's apologies; "my brother did very wisely; but
his woman followed?"

"Do not the pale-faces' women follow their husbands?
Would not Pathfinder have looked back to see if one he
loved was coming?"

This appeal was made to the guide while he was in a
most fortunate frame of mind to admit its force; for
Mabel and her blandishments and constancy were becom-
ing images familiar to his thoughts.  The Tuscarora,
though he could not trace the reason, saw that his excuse
was admitted, and he stood with quiet dignity awaiting
the next inquiry.

"This is reasonable and natural," returned Pathfinder;
"this is natural, and may be so.  A woman would be likely
to follow the man to whom she had plighted faith, and
husband and wife are one flesh.  Your words are honest,
Tuscarora," changing the language to the dialect of the
other.  "Your words are honest, and very pleasant and
just.  But why has my brother been so long from the fort?
His friends have thought of him often, but have never
seen him."

"If the doe follows the buck, ought not the buck to fol-
low the doe?" answered the Tuscarora, smiling, as he laid
a finger significantly on the shoulder of his interrogator.
"Arrowhead's wife followed Arrowhead; it was right in
Arrowhead to follow his wife.  She lost her way, and they
made her cook in a strange wigwam."

"I understand you, Tuscarora.  The woman fell into
the hands of the Mingos, and you kept upon their trail."

"Pathfinder can see a reason as easily as he can see the
moss on the trees.  It is so."

"And how long have you got the woman back, and in
what manner has it been done?"

"Two suns.  The Dew-of-June was not long in coming
when her husband whispered to her the path."

"Well, well, all this seems natural, and according to
matrimony.  But, Tuscarora, how did you get that canoe,
and why are you paddling towards the St. Lawrence in-
stead of the garrison?"

"Arrowhead can tell his own from that of another.
This canoe is mine; I found it on the shore near the fort."

"That sounds reasonable, too, for the canoe does belong
to the man, and an Indian would make few words about
taking it.  Still, it is extraordinary that we saw nothing
of the fellow and his wife, for the canoe must have left
the river before we did ourselves."

This idea, which passed rapidly through the mind of
the guide, was now put to the Indian in the shape of a
question.

"Pathfinder knows that a warrior can have shame.  The
father would have asked me for his daughter, and I could
not give her to him.  I sent the Dew-of-June for the canoe,
and no one spoke to the woman.  A Tuscarora woman
would not be free in speaking to strange men."

All this, too, was plausible, and in conformity with In-
dian character and customs.  As was usual, Arrowhead
had received one half of his compensation previously to
quitting the Mohawk; and his refraining to demand the
residue was a proof of that conscientious consideration of
mutual rights that quite as often distinguishes the moral-
ity of a savage as that of a Christian.  To one as upright
as Pathfinder, Arrowhead had conducted himself with
delicacy and propriety, though it would have been more
in accordance with his own frank nature to have met the
father, and abided by the simple truth.  Still, accustomed
to the ways of Indians, he saw nothing out of the ordinary
track of things in the course the other had taken.

"This runs like water flowing down hill, Arrowhead,"
he answered, after a little reflection, "and truth obliges me
to own it.  It was the gift of a red-skin to act in this way,
though I do not think it was the gift of a pale-face.  You
would not look upon the grief of the girl's father?"

Arrowhead made a quiet inclination of the body as if
to assent.

"One thing more my brother will tell me," continued
PaLhfinder, "and there will be no cloud between his wig-
wam and the strong-house of the Yengeese.  If he can
blow away this bit of fog with his breath, his friends will
look at him as he sits by his own fire, and he can look at
them as they lay aside their arms, and forget that they are
warriors.  Why was the head of Arrowhead's canoe looking
towards the St. Lawrence, where there are none but ene-
mies to be found?"

"Why were the Pathfinder and his friends looking the
same way?" asked the Tuscarora calmly.  "A Tuscarora
may look in the same direction as a Yengeese."

"Why, to own the truth, Arrowhead, we are out scouting
like; that is, sailing -- in other words, we are on the king's
business, and we have a right to be here, though we may
not have a right to say _why_ we are here."

"Arrowhead saw the big canoe, and he loves to look on
the face of Eau-douce.  He was going towards the sun at
evening in order to seek his wigwam; but, finding that
the young sailor was going the other way, he turned that
he might look in the same direction.  Eau-douce and
Arrowhead were together on the last trail."

"This may all be true, Tuscarora, and you are welcome.
You shall eat of our venison, and then we must separate.
The setting sun is behind us, and both of us move quick:
my brother will get too far from that which he seeks,
unless he turns round."

Pathfinder now returned to the others, and repeated
the result of his examination.  He appeared himself to
believe that the account of Arrowhead might be true,
though he admitted that caution would be prudent with
one he disliked; but his auditors, Jasper excepted, seemed
less disposed to put faith in the explanations.

"This chap must be ironed at once, brother Dunham,"
said Cap, as soon as Pathfinder finished his narration;
"he must be turned over to the master-at-arms, if there
is any such officer on fresh water, and a court-martial
ought to be ordered as soon as we reach port."

"I think it wisest to detain the fellow," the Sergeant
answered; "but irons are unnecessary so long as he re-
mains in the cutter.  In the morning the matter shall be
inquired into."

Arrowhead was now summoned and told the decision.
The Indian listened gravely, and made no objections.  On
the contrary, he submitted with the calm and reserved
dignity with which the American aborigines are known to
yield to fate; and he stood apart, an attentive but calm
observer of what was passing.  Jasper caused the cutter's
sails to be filled, and the _Scud_ resumed her course.

It was now getting near the hour to set the watch, and
when it was usual to retire for the night.  Most of the
party went below, leaving no one on deck but Cap, the
Sergeant, Jasper, and two of the crew.  Arrowhead and
his wife also remained, the former standing aloof in proud
reserve, and the latter exhibiting, by her attitude and pas-
siveness, the meek humility that characterizes an Indian
woman.

"You will find a place for your wife below, Arrowhead,
where my daughter will attend to her wants," said the
Sergeant kindly, who was himself on the point of quitting
the deck; "yonder is a sail where you may sleep yourself."

"I thank my father.  The Tuscaroras are not poor.  The
woman will look for my blankets in the canoe."

"As you wish, my friend.  We think it necessary to de-
tain you; but not necessary to confine or to maltreat you.
Send your squaw into the canoe for the blankets and you
may follow her yourself, and hand us up the paddles.  As
there may be some sleepy heads in the _Scud_, Eau-douce,"
added the Sergeant in a lower tone, "it may be well to
secure the paddles."

Jasper assented, and Arrowhead and his wife, with
whom resistance appeared to be out of the question, silently
complied with the directions.  A few expressions of sharp
rebuke passed from the Indian to his wife, while both
were employed in the canoe, which the latter received with
submissive quiet, immediately repairing an error she had
made by laying aside the blanket she had taken and search-
ing for another that was more to her tyrant's mind.

"Come, bear a hand, Arrowhead," said the Sergeant, who
stood on the gunwale overlooking the movements of the
two, which were proceeding too slowly for the impatience
of a drowsy man; "it is getting late; and we soldiers have
such a thing as reveille -- early to bed and early to rise."

"Arrowhead is coming," was the answer, as the Tusca-
rora stepped towards the head of his canoe.

One blow of his keen knife severed the rope which held
the boat, and then the cutter glanced ahead, leaving the
light bubble of bark, which instantly lost its way, almost
stationary.  So suddenly and dexterously was this manoeu-
vre performed, that the canoe was on the lee quarter of
the _Scud_ before the Sergeant was aware of the artifice, and
quite in her wake ere he had time to announce it to his
companions.

"Hard-a-lee!" shouted Jasper, letting fly the jib-sheet
with his own hands, when the cutter came swiftly up to
the breeze, with all her canvas flapping, or was running
into the wind's eye, as seamen term it, until the light craft
was a hundred feet to windward of her former position.
Quick and dexterous as was this movement, and ready as
had been the expedient, it was not quicker or more ready
than that of the Tuscarora.  With an intelligence that
denoted some familiarity with vessels, he had seized his
paddle and was already skimming the water, aided by the
efforts of his wife.  The direction he took was south-
westerly, or on a line that led him equally towards the
wind and the shore, while it also kept him so far aloof
from the cutter as to avoid the danger of the latter falling
on board of him when she filled on the other tack.  Swiftly
as the _Scud_ had shot into the wind, and far as she had
forced ahead, Jasper knew it was necessary to cast her ere
she had lost all her way; and it was not two minutes from
the time the helm had been put down before the lively
little craft was aback forward, and rapidly falling off, in
order to allow her sails to fill on the opposite tack.

"He will escape!" said Jasper the instant he caught a
glimpse of the relative bearings of the cutter and the
canoe.  "The cunning knave is paddling dead to wind-
ward, and the _Scud_ can never overtake him!"

"You have a canoe!" exclaimed the Sergeant, mani-
festing the eagerness of a boy to join in the pursuit; "let
us launch it, and give chase!"

"It will be useless.  If Pathfinder had been on deck,
there might have been a chance; but there is none now.
To launch the canoe would have taken three or four min-
utes, and the time lost would be sufficient for the purposes
of Arrowhead."

Both Cap and the Sergeant saw the truth of this, which
would have been nearly self-evident even to one unaccus-
tomed to vessels.  The shore was distant less than half a
mile, and the canoe was already glancing into its shadows,
at a rate to show that it would reach the land before its
pursuers could probably get half the distance.  The helm
of the _Scud_ was reluctantly put up again, and the cutter
wore short round on her heel, coming up to her course on
the other tack, as if acting on an instinct.  All this was
done by Jasper in profound silence, his assistants under-
standing what was necessary, and lending their aid in a
sort of mechanical imitation.  While these manoeuvres
were in the course of execution, Cap took the Sergeant by
a button, and led him towards the cabin-door, where he
was out of ear-shot, and began to unlock his stores of
thought.

"Hark'e, brother Dunham," said he, with an ominous
face, "this is a matter that requires mature thought and
much circumspection."

"The life of a soldier, brother Cap, is one of constant
thought and circumspection.  On this frontier, were we
to overlook either, our scalps might be taken from our
heads in the first nap."

"But I consider this capture of Arrowhead as a circum-
stance; and I might add his escape as another.  This Jas-
per Freshwater must look to it."

"They are both circumstances truly, brother; but they
tell different ways.  If it is a circumstance against the
lad that the Indian has escaped, it is a circumstance in
his favor that he was first taken."

"Ay, ay, but two circumstances do not contradict each
other like two negatives.  If you will follow the advice of
an old seaman, Sergeant, not a moment is to be lost in
taking the steps necessary for the security of the vessel and
all on board of her.  The cutter is now slipping through
the water at the rate of six knots, and as the distances are
so short on this bit of a pond, we may all find ourselves in
a French port before morning, and in a French prison
before night."

"This may be true enough.  What would you advise
me to do, brother?"

"In my opinion you should put this Master Freshwater
under arrest on the spot; send him below under the
charge of a sentinel, and transfer the command of the
cutter to me.  All this you have power to perform, the
craft belonging to the army, and you being the command-
ing officer of the troops present."

Sergeant Dunham deliberated more than an hour on
the propriety of this proposal; for, though sufficiently
prompt when his mind was really made up, he was habit-
ually thoughtful and wary.  The habit of superintending
the personal police of the garrison had made him ac-
quainted with character, and he had long been disposed to
think well of Jasper.  Still that subtle poison, suspicion,
had entered his soul; and so much were the artifices and
intrigues of the French dreaded, that, especially warned
as he had been by his commander, it is not to be wondered
that the recollection of years of good conduct should van-
ish under the influence of a distrust so keen, and seemingly
so plausible.  In this embarrassment the Sergeant consulted
the Quartermaster, whose opinion, as his superior, he felt
bound to respect, though at the moment independent of
his control.  It is an unfortunate occurrence for one who
is in a dilemma to ask advice of another who is desirous
of standing well in his favor, the party consulted being
almost certain to try to think in the manner which will be
the most agreeable to the party consulting.  In the present
instance it was equally unfortunate, as respects a candid
consideration of the subject, that Cap, instead of the Ser-
geant himself, made the statement of the case; for the
earnest old sailor was not backward in letting his listener
perceive to which side he was desirous that the Quarter-
master should lean.  Lieutenant Muir was much too pol-
itic to offend the uncle and father of the woman he hoped
and expected to win, had he really thought the case ad-
mitted of doubt; but, in the manner in which the facts
were submitted to him, he was seriously inclined to think
that it would be well to put the control of the _Scud_ tem-
porarily into the managoment of Cap, as a precaution
against treachery.  This opinion then decided the Ser-
geant, who forthwith set about the execution of the neces-
sary measures.

Without entering into any explanations, Sergeant Dun-
ham simply informed Jasper that he felt it to be his duty
to deprive him temporarily of the command of the cutter,
and to confer it on his own brother-in-law.  A natural and
involuntary burst of surprise, which escaped the young
man, was met by a quiet remark, reminding him that mili-
tary service was often of a nature that required conceal-
ment, and a declaration that the present duty was of such
a character that this particular arrangement had become
indispensable.  Although Jasper's astonishment remained
undiminished, -- the Sergeant cautiously abstaining from
making any allusion to his suspicions, -- the young man
was accustomed to obey with military submission; and he
quietly acquiesced, with his own mouth directing the little
crew to receive their further orders from Cap until another
change should be effected.  When, however, he was told
the case required that not only he himself, but his princi-
pal assistant, who, on account of his long acquaintance
with the lake, was usually termed the pilot, were to remain
below, there was an alteration in his countenance and
manner that denoted strong feeling, though it was so well
mastered as to leave even the distrustful Cap in doubt as
to its meaning.  As a matter of course, however, when dis-
trust exists, it was not long before the worst construction
was put upon it.

As soon as Jasper and the pilot were below, the sentinel
at the hatch received private orders to pay particular at-
tention to both; to allow neither to come on deck again
without giving instant notice to the person who might
then be in charge of the cutter, and to insist on his return
below as soon as possible.  This precaution, however, was
uncalled for; Jasper and his assistant both throwing them-
selves silently on their pallets, which neither quitted again
that night.

"And now, Sergeant," said Cap, as soon as he found
himself master of the deck, "you will just have the good-
ness to give me the courses and distance, that I may see
the boat keeps her head the right way."

"I know nothing of either, brother Cap," returned Dun-
ham, not a little embarrassed at the question.  "We must
make the best of our way to the station among the Thou-
sand Islands, where 'we shall land, relieve the party that is
already out, and get information for our future govern-
ment.'  That's it, nearly word for word, as it stands in the
written orders."

"But you can muster a chart -- something in the way of
bearings and distances, that I may see the road?"

"I do not think Jasper ever had anything of the sort to
go by."

"No chart, Sergeant Dunham!"

"Not a scrap of a pen even.  Our sailors navigate this
lake without any aid from maps."

"The devil they do!  They must be regular Yahoos.
And do you suppose, Sergeant Dunham, that I can find
one island out of a thousand without knowing its name or
its position, without even a course or a distance?"

"As for the _name_, brother Cap, you need not be particu-
lar, for not one of the whole thousand _has_ a name, and so
a mistake can never be made on that score.  As for the
position, never having been there myself, I can tell you
nothing about it, nor do I think its position of any par-
ticular consequence, provided we find the spot.  Perhaps
one of the hands on deck can tell us the way."

"Hold on, Sergeant -- hold on a moment, if you please,
Sergeant Dunham.  If I am to command this craft, it
must be done, if you please, without holding any councils
of war with the cook and cabin-boy.  A ship-master is a
ship-master, and he must have an opinion of his own, even
if it be a wrong one.  I suppose you know service well
enough to understand that it is better in a commander to
go wrong than to go nowhere.  At all events, the Lord
High Admiral couldn't command a yawl with dignity, if
he consulted the cockswain every time he wished to go
ashore.  No sir, if I sink, I sink! but, d--- me, I'll go down
ship-shape and with dignity."

"But, brother Cap, I have no wish to go down anywhere,
unless it be to the station among the Thousand Islands
whither we are bound."

"Well, well, Sergeant, rather than ask advice -- that is,
direct, barefaced advice -- of a foremast hand, or any other
than a quarter-deck officer, I would go round to the whole
thousand, and examine tbem one by one until we got the
right haven.  But there is such a thing as coming at an
opinion without manifesting ignorance, and I will manage
to rouse all there is out of these hands, and make them
think all the while that I am cramming them with my own
experience!  We are sometimes obliged to use the glass at
sea when there is nothing in sight, or to heave the lead
long before we strike soundings.  When a youngster,
sailed two v'y'ges with a man who navigated his ship pretty
much by the latter sort of information, which sometimes
answers."

"I know we are steering in the right direction at pres-
ent," returned the Sergeant; "but in the course of a few
hours we shall be up with a headland, where we must feel
our way with more caution."

"Leave me to pump the man at the wheel, brother, and
you shall see that I will make him suck in a very few
minutes."

Cap and the Sergeant now walked aft, until they stood
by the sailor who was at the helm, Cap maintaining an air
of security and tranquillity, like one who was entirely con-
fident of his own powers.

"This is a wholesome air, my lad," Cap observed, in the
manner that a superior on board a vessel sometimes conde-
scends to use to a favored inferior.  "Of course you have
it in this fashion off the land every night?"

"At this season of the year, sir," the man returned,
touching his hat, out of respect, to his new commander
and Sergeant Dunham's connection.

"The same thing, I take it, among the Thousand Is-
lands?  The wind will stand, of course, though we shall
then have land on every side of us."

"When we get farther east, sir, the wind will probably
shift, for there can then be no particular land-breeze.

"Ay,ay; so much for your fresh water!  It has always
some trick that is opposed to nature.  Now, down among
the West India Islands, one is just as certain of having a
land-breeze as he is of having a sea-breeze.  In that respect
there is no difference, though it's quite in rule it should
be different up here on this bit of fresh water.  Of course,
my lad, you know all about these said Thousand Islands?"

"Lord bless you, Master Cap, nobody knows all about
them or anything about them.  They are a puzzle to the
oldest sailor on the lake, and we don't pretend to know
even their names.  For that matter, most of them have
no more names than a child that dies before it is chris-
tened."

"Are you a Roman Catholic?" demanded the Sergeant
sharply.

"No, sir, nor anything else.  I'm a generalizer about
religion, never troubling that which don't trouble me."

"Hum! a generalizer; that is, no doubt, one of the new
sects that afflict the country," muttered Mr. Dunham,
whose grandfather had been a New Jersey Quaker, his
father a Presbyterian, and who had joined the Church of
England himself after he entered the army.

"I take it, John -- " resumed Cap.  "Your name is Jack,
I believe?"

"No, sir; I am called Robert."

"Ay, Robert, it's very much the same thing, Jack or
Bob; we use the two indifferently.  I say, Bob, it's good
holding ground, is it, down at this same station for which
we are bound?"

"Bless you, sir!  I know no more about it than one of the
Mohawks, or a soldier of the 55th."

"Did you never anchor there?"

"Never, sir.  Master Eau-douce always makes fast to
the shore."

"But in running in for the town, you kept the lead
going, out of question, and must have tallowed as usual."

"Tallow! -- and town, too!  Bless your heart, Master
Cap! there is no more town than there is on your chin,
and not half as much tallow!"

The Sergeant smiled grimly, but his brother-in-law did
not detect this proof of humor.

"No church tower, nor light, nor fort, ha?  There is a
garrison, as you call it hereaway, at least?"

"Ask Sergeant Dunham, sir, if you wish to know that.
All the garrison is on board the _Scud_."

"But in running in, Bob, which of the channels do you
think the best? the one you went last, or -- or -- or -- ay, or
the other?"

"I can't say, sir; I know nothing of either."

"You didn't go to sleep, fellow, at the wheel, did you?"

"Not at the wheel, sir, but down in the fore-peak in my
berth.  Eau-douce sent us below, soldiers and all, with the
exception of the pilot, and we know no more of the road
than if we had never been over it.  This he has always
done in going in and coming out; and, for the life of me,
I could tell you nothing of the channel, or the course, after
we are once fairly up with the islands.  No one knows
anything of either but Jasper and the pilot."

"Here is a circumstance for you, Sergeant," said Cap,
leading his brother-in-law a little aside; "there is no one
on board to pump, for they all suck from ignorance at the
first stroke of the brake.  How the devil am I to find the
way to this station for which we are bound?"

"Sure enough, brother Cap, your question is more easily
put than answered.  Is there no such thing as figuring it
out by navigation?  I thought you salt-water mariners
were able to do as small a thing as that.  I have often
read of their discovering islands, surely."

"That you have, brother, that you have; and this dis-
covery would be the greatest of them all; for it would not
only be discovering one island, but one island out of a
thousand."

"Still, the sailors of the lake have a method of finding
the places they wish to go to."

"If I have understood you, Sergeant, this station or
block-house is particularly private."

"It is, indeed, the utmost care having been taken to
prevent a knowledge of its position from reaching the
enemy."

"And you expect me, a stranger on your lake, to find
this place without chart, course, distance, latitude, longi-
tude, or soundings, -- ay, d--- me, or tallow!  Allow me to
ask if you think a mariner runs by his nose, like one of
Pathfinder's hounds?"

"Well, brother, you may yet learn something by ques-
tioning the young man at the helm; I can hardly think
that he is as ignorant as he pretends to be."

"Hum! -- this looks like another circumstance.  For
that matter, the case is getting to be so full of circum-
stances that one hardly knows how to foot up the evidence.
But we will soon see how much the lad knows."

Cap and the Sergeant now returned to their station near
the helm, and the former renewed his inquiries.

"Do you happen to know what may be the latitude and
longitude of this said island, my lad?" he asked.

"The what, sir?"

"Why, the latitude or longitude -- one or both; I'm not
particular which, as I merely inquire in order to see how
they bring up young men on this bit of fresh water."

"I'm not particular about either myself, sir, and so I do
not happen to know what you mean."

"Not what I mean!  You know what latitude is?"

"Not I, sir!" returned the man, hesitating.  "Though
I believe it is French for the upper lakes."

"Whe-e-e-w-!" whistled Cap, drawing out his
breath like the broken stop of an organ; "latitude, French
for upper lakes!  Hark'e, young man, do you know what
longitude means?"

"I believe I do, sir; that is, five feet six, the regulation
height for soldiers in the king's service."

"There's the longitude found out for you, Sergeant, in
the rattling of a brace-block!  You have some notion
about a degree, and minutes and seconds, I hope?"

"Yes, sir; degree means my betters; and minutes and
seconds are for the short or long log-lines.  We all know
these things as well as the salt-water people."

"D--- me, brother Dunham, if I think even Faith can
get along on this lake, much as they say it can do with
mountains.  Well, my lad, you understand the azimuth,
and measuring distances, and how to box the compass."

"As for the first, sir, I can't say I do.  The distances we
all know, as we measure them from point to point; and
as for boxing the compass, I will turn my back to no ad-
miral in his Majesty's fleet.  Nothe, nothe and by east,
nothe, nothe-east, nothe-east and by nothe, nothe-east,
nothe-east and by east, east-nothe-east, east and by nothe-
east -- "

"That will do, that will do.  You'll bring about a shift
of wind if you go on in this manner.  I see very plainly,
Sergeant," walking away again, and dropping his voice,
"we've nothing to hope for from that chap.  I'll stand
on two hours longer on this tack, when we'll heave-to and
get the soundings, after which we will be governed by
circumstances."

To this the Sergeant made no objections; and as the
wind grew lighter, as usual with the advance of night, and
there were no immediate obstacles to the navigation, he
made a bed of a sail on deck, and was soon lost in the
sound sleep of a soldier.  Cap continued to walk the deck,
for he was one whose iron frame set fatigue at defiance,
and not once that night did he close his eyes.

It was broad daylight when Sergeant Dunham awoke,
and the exclamation of surprise that escaped him, as he
rose to his feet and began to look about him, was stronger
than it was usual for one so drilled to suffer to be heard.
He found the weather entirely changed, the view bounded
by driving mist that limited the visible horizon to a circle
of about a mile in diameter, the lake raging and covered
with foam, and the _Scud_ lying-to.  A brief conversation
with his brother-in-law let him into the secrets of all these
sudden changes.

According to the account of Master Cap, the wind had
died away to a calm about midnight, or just as he was
thinking of heaving-to, to sound, for islands ahead were
beginning to be seen.  At one A.M. it began to blow from
the north-east, accompanied by a drizzle, and he stood off
to the northward and westward, knowing that the coast of
New York lay in the opposite direction.  At half-past
one he stowed the flying-jib, reefed the mainsail, and took
the bonnet off the jib.  At two he was compelled to get a
second reef aft; and by half-past two he had put a bal-
ance-reef in the sail, and was lying-to.

"I can't say but the boat behaves well, Sergeant," the
old sailor added, "but it blows forty-two pounders.  I had
no idea there were any such currents of air up here on
this bit of fresh water, though I care not the knotting of
a yarn for it, as your lake has now somewhat of a natural
look; and if this d----d water had a savor of salt about it,
one might be comfortable."

"How long have you been heading in this direction,
brother Cap?" inquired the prudent soldier; "and at
what rate may we be going through the water?"

"Why, two or three hours, mayhap, and she went like a
horse for the first pair of them.  Oh, we've a fine offing
now! for, to own the truth, little relishing the neighbor-
hood of them said islands, although they are to windward,
I took the helm myself, and run her off free for some
league or two.  We are well to leeward of them, I'll engage
- I say to leeward; for though one might wish to be well
to windward of one island, or even half a dozen, when it
comes to a thousand, the better way is to give it up at
once, and to slide down under their lee as fast as possible.
No, no; there they are up yonder in the dingle; and there
they may stay, for anything Charles Cap cares."

"As the north shore lies only some five or six leagues
from us, brother, and I know there is a large bay in that
quarter, might it not be well to consult some of the crew
concerning our position, if, indeed, we do not call up Jas-
per Eau-douce, and tell him to carry us back to Oswego?
For it is quite impossible we should ever reach the station
with this wind directly in our teeth."

"There are several serious professional reasons, Sergeant,
against all your propositions.  In the first place, an ad-
mission of ignorance on the part of a commander would
destroy discipline.  No matter, brother; I understand
your shake of the head, but nothing capsizes discipline so
much as to confess ignorance.  I once knew a master of a
vessel who went a week on a wrong course rather than
allow he had made a mistake; and it was surprising how
much he rose in the opinions of his people, just because
they could not understand him."

"That may do on salt water, brother Cap, but it will
hardly do on fresh.  Rather than wreck my command on
the Canada shore, I shall feel it a duty to take Jasper out
of arrest."

"And make a haven in Frontenac.  No, Sergeant; the
_Scud_ is in good hands, and will now learn something of
seamanship.  We have a fine offing, and no one but a mad-
man would think of going upon a coast in a gale like this.
I shall ware every watch, and then we shall be safe against
all dangers but those of the drift, which, in a light low
craft like this, without top-hamper, will be next to noth-
ing.  Leave it all to me, Sergeant, and I pledge you the
character of Charles Cap that all will go well."

Sergeant Dunham was fain to yield.  He had great con-
fidence in his connection's professional skill, and hoped
that he would take such care of the cutter as would amply
justify his opinion of him.  On the other hand, as dis-
trust, like care, grows by what it feeds on, he entertained
so much apprehension of treachery, that he was quite will-
ing any one but Jasper should just then have the control
of the fate of the whole party.  Truth, moreover, compels
us to admit another motive.  The particular duty on which
he was now sent of right should have been confided to a
commissioned officer; and Major Duncan had excited a
good deal of discontent among the subalterns of the gar-
rison, by having confided it to one of the Sergeant's hum-
ble station.  To return without having even reached the
point of destination, therefore, the latter felt would be a
failure from which he was not likely soon to recover, and
the measure would at once be the means of placing a supe-
rior in his shoes.



CHAPTER XVI.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,
Calm or convulsed -- in breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark-heaving; -- boundless, endless, and sublime --
The image of eternity; the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
BYRON.


As the day advanced, that portion of the inmates of the
vessel which had the liberty of doing so appeared on deck.
As yet the sea was not very high, from which it was inferred
that the cutter was still under the lee of the islands; but
it was apparent to all who understood the lake that they
were about to experience one of the heavy autumnal gales
of that region.  Land was nowhere visible; and the hori-
zon on every side exhibited that gloomy void, which lends
to all views on vast bodies of water the sublimity of mys-
tery.  The swells, or, as landsmen term them, the waves,
were short and curling, breaking of necessity sooner than
the longer seas of the ocean; while the element itself, in-
stead of presenting that beautiful hue which rivals the deep
tint of the southern sky, looked green and angry, though
wanting in the lustre that is derived from the rays of the
sun.

The soldiers were soon satisfied with the prospect, and
one by one they disappeared, until none were left on deck
but the crew, the Sergeant, Cap, Pathfinder, the Quarter-
master, and Mabel.  There was a shade on the brow of the
last, who had been made acquainted with the real state of
things, and who had fruitlessly ventured an appeal in favor
of Jasper's restoration to the command.  A night's rest
and a night's reflection appeared also to have confirmed
the Pathfinder in his opinion of the young man's inno-
cence; and he, too, had made a warm appeal on behalf of
his friend, though with the same want of success.

Several hours passed away, the wind gradually getting
heavier and the sea rising, until the motion of the cutter
compelled Mabel and the Quartermaster to retreat also.
Cap wore several times; and it was now evideut that the
_Scud_ was drifting into the broader and deeper parts of the
lake, the seas raging down upon her in a way that none
but a vessel of superior mould and build could have long
ridden and withstood.  All this, however, gave Cap no
uneasiness; but, like the hunter that pricks his ears at the
sound of the horn, or the war-horse that paws and snorts
with pleasure at the roll of the drum, the whole scene
awakened all that was man within him; and instead of the
captious, supercilious, and dogmatic critic, quarrelling with
trifles and exaggerating immaterial things, he began to
exhibit the qualities of the hardy and experienced seaman
which he truly was.  The hands soon imbibed a respect
for his skill; and, though they wondered at the disappear-
ance of their old commander and the pilot, for which no
reason had been publicly given, they soon yielded an im-
plicit and cheerful obedience to the new one.

"This bit of fresh water, after all, brother Dunham, has
some spirit, I find," cried Cap about noon, rubbing his
hands in pure satisfaction at finding himself once more
wrestling with the elements.  "The wind seems to be an
honest old-fashioned gale, and the seas have a fanciful re-
semblance to those of the Gulf Stream.  I like this, Ser-
geant, I like this, and shall get to respect your lake, if it
hold out twenty-four hours longer in the fashion in which
it has begun."

"Land, ho!" shouted the man who was stationed on the
forecastle.

Cap hurried forward; and there, sure enough, the land
was visible through the drizzle, at the distance of about
half a mile, the cutter heading directly towards it.  The
first impulse of the old seaman was to give an order to
"stand by, to ware off shore;" but the cool-headed soldier
restrained him.

"By going a little nearer," said the Sergeant, "some of
us may recognize the place.  Most of us know the Ameri-
can shore in this part of the lake; and it will be something
gained to learn our position."

"Very true, very true; if, indeed, there is any chance of
that we will hold on.  What is this off here, a little on
our weather-bow?  It looks like a low headland."

"The garrison, by Jove!" exclaimed the other, whose
trained eye sooner recognized the military outlines than
the less instructed senses of his connection.

The Sergeant was not mistaken.  There was the fort,
sure enough, though it looked dim and indistinct through
the fine rain, as if it were seen in the dusk of evening or
the haze of morning.  The low, sodded, and verdant ram-
parts, the sombre palisdes, now darker than ever with
water, the roof of a house or two, the tall, solitary flagstaff,
with its halyards blown steadily out into a curve that ap-
peared traced in immovable lines in the air, were all soon
to be seen though no sign of animated life could be dis-
covered.  Even the sentinel was housed; and at first it
was believed that no eye would detect the presence of their
own vessel.  But the unceasing vigilance of a border gar-
rison did not slumber: one of the look-outs probably made
the interesting discovery; a man or two were seen on some
elevated stands, and then the entire ramparts next the lake
were dotted with human beings.

The whole scene was one in which sublimity was singu-
larly relieved by the picturesque.  The raging of the tem-
pest had a character of duration that rendered it easy to
imagine it might be a permanent feature of the spot.  The
roar of the wind was without intermission, and the raging
water answered to its dull but grand strains with hissing
spray, a menacing wash, and sullen surges.  The drizzle
made a medium for the eye which closely resembled that
of a thin mist, softening and rendering mysterious the im-
ages it revealed, while the genial feeling that is apt to ac-
company a gale of wind on water contributed to aid the
milder influences of the moment.  The dark interminable
forest hove up out of the obscurity, grand, sombre, and
impressive, while the solitary, peculiar, and picturesque
glimpses of life that were caught in and about the fort,
formed a refuge for the eye to retreat to when oppressed
with the more imposing objects of nature.

"They see us," said the Sergeant, "and think we have
returned on account of the gale, and have fallen to leeward
of the port.  Yes, there is Major Duncan himself on the
north-eastern bastion; I know him by his height, and by
the officers around him."

"Sergeant, it would be worth standing a little jeering, if
we could fetch into the river, and come safely to an anchor.
In that case, too, we might land this Master Eau-douce,
and purify the boat."

"It would indeed; but, as poor a sailor as I am, I well
know it cannot be done.  Nothing that sails the lake can
turn to windward against this gale; and there is no an-
chorage outside in weather like this."

"I know it, I see it, Sergeant; and pleasant as is that
sight to you landsmen, we must leave it.  For myself, I
am never so happy in heavy weather as when I am certain
that the land is behind me."

The _Scud_ had now forged so near in, that it became in-
dispensable to lay her head off shore again, and the neces-
sary orders were given.  The storm-staysail was set forward,
the gaff lowered, the helm put up, and the light craft, that
seemed to sport with the elements like a duck, fell off a
little, drew ahead swiftly, obeyed her rudder, and was soon
flying away on the top of the surges, dead before the gale.
While making this rapid flight, though the land still re-
mained in view on her larboard beam, the fort and the
groups of anxious spectators on its rampart were swallowed
up in the mist.  Then followed the evolutions necessary
to bring the head of the cutter up to the wind, when she
again began to wallow her weary way towards the north
shore.

Hours now passed before any further change was made,
the wind increasing in force, until even the dogmatical
Cap fairly admitted it was blowing a thorough gale of
wind.  About sunset the _Scud_ wore again to keep her off
the north shore during the hours of darkness; and at mid-
night her temporary master, who, by questioning the crew
in an indirect manner, had obtained some general knowl-
edge of the size and shape of the lake, believed himself to
be about midway between the two shores.  The height and
length of the seas aided this impression; and it must be
added that Cap by this time began to feel a respect for
fresh water which twenty-four hours earlier he would have
derided as impossible.  Just as the night turned, the fury
of the wind became so great that he found it impossible to
bear up against it, the water falling on the deck of the lit-
tle craft in such masses as to cause it to shake to the cen-
tre, and, though a vessel of singularly lively qualities, to
threaten to bury it beneath its weight.  The people of the
_Scud_ averred that never before had they been out in such
a tempest, which was true; for, possessing a perfect knowl-
edge of all the rivers and headlands and havens, Jasper
would have carried the cutter in shore long ere this, and
placed her in safety in some secure anchorage.  But Cap
still disdained to consult the young master, who continued
below, determining to act like a mariner of the broad
ocean.

It was one in the morning when the storm-staysail was
again got on the _Scud_, the head of the mainsail lowered,
and the cutter put before the wind.  Although the canvas
now exposed was merely a rag in surface, the little craft
nobly justified the use of the name she bore.  For eight
hours did she scud in truth; and it was almost with the
velocity of the gulls that wheeled wildly over her in the
tempest, apparently afraid to alight in the boiling caldron
of the lake.  The dawn of day brought little change; for
no other horizon became visible than the little circle of
drizzling sky and water already described, in which it
seemed as if the elements were rioting in a sort of chaotic
confusion.  During this time the crew and passengers of
the cutter were of necessity passive.  Jasper and the pilot
remained below; but, the motion of the vessel having be-
come easier, nearly all the rest were on deck.  The morn-
ing meal had been taken in silence, and eye met eye, as if
their owners asked each other, in dumb show, what was to
be the end of this strife in the elements.  Cap, however,
was perfectly composed, and his face brightened, his step
grew firmer, and his whole air more assured, as the storm
increased, making larger demands on his professional skill
and personal spirit.  He stood on the forecastle, his arms
crossed, balancing his body with a seaman's instinct, while
his eyes watched the caps of the seas, as they broke and
glanced past the reeling cutter, itself in such swift motion,
as if they were the scud flying athwart the sky.  At this
sublime instant one of the hands gave the unexpected cry
of "A sail!"

There was so much of the wild and solitary character of
the wilderness about Ontario, that one scarcely expected
to meet with a vessel on its waters.  The _Scud_ herself, to
those who were in her, resembled a man threading the
forest alone, and the meeting was like that of two solitary
hunters beneath the broad canopy of leaves that then cov-
ered so many millions of acres on the continent of America.
The peculiar state of the weather served to increase the
romantic, almost supernatural appearance of the passage.
Cap alone regarded it with practised eyes, and even he felt
his iron nerves thrill under the sensations that were awak-
ened by the wild features of the scene.

The strange vessel was about two cables' length ahead of
the _Scud_, standing by the wind athwart her bows, and
steering a course to render it probable that the latter would
pass within a few yards of her.  She was a full-rigged ship;
and, seen through the misty medium of the tempest, the
most experienced eye could detect no imperfection in her
gear or construction.  The only canvas she had set was a
close-reefed main-topsail, and two small storm-staysails,
one forward and the other aft.  Still the power of the
wind pressed so hard upon her as to bear her down nearly
to her beam-ends, whenever the hull was not righted by
the buoyancy of some wave under her lee.  Her spars were
all in their places, and by her motion through the water,
which might have equalled four knots in the hour, it was
apparent that she steered a little free.

"The fellow must know his position well," said Cap, as
the cutter flew down towards the ship with a velocity
almost equalling that of the gale, "for he is standing boldly
to the southward, where he expects to find anchorage or a
haven.  No man in his senses would run off free in that
fashion, that was not driven to scudding, like ourselves,
who did not perfectly understand where he was going."

"We have made an awful run, captain," returned the
man to whom this remark had been addressed.  "That is
the French king's ship, Lee-my-calm (_Le Montcalm_), and
she is standing in for the Niagara, where her owner has a
garrison and a port.  We've made an awful run of it!"

"Ay, bad luck to him!  Frenchman-like, he skulks into
port the moment he sees an English bottom."

"It might be well for us if we could follow him," re-
turned the man, shaking his head despondingly, "for we
are getting into the end of a bay up here at the head of
the lake, and it is uncertain whether we ever get out of it
again!"

"Pooh, man, pooh!  We have plenty of sea room, and a
good English hull beneath us.  We are no Johnny Crapauds
to hide ourselves behind a point or a fort on account of a
puff of wind.  Mind your helm, sir!"

The order was given on account of the menacing appear-
ance of the approaching passage.  The _Scud_ was now head-
ing directly for the fore-foot of the Frenchman; and, the
distance between the two vessels having diminished to a
hundred yards, it was momentarily questionable if there
was room to pass.

"Port, sir, port," shouted Cap.  "Port your helm and
pass astern!"

The crew of the Frenchman were seen assembling to
windward, and a few muskets were pointed, as if to order
the people of the _Scud_ to keep off.  Gesticulations were
observed, but the sea was too wild and menacing to admit
of the ordinary expedients of war.  The water was drip-
ping from the muzzles of two or three light guns on board
the ship, but no one thought of loosening them for service
in such a tempest.  Her black sides, as they emerged from
a wave, glistened and seemed to frown; but the wind
howled through her rigging, whistling the thousand notes
of a ship; and the hails and cries that escape a Frenchman
with so much readiness were inaudible.

"Let him halloo himself hoarse!" growled Cap.  "This
is no weather to whisper secrets in.  Port, sir, port!"

The man at the helm obeyed, and the next send of the
sea drove the _Scud_ down upon the quarter of the ship, so
near her that the old mariner himself recoiled a step, in a
vague expectation that, at the next surge ahead, she would
drive bows foremost directly into the planks of the other
vessel.  But this was not to be: rising from the crouching
posture she had taken, like a panther about to leap, the
cutter dashed onward, and at the next instant she was
glancing past the stern of her enemy, just clearing the end
of her spanker-boom with her own lower yard.

The young Frenchman who commanded the _Montcalm_
leaped on the taffrail; and, with that high-toned courtesy
which relieves even the worst acts of his countrymen, he
raised his cap and smiled a salutation as the _Scud_ shot
past.  There were _bonhomie_ and good taste in this act of
courtesy, when circumstances allowed of no other commu-
nications; but they were lost on Cap, who, with an instinct
quite as true to his race, shook his fist menacingly, and
muttered to himself, --

"Ay, ay, it's d----d lucky for you I've no armament on
board here, or I'd send you in to get new cabin-windows
fitted.  Sergeant, he's a humbug."

"'Twas civil, brother Cap," returned the other, lowering
his hand from the military salute which his pride as a sol-
dier had induced him to return, -- "'twas civil, and that's
as much as you can expect from a Frenchman.  What he
really meant by it no one can say."

"He is not heading up to this sea without an object,
neither.  Well, let him run in, if he can get there, we will
keep the lake, like hearty English mariners."

This sounded gloriously, but Cap eyed with envy the
glittering black mass of the _Montcalm's_ hull, her waving
topsail, and the misty tracery of her spars, as she grew less
and less distinct, and finally disappeared in the drizzle, in
a form as shadowy as that of some unreal image.  Gladly
would he have followed in her wake had he dared; for, to
own the truth, the prospect of another stormy night in the
midst of the wild waters that were raging around him
brought little consolation.  Still he had too much profes-
sional pride to betray his uneasiness, and those under his
care relied on his knowledge and resources, with the im-
plicit and blind confidence that the ignorant are apt to feel.

A few hours succeeded, and darkness came again to
increase the perils of the _Scud_.  A lull in the gale, how-
ever, had induced Cap to come by the wind once more, and
throughout the night the cutter was lying-to as before,
head-reaching as a matter of course, and occasionally war-
ing to keep off the land.  It is unnecessary to dwell on the
incidents of this night, which resembled those of any other
gale of wind.  There were the pitching of the vessel, the
hissing of the waters, the dashing of spray, the shocks
that menaced annihilation to the little craft as she plunged
into the seas, the undying howl of the wind, and the fear-
ful drift.  The last was the most serious danger; for,
though exceedingly weatherly under her canvas, and to-
tally without top-hamper, the _Scud_ was so light, that the
combing of the swells would seem at times to wash her
down to leeward with a velocity as great as that of the
surges themselves.

During this night Cap slept soundly, and for several
hours.  The day was just dawning when he felt himself
shaken by the shoulder; and arousing himself, he found
the Pathfinder standing at his side.  During the gale the
guide had appeared little on deck, for his natural modesty
told him that seamen alone should interfere with the man-
agement of the vessel; and he was willing to show the
same reliance on those who had charge of the _Scud_, as he
expected those who followed through the forest to mani-
fest in his own skill; but he now thought himself justified
in interfering, which he did in his own unsophisticated
and peculiar manner.

"Sleep is sweet, Master Cap," said he, as soon as the eyes
of the latter were fairly open, and his consciousness had
sufficiently returned, -- "sleep is sweet, as I know from ex-
perience, but life is sweeter still.  Look about you, and say
if this is exactly the moment for a commander to be off
his feet."

"How now? how now, Master Pathfinder?" growled
Cap, in the first moments of his awakened faculties.  "Are
you, too, getting on the side of the grumblers?  When
ashore I admired your sagacity in running through the
worst shoals without a compass; and since we have been
afloat, your meekness and submission have been as pleas-
ant as your confidence on your own ground.  I little ex-
pected such a summons from you."

"As for myself, Master Cap, I feel I have my gifts, and
I believe they'll interfere with those of no other man; but
the case may be different with Mabel Dunham.  She has
her gifts, too, it is true; but they are not rude like ours,
but gentle and womanish, as they ought to be.  It's on
her account that I speak, and not on my own."

"Ay, ay, I begin to understand.  The girl is a good girl,
my worthy friend; but she is a soldier's daughter and a
sailor's niece, and ought not to be too tame or too tender
in a gale.  Does she show any fear?"

"Not she! not she!  Mabel is a woman, but she is rea-
sonable and silent.  Not a word have I heard from her
concerning our doings; though I do think, Master Cap,
she would like it better if Jasper Eau-douce were put into
his proper place, and things were restored to their old sit-
uation, like.  This is human natur'."

"I'll warrant it -- girl-like, and Dunham-like, too.  Any-
thing is better than an old uncle, and everybody knows
more than an old seaman.  _This_ is human natur', Master
Pathfinder, and d--- me if I'm the man to sheer a fathom,
starboard or port, for all the human natur' that can be
found in a minx of twenty -- ay, or" (lowering his voice a
little) "for all that can be paraded in his Majesty's 55th
regiment of foot.  I've not been at sea forty years, to come
up on this bit of fresh water to be taught human natur'.
How this gale holds out!  It blows as hard at this moment
as if Boreas had just clapped his hand upon the bellows.
And what is all this to leeward?" (rubbing his eyes) --
"land! as sure as my name is Cap -- and high land, too."

The Pathfinder made no immediate answer; but, shak-
ing his head, he watched the expression of his companion's
face, with a look of strong anxiety in his own.

"Land, as certain as this is the _Scud!_" repeated Cap;
"a lee shore, and that, too, within a league of us, with as
pretty a line of breakers as one could find on the beach of
all Long Island!"

"And is that encouraging? or is it disheartening?" in-
quired the Pathfinder.

"Ha! encouraging -- disheartening! -- why, neither.  No,
no, there is nothing encouraging about it; and as for dis-
heartening, nothing ought to dishearten a seaman.  You
never get disheartened or afraid in the woods, my friend?"

"I'll not say that, I'll not say that.  When the danger is
great, it is my gift to see it, and know it, and to try to
avoid it; else would my scalp long since have been drying
in a Mingo wigwam.  On this lake, however, I can see no
trail, and I feel it my duty to submit; though I think we
ought to remember there is such a person as Mabel Dun-
ham on board.  But here comes her father, and he will
naturally feel for his own child."

"We are seriously situated, I believe, brother Cap," said
the Sergeant, when he had reached the spot, "by what I
can gather from the two hands on the forecastle?  They
tell me the cutter cannot carry any more sail, and her drift
is so great we shall go ashore in an hour or two.  I hope
their fears have deceived them?"

Cap made no reply; but he gazed at the land with a rue-
ful face, and then looked to windward with an expression
of ferocity, as if he would gladly have quarrelled with the
weather.

"It may be well, brother," the Sergeant continued, "to
send for Jasper and consult him as to what is to be done.
There are no French here to dread; and, under all circum-
stances, the boy will save us from drowning if possible."

"Ay, ay, 'tis these cursed circumstances that have done
all the mischief.  But let the fellow come; let him come;
a few well-managed questions will bring the truth out of
him, I'll warrant you."

This acquiescence on the part of the dogmatical Cap was
no sooner obtained, than Jasper was sent for.  The young
man instantly made his appearance, his whole air, counte-
nance, and mien expressive of mortification, humility, and,
as his observers fancied, rebuked deception.  When he first
stepped on deck, Jasper cast one hurried, anxious glance
around, as if curious to know the situation of the cutter;
and that glance sufficed, it would seem, to let him into the
secret of all her perils.  At first he looked to windward,
as is usual with every seaman; then he turned round the
horizon, until his eye caught a view of the high lands to
leeward, when the whole truth burst upon him at once.

"I've sent for you, Master Jasper," said Cap, folding his
arms, and balancing his body with the dignity of the fore-
castle, "in order to learn something about the haven to
leeward.  We take it for granted you do not bear malice so
hard as to wish to drown us all, especially the women; and
I suppose you will be man enough to help us run the cut-
ter into some safe berth until this bit of a gale has done
blowing!"

"I would die myself rather than harm should come to
Mabel Dunham," the young man earnestly answered.

"I knew it!  I knew it!" cried the Pathfinder, clapping
his hand kindly on Jasper's shoulder.  "The lad is as true
as the best compass that ever ran a boundary, or brought
a man off from a blind trail.  It is a mortal sin to believe
otherwise."

"Humph!" ejaculated Cap; "especially the women!
As if _they_ were in any particular danger.  Never mind,
young man; we shall understand each other by talking
like two plain seamen.  Do you know of any port under
our lee?"

"None.  There is a large bay at this end of the lake; but
it is unknown to us all, and not easy of entrance."

"And this coast to leeward -- it has nothing particular to
recommend it, I suppose?"

"It is a wilderness until you reach the mouth of the Ni-
agara in one direction, and Frontenac in the other.  North
and west, they tell me, there is nothing but forest and
prairies for a thousand miles."

"Thank God! then, there can be no French.  Are there
many savages, hereaway, on the land?"

"The Indians are to be found in all directions; though
they are nowhere very numerous.  By accident, we might
find a party at any point on the shore; or we might pass
months there without seeing one."

"We must take our chauce, then, as to the blackguards;
but, to be frank with you, Master Western, if this little
unpleasant matter about the French had not come to pass,
what would you now do with the cutter?"

"I am a much younger sailor than yourself, Master Cap,"
said Jasper modestly, "and am hardly fitted to advise you."

"Ay, ay, we all know that.  In a common case, perhaps
not.  But this is an uncommon case, and a circumstance;
and on this bit of fresh water it has what may be called its
peculiarities; and so, everything considered, you may be
fitted to advise even your own father.  At all events, you
can speak, and I can judge of your opinions, agreeably to
my own experience."

"I think, sir, before two hours are over, the cutter will
have to anchor."

"Anchor! -- not out here in the lake?"

"No, sir; but in yonder, near the land."

"You do not mean to say, Master Eau-douce, you would
anchor on a lee shore in a gale of wind?"

"If I would save my vessel, that is exactly what I would
do, Master Cap."

"Whe-e-e-w! -- this is fresh water, with a vengeance!
Hark'e, young man, I've been a seafaring animal, boy and
man, forty-one years, and I never yet heard of such a
thing.  I'd throw my ground-tackle overboard before I
would be guilty of so lubberly an act!"

"That is what we do on this lake," modestly replied
Jasper, "when we are hard pressed.  I daresay we might
do better, had we been better taught."

"That you might, indeed!  No; no man induces me to
commit such a sin against my own bringing up.  I should
never dare show my face inside of Sandy Hook again, had
I committed so know-nothing an exploit.  Why, Path-
finder, here, has more seamanship in him than that comes
to.  You can go below again, Master Eau-douce."

Jasper quietly bowed and withdrew; still, as he passed
down the ladder, the spectators observed that he cast a
lingering anxious look at the horizon to windward and the
land to leeward, and then disappeared with concern strongly
expressed in every lineament of his face.



CHAPTER XVII.

His still refuted quirks he still repeats;
New-raised objections with new quibbles meets,
Till sinking in the quicksand he defends,
He dies disputing, and the contest ends.
COWPER.


As the soldier's wife was sick in her berth, Mabel Dun-
ham was the only person in the outer cabin when Jasper
returned to it; for, by an act of grace in the Sergeant, he
had been permitted to resume his proper place in this part
of the vessel.  We should be ascribing too much simplicity
of character to our heroine, if we said that she had felt
no distrust of the young man in consequence of his arrest;
but we should also be doing injustice to her warmth of
feeling and generosity of disposition, if we did not add,
that this distrust was insignificant and transient.  As he
now took his seat near her, his whole countenance clouded
with the uneasiness he felt concerning the situation of the
cutter, everything like suspicion was banished from her
mind, and she saw in him only an injured man.

"You let this affair weigh too heavily on your mind,
Jasper," said she eagerly, or with that forgetfuluess of self
with which the youthful of her sex are wont to betray
their feelings when a strong and generous interest has
attained the ascendency; "no one who knows you can, or
does, believe you guilty.  Pathfinder says he will pledge
his life for you."

"Then you, Mabel," returned the youth, his eyes flashing
fire, "do not look upon me as the traitor your father
seems to believe me to be?"

"My dear father is a soldier, and is obliged to act as one.
My father's daughter is not, and will think of you as she
ought to think of a man who has done so much to serve
her already."

"Mabel, I'm not used to talking with one like you, or
saying all I think and feel with any.  I never had a sister,
and my mother died when I was a child, so that I know
little what your sex most likes to hear -- "

Mabel would have given the world to know what lay be-
hind the teeming word at which Jasper hesitated; but the
indefinable and controlliug sense of womanly diffidence
made her suppress her curiosity.  She waited in silence
for him to explain his own meaning.

"I wish to say, Mabel," the young man continued, after
a pause which he found sufficiently embarrassing, "that
I am unused to the ways and opinions of one like you, and
that you must imagine all I would add."

Mabel had imagination enough to fancy anything, but
there are ideas and feelings that her sex prefer to have ex-
pressed before they yield them all their own sympathies,
and she had a vague consciousness that these of Jasper
might properly be enumerated in the class.  With a readi-
ness that belonged to her sex, therefore, she preferred
changing the discourse to permitting it to proceed any
further in a manner so awkward and so unsatisfactory.

"Tell me one thing, Jasper, and I shall be content," said
she, speaking now with a firinness which denoted confi-
dence, not only in herself, but in her companion: "you do
not deserve this cruel suspicion which rests upon you?"

"I do not, Mabel!" answered Jasper, looking into her
full blue eyes with an openness and simplicity that might
have shaken stronger distrust.  "As I hope for mercy
hereafter, I do not!"

"I knew it -- I could have sworn it!" returned the girl
warmly.  "And yet my father means well; -- but do not let
this matter disturb you, Jasper."

"There is so much more to apprehend from another
quarter just now, that I scarcely think of it."

"Jasper!"

"I do not wish to alarm you, Mabel; but if your uncle
could be persuaded to change his notions about handling
the _Scud_: and yet he is so much more experienced than
I am, that he ought, perhaps, to place more reliance on his
own judgment than on mine."

"Do you think the cutter in any danger?" demanded
Mabel, quick as thought.

"I fear so; at least she would have been thought in great
danger by us of the lake; perhaps an old seaman of the
ocean may have means of his own to take care of her."

"Jasper, all agree in giving you credit for skill in man-
aging the _Scud_.  You know the lake, you know the cut-
ter; you _must_ be the best judge of our real situation."

"My concern for you, Mabel, may make me more cow-
ardly than common; but, to be frank, I see but one method
of keeping the cutter from being wrecked in the course of
the next two or three hours, and that your uncle refuses to
take.  After all, this may be my ignorance; for, as he says,
Ontario is merely fresh water."

"You cannot believe this will make any difference.
Think of my dear father, Jasper!  Think of yourself; of
all the lives that depend on a timely word from you to save
them."

"I think of you, Mabel, and that is more, much more,
than all the rest put together!" returned the young man,
with a strength of expression and an earnestness of look
that uttered infinitely more than the words themselves.

Mabel's heart beat quickly, and a gleam of grateful sat-
isfaction shot across her blushing features; but the alarm
was too vivid and too serious to admit of much relief from
happier thoughts.  She did not attempt to repress a look
of gratitude, and then she returned to the feeling which
was naturally uppermost.

"My uncle's obstinacy must not be permitted to occa-
sion this disaster.  Go once more on deck, Jasper; and
ask my father to come into the cabin."

While the young man was complying with this request,
Mabel sat listening to the howling of the storm and the
dashing of the water against the cutter, in a dread to which
she had hitherto been a stranger.  Constitutionally an ex-
cellent sailor, as the term is used among passengers, she
had not hitherto bethought her of any danger, and had
passed her time since the commencemeut of the gale in
such womanly employments as her situation allowed; but
now that alarm was seriously awakened, she did not fail to
perceive that never before had she been on the water in
such a tempest.  The minute or two which elapsed before
the Sergeant came appeared an hour, and she scarcely
breathed when she saw him and Jasper descending the
ladder in company.  Quick as language could express her
meaning, she acquainted her father with Jasper's opinion
of their situation; and entreated him, if he loved her, or
had any regard for his own life, or for those of his men,
to interfere with her uncle, and to induce him to yield the
control of the cutter again to its proper commander.

"Jasper is true, father," added she earnestly; "and if
false, he could have no motive in wrecking us in this dis-
tant part of the lake at the risk of all our lives, his own
included.  I will pledge my own life for his truth."

"Ay, this is well enough for a young woman who is
frightened," answered the more phlegmatic parent; "but
it might not be so excusable in one in command of an ex-
pedition.  Jasper may think the chance of drowning in
getting ashore fully repaid by the chance of escaping as
soon as he reaches the land."

"Sergeant Dunham!"

"Father!"

These exclamations were made simultaneously, but they
were uttered in tones expressive of different feelings.  In
Jasper, surprise was the emotion uppermost; in Mabel
reproach.  The old soldier, however, was too much accus-
tomed to deal frankly with subordinates to heed either;
and after a moment's thought, he continued as if neither
had spoken.  "Nor is brother Cap a man likely to submit
to be taught his duty on board a vessel."

"But, father, when all our lives are in the utmost jeop-
ardy!"

"So much the worse.  The fair-weather commander is
no great matter; it is when things go wrong that the best
officer shows himself in his true colors.  Charles Cap will
not be likely to quit the helm because the ship is in dan-
ger.  Besides, Jasper Eau-douce, he says your proposal in
itself has a suspicious air about it, and sounds more like
treachery than reason."

"He may think so; but let him send for the pilot and
hear his opinion.  It is well known that I have not seen
the man since yesterday evening."

"This does sound reasonably, and the experiment shall
be tried.  Follow me on deck then, that all may be hon-
est and above-aboard."

Jasper obeyed, and so keen was the interest of Mabel,
that she too ventured as far as the companion-way, where
her garments were sufficiently protected against the vio-
lence of the wind and her person from the spray.  Here
maiden modesty induced her to remain, though an absorbed
witness of what was passing.

The pilot soon appeared, and there was no mistaking the
look of concern that he cast around at the scene as soon as
he was in the open air.  Some rumors of the situation of
the _Scud_ had found their way below, it is true; but in this
instance rumor had lessened instead of magnifying the
danger.  He was allowed a few minutes to look about him,
and then the question was put as to the course which he
thought it prudent to follow.

"I see no means of saving the cutter but to anchor," he
answered simply, and without hesitation.

"What! out here in the lake?" inquired Cap, as he had
previously done of Jasper.

"No: but closer in; just at the outer line of the
breakers."

The effect of this communication was to leave no doubt
in the mind of Cap that there was a secret arrangement
between her commander and the pilot to cast away the
_Scud_; most probably with the hope of effecting their es-
cape.  He consequently treated the opinion of the latter
with the indifference he had manifested towards that of
the former.

"I tell you, brother Dunham," said he, in answer to the
remonstrances of the Sergeant against his turning a deaf
ear to this double represeutation, "that no seaman would
give such an opinion honestly.  To anchor on a lee shore
in a gale of wind would be an act of madness that I could
never excuse to the underwriters, under any circumstances,
so long as a rag can be set; but to anchor close to breakers
would be insanity."

"His Majesty underwrites the _Scud_, brother, and I am
responsible for the lives of my command.  These men are
better acquainted with Lake Ontario than we can possibly
be, and I do think their telling the same tale entitles them
to some credit."

"Uncle!" said Mabel earnestly; but a gesture from Jas-
per induced the girl to restrain her feelings.

"We are drifting down upon the breakers so rapidly,"
said the young man, "that little need be said on the dub-
ject.  Half an hour must settle the matter, one way or the
other; but I warn Master Cap that the surest-footed man
among us will not be able to keep his feet an instant on
the deck of this low craft, should she fairly get within
them.  Indeed I make little doubt that we shall fill and
founder before the second line of rollers is passed."

"And how would anchoring help the matter?" de-
manded Cap furiously, as if he felt that Jasper was re-
sponsible for the effects of the gale, as well as for the
opinion he had just given.

"It would at least do no harm," Eau-douce mildly re-
plied.  "By bringing the cutter head to sea we should les-
sen her drift; and even if we dragged through the break-
ers, it would be with the least possible danger.  I hope,
Master Cap, you will allow the pilot and myself to _prepare_
for anchoring, since the precaution may do good, and can
do no harm."

"Overhaul your ranges, if you will, and get your anchors
clear, with all my heart.  We are now in a situation that
cannot be much affected by anything of that sort.  Ser-
geant, a word with you aft here, if you please."

Cap led his brother-in-law out of ear-shot; and then,
with more of human feeling in his voice and manner than
he was apt to exhibit, he opened his heart on the subject
of their real situation.

"This is a melancholy affair for poor Mabel," said he,
blowing his nose, and speaking with a slight tremor.
"You and I, Sergeant, are old fellows, and used to being
near death, if not to actually dying; our trades fit us for
such scenes; but poor Mabel! -- she is an affectionate and
kind-hearted girl, and I had hoped to see her comfortably
settled, and a mother, before my time came.  Well, well!
we must take the bad with the good in every v'y'ge; and
the only serious objection that an old seafaring man can
with propriety make to such an event is, that it should
happen on this bit of d----d fresh water."

Sergeant Dunham was a brave man, and had shown his
spirit in scenes that looked much more appalling than
this; but on all such occasions he had been able to act his
I part against his foes, while here he was pressed upon by
an enemy whom he had no means of resisting.  For him-
self he cared far less than for his daughter, feeling some of
that self-reliance which seldom deserts a man of firmness
who is in vigorous health, and who has been accustomed to
personal exertions in moments of jeopardy; but as respects
Mabel he saw no means of escape, and, with a father's
fondness, he at once determined that, if either was doomed
to perish, he and his daughter must perish together.

"Do you think this must come to pass?" he asked of
Cap firmly, but with strong feeling.

"Twenty minutes will carry us into the breakers; and
look for yourself, Sergeant: what chance will even the
stoutest man among us have in that caldron to leeward?"

The prospect was, indeed, little calculated to encourage
hope.  By this time the _Scud_ was within a mile of the
shore, on which the gale was blowing at right angles, with
a violence that forbade the idea of showing any additional
canvas with a view to claw off.  The small portion of the
mainsail actually set, and which merely served to keep the
head of the _Scud_ so near the wind as to prevent the waves
from breaking over her, quivered under the gusts, as if at
each moment the stout threads which held the complicated
fabric together were about to be torn asunder.  The driz-
zle had ceased; but the air, for a hundred, feet above the
surface of the lake, was filled with dazzling spray, which
had an appearance not unlike that of a brilliant mist,
while above all the sun was shining gloriously in a cloud-
less sky.  Jasper had noted the omen, and had foretold
that it announced a speedy termination to the gale, though
the next hour or two must decide their fate.  Between the
cutter and the shore the view was still more wild and ap-
palling.  The breakers extended nearly half a mile; while
the water within their line was white with foam, the air
above them was so far filled with vapor and spray as to
render the land beyond hazy and indistinct.  Still it could
be seen that the latter was high, -- not a usual thing for
the shores of Ontario, -- and that it was covered with the
verdant mantle of the interminable forest.

While the Sergeant and Cap were gazing at this scene
in silence, Jasper and his people were actively engaged on
the forecastle.  No sooner had the young man received
permission to resume his old employment, than, appealing
to some of the soldiers for aid, he mustered five or six as-
sistants, and set about in earnest the performance of a duty
which had been too long delayed.  On these narrow waters
anchors are never stowed in-board, or cables that are in-
tended for service unbent, and Jasper was saved much of
the labor that would have been necessary in a vessel at sea.
The two bowers were soon ready to be let go, ranges of the
cables were overhauled, and then the party paused to look
about them.  No changes for the better had occurred, but
the cutter was falling slowly in, and each instant rendered
it more certain that she could not gain an inch to wind-
ward.

One long, earnest survey of the lake ended, Jasper gave
new orders in a similar manner to prove how much he
thought that the time pressed.  Two kedges were got on
deck, and hawsers were bent to them; the inner ends of
the hawsers were bent, in their turns, to the crowns of the
anchors, and everything was got ready to throw them over-
board at the proper moment.  These preparations com-
pleted, Jasper's manner changed from the excitement of
exertion to a look of calm but settled concern.  He quitted
the forecastle, where the seas were dashing in-board at
every plunge of the vessel, the duty just mentioned having
been executed with the bodies of the crew frequently buried
in the water, and walked to a drier part of the deck, aft.
Here he was met by the Pathfinder, who was standing near
Mabel and the Quartermaster.  Most of those on board,
with the exception of the individuals who have already
been particularly mentioned, were below, some seeking re-
lief from physical suffering on their pallets, and others
tardily bethinking them of their sins.  For the first time,
most probably, since her keel had dipped into the limpid
waters of Ontario, the voice of prayer was, heard on board
the _Scud_.

"Jasper," commenced his friend, the guide, "I have been
of no use this morning, for my gifts are of little account,
as you know, in a vessel like this; but, should it please
God to let the Sergeant's daughter reach the shore alive,
my acquaintance with the forest may still carry her through
in safety to the garrison."

"'Tis a fearful distance thither, Pathfinder!" Mabel re-
joined, the party being so near together that all which was
said by one was overheard by the others.  "I am afraid
none of us could live to reach the fort."

"It would be a risky path, Mabel, and a crooked one;
though some of your sex have undergone even more than
that in this wilderness.  But, Jasper, either you or I, or
both of us, must man this bark canoe; Mabel's only ohance
will lie in getting through the breakers in that."

"I would willingly man anything to save Mabel," an-
swered Jasper, with a melancholy smile; "but no human
hand, Pathfinder, could carry that canoe through yonder
breakers in a gale like this.  I have hopes from anchoring,
after all; for once before have we saved the _Scud_ in an
extremity nearly as great as this."

"If we are to anchor, Jasper," the Sergeant inquired,
"why not do it at once?  Every foot we lose in drifting
now would come into the distance we shall probably drag
when the anchors are let go."

Jasper drew nearer to the Sergeant, and took his hand,
pressing it earnestly, and in a way to denote strong, almost
uncontrollable feelings.

"Sergeant Dunham," said he solemnly, "you are a good
man, though you have treated me harshly in this business.
You love your daughter?"

"That you canuot doubt, Eau-douce," returned the Ser-
geant huskily.

"Will you give her -- give us all -- the only chance for life
that is left?"

"What would you have me do, boy, what would you have
me do?  I have acted according to my judgment hitherto,
- what would you have me do?"

"Support me against Master Cap for five minutes, and
all that man can do towards saving the _Scud_ shall be done."

The Sergeant hesitated, for he was too much of a dis-
ciplinarian to fly in the face of regular orders.  He dis-
liked the appearance of vacillation, too; and then he had
a profound respect for his kinsman's seamanship.  While
he was deliberating, Cap came from the post he had some
time occupied, which was at the side of the man at the
helm, and drew nigh the group.

"Master Eau-douce," said he, as soon as near enough to
be heard, "I have come to inquire if you know any spot
near by where this cutter can be beached?  The moment
has arrived when we are driven to this hard alternative."

That instant of indecision on the part of Cap secured
the triumph of Jasper.  Looking at the Sergeant, the
young man received a nod that assured him of all he asked,
and he lost not one of those moments that were getting
to be so very precious.

"Shall I take the helm," he inquired of Cap, "and see
if we can reach a creek that lies to leeward?"

"Do so, do so," said the other, hemming to clear his
throat; for he felt oppressed by a responsibility that
weighed all the heavier on his shoulders on account of his
ignorance.  "Do so, Eau-douce, since, to be frank with
you, I can see nothing better to be done.  We must beach
or swamp."

Jasper required no more; springing aft, he soon had the
tiller in his own hands.  The pilot was prepared for what
was to follow; and, at a sign from his young commander,
the rag of sail that had so long been set was taken in.  At
that moment, Jasper, watching his time, put the helm up;
the head of a staysail was loosened forward, and the light
cutter, as if conscious she was now under the control of
familiar hands, fell off, and was soon in the trough of the
sea.  This perilous instant was passed in safety, and at the
next moment the little vessel appeared flying down toward
the breakers at a rate that threatened instant destruction.
The distances had become so short, that five or six minutes
sufficed for all that Jasper wished, and he put the helm
down again, when the bows of the _Scud_ came up to the
wind, notwithstanding the turbulence of the waters, as
gracefully as the duck varies its line of direction on the
glassy pond.  A sign from Jasper set all in motion on the
forecastle, and a kedge was thrown from each bow.  The
fearful nature of the drift was now apparent even to Mabel's
eyes, for the two hawsers ran out like tow-lines.  As soon
as they straightened to a slight strain, both anchors were
let go, and cable was given to each, nearly to the better-
ends.  It was not a difficult task to snub so light a craft
with ground-tackle of a quality better than common; and
in less than ten minutes from the moment when Jasper
went to the helm, the _Scud_ was riding, head to sea, with
the two cables stretched ahead in lines that resembled bars
of iron.

"This is not well done, Master Jasper!" angrily ex-
claimed Cap, as soon as he perceived the trick which had
been played him; "this is not well done, sir.  I order you
to cut, and to beach the cutter without a moment's delay."

No one, however, seemed disposed to comply with this
order; for so long as Eau-douce saw fit to command, his
own people were disposed to obey.  Finding that the men
remained passive, Cap, who believed they were in the ut-
most peril, turned fiercely to Jasper, and renewed his re-
monstrances.

"You did not head for your pretended creek," added
he, after dealing in some objurgatory remarks that we do
not deem it necessary to record, "but steered for that bluff,
where every soul on board would have been drowned, had
we gone ashore."

"And you wish to cut, and put every soul ashore at that
very spot!" Jasper retorted, a little drily.

"Throw a lead-line overboard, and ascertain the drift!"
Cap now roared to the people forward.  A sign from Jas-
per sustaining this order, it was instantly obeyed.  All on
deck watched, with nearly breathless interest, the result
of the experiment.  The lead was no sooner on the bottom,
than the line tended forward, and in about two minutes
it was seen that the cutter had drifted her length dead in
towards the bluff.  Jasper looked gravely, for he well knew
nothing would hold the vessel did she get within the vor-
tex of the breakers, the first line of which was appearing
and disappearing about a cable's length directly under their
stern.

"Traitor!" exclaimed Cap, shaking a finger at the young
commander, though passion choked the rest.  "You must
answer for this with your life!" he added after a short
pause.  "If I were at the head of this expedition, Sergeant,
I would hang him at the end of the main-boom, lest he
escape drowning."

"Moderate your feelings, brother; be more moderate, I
bcseech you; Jasper appears to have done all for the best,
and matters may not be so bad as you believe them."

"Why did he not run for the creek he mentioned? -- why
has he brought us here, dead to windward of that bluff,
and to a spot where even the breakers are only of half the
ordinary width, as if in a hurry to drown all on board?"

"I headed for the bluff, for the precise reason that the
breakers are so narrow at this spot," answered Jasper
mildly, though his gorge had risen at the language the
other held.

"Do you mean to tell an old seaman like me that this
cutter could live in those breakers?"

"I do not, sir.  I think she would fill and swamp if
driven into the first line of them; I am certain she would
never reach the shore on her bottom, if fairly entered.  I
hope to keep her clear of them altogether."

"With a drift of her length in a minute?"

"The backing of the anchors does not yet fairly tell, nor
do I even hope that _they_ will entirely bring her up."

"On what, then, do you rely?  To moor a craft, head and
stern, by faith, hope, and charity?"

"No, sir, I trust to the under-tow.  I headed for the
bluff because I knew that it was stronger at that point than
at any other, and because we could get nearer in with the
land without entering the breakers."

This was said with spirit, though without any particular
show of resentment.  Its effect on Cap was marked, the
feeling that was uppermost being evidently that of surprise.

"Under-tow!" he repeated; "who the devil ever heard
of saving a vessel from going ashore by the under-tow?"

"This may never happen on the ocean, sir," Jasper an-
swered modestly; "but we have known it to happen here."

"The lad is right, brother," put in the Sergeant; "for,
though I do not well understand it, I have often heard the
sailors of the lake speak of such a thing.  We shall do
well to trust to Jasper in this strait."

Cap grumbled and swore; but, as there was no remedy,
he was compelled to acquiesce.  Jasper, being now called
on to explain what he meant by the under-tow, gave this
account of the matter.  The water that was driven up on
the shore by the gale was necessarily compelled to find its
level by returning to the lake by some secret channels.
This could not be done on the surface, where both wind
and waves were constantly urging it towards the land, and
it necessarily formed a sort of lower eddy, by means of
which it flowed back again to its ancient and proper bed.
This inferior current had received the name of the under-
tow, and, as it would necessarily act on the bottom of a
vessel which drew as much water as the _Scud_, Jasper
trusted to the aid of this reaction to keep his cables from
parting.  In short, the upper and lower currents would,
in a manner, counteract each other.

Simple and ingenious as was this theory, however, as yet
there was little evidence of its being reduced to practice.
The drift continued; though, as the kedges and hawsers
with which the anchors were backed took the strains, it
became sensibly less.  At length the man at the lead an-
nounced the joyful intelligence that the anchors had ceased
to drag, and that the vessel had brought up!  At this pre-
cise moment the first line of breakers was about a hundred
feet astern of the _Scud_, even appearing to approach much
nearer as the foam vanished and returned on the raging
surges.  Jasper sprang forward, and, casting a glance over
the bows, he smiled in triumph, as he pointed exultingly
to the cables.  Instead of resembling bars of iron in rigid-
ity, as before, they were curving downwards, and to a sea-
man's senses it was evident that the cutter rose and fell
on the seas as they came in with the ease of a ship in a
tides-way, when the power of the wind is relieved by the
counteracting pressure of the water.

"'Tis the undertow!" he exclaimed with delight, fairly
bounding along the deck to steady the helm, in order that
the cutter might ride still easier.  "Providence has placed
us directly in its current, and there is no longer any dan-
ger."

"Ay, ay, Providence is a good seaman," growled Cap,
"and often helps lubbers out of difficulty.  Under-tow or
upper-tow, the gale has abated; and, fortunately for us all,
the anchors have met with good holding-ground.  Then
this d----d fresh water has an unnatural way with it."

Men are seldom inclined to quarrel with good fortune,
but it is in distress that they grow clamorous and critical.
Most on board were disposed to believe that they had been
saved from shipwreck by the skill and knowledge of Jas-
per, without regarding the opinions of Cap, whose remarks
were now little heeded.

There was half an hour of uncertainty and doubt, it is
true, during which period the lead was anxiously watched;
and then a feeling of security came over all, and the weary
slept without dreaming of instant death.



CHAPTER XVIII.

It is to be all made of sighs and tears;
It is to be all made of faith and service;
It is to be all made of phantasy;
All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
All adoration, duty, and observance;
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience;
All purity, all trial, all observance.
SHAKESPEARE.


It was near noon when the gale broke; and then its force
abated as suddenly as its violence had arisen.  In less than
two hours after the wind fell, the surface of the lake,
though still agitated, was no longer glittering with foam;
and in double that time, the entire sheet presented the or-
dinary scene of disturbed water, that was unbroken by the
violence of a tempest.  Still the waves came rolling inces-
santly towards the shore, and the lines of breakers re-
mained, though the spray had ceased to fly; the combing
of the swells was more moderate, and all that there was of
violence proceeded from the impulsion of wind which had
abated.

As it was impossible to make head against the sea that
was still up, with the light opposing air that blew from
the eastward, all thoughts of getting under way that after
noon were abandoned.  Jasper, who had now quietly re-
sumed the command of the _Scud_, busied himself, however,
in heaving-up the anchors, which were lifted in succession;
the kedges that backed them were weighed, and everything
was got in readiness for a prompt departure, as soon as the
state of the weather would allow.  In the meantime, they
who had no concern with these duties sought such means
of amusement as their peculiar circumstances allowed.

As is common with those who are unused to the confine-
ment of a vessel, Mabel cast wistful eyes towards the shore;
nor was it long before she expressed a wish that it were
possible to land.  The Pathfinder was near her at the time,
and he assured her that nothing would be easier, as they
had a bark canoe on deck, which was the best possible mode
of conveyance to go through a surf.  After the usual
doubts and misgivings, the Sergeant was appealed to; his
opinion proved to be favorable, and preparations to carry
the whim into effect were immediately made.

The party which was to land consisted of Sergeant
Dunham, his daughter, and the Pathfinder.  Accustomed
to the canoe, Mabel took her seat in the centre with great
steadiness, her father was placed in the bows, while the
guide assumed the office of conductor, by steering in the
stern.  There was little need of impelling the canoe by
means of the paddle, for the rollers sent it forward at mo-
ments with a violence that set every effort to govern its
movements at defiance.  More than once, before the shore
was reached, Mabel repented of her temerity, but Path-
finder encouraged her, and really manifested so much self-
possession, coolness, and strength of arm himself, that even
a female might have hesitated about owning all her ap-
prehensions.  Our heroine was no coward; and while she
felt the novelty of her situation, in landing through a surf,
she also experienced a fair proportion of its wild delight.
At moments, indeed, her heart was in her mouth, as the
bubble of a boat floated on the very crest of a foaming
breaker, appearing to skim the water like a swallow, and
then she flushed and laughed, as, left by the glancing ele-
ment, they appeared to linger behind as if ashamed of hav-
ing been outdone in the headlong race.  A few minutes
sufficed for this excitement; for though the distance be-
tween the cutter and the land considerably exceeded a
quarter of a mile, the intermediate space was passed in a
very few minutes.

On landing, the Sergeant kissed his daughter kindly, for
he was so much of a soldier as always to feel more at home
on _terra firma_ than when afloat; and, taking his gun, he
announced his intention to pass an hour in quest of game.

"Pathfinder will remain near you, girl, and no doubt he
will tell you some of the traditions of this part of the world,
or some of his own experiences with the Mingos."

The guide laughed, promised to have a care of Mabel,
and in a few minutes the father had ascended a steep ac-
clivity and disappeared in the forest.  The others took an-
other direction, which, after a few minutes of a sharp as-
cent also, brought them to a small naked point on the
promontory, where the eye overlooked an extensive and
very peculiar panorama.  Here Mabel seated herself on a
fragment of fallen rock to recover her breath and strength,
while her companion, on whose sinews no personal exertion
seemed to make any impression, stood at her side, leaning
in his own and not ungraceful manner on his long rifle.
Several minutes passed, and neither spoke; Mabel, in par-
ticular, being lost in admiration of the view.

The position the two had obtained was sufficiently ele-
vated to command a wide reach of the lake, which stretched
away towards the north-east in a boundless sheet, glitter-
ing beneath the rays of an afternoon's sun, and yet betray-
ing the remains of that agitation which it had endured
while tossed by the late tempest.  The land set bounds to
its limits in a huge crescent, disappearing in distance to-
wards the south-east and the north.  Far as the eye could
reach, nothing but forest was visible, not even a solitary
sign of civilization breaking in upon the uniform and
grand magnificence of nature.  The gale had driven the
_Scud_ beyond the line of those forts with which the French
were then endeavoring to gird the English North Ameri-
can possessions; for, following the channels of communi-
cation between the great lakes, their posts were on the
banks of the Niagara, while our adventurers had reached
a point many leagues westward of that celebrated strait.
The cutter rode at single anchor, without the breakers, re-
sembling some well-imagined and accurately-executed toy,
intended rather for a glass case than for struggles with
the elements which she had so lately gone through, while
the canoe lay on the narrow beach, just out of reach of
the waves that came booming upon the land, a speck upon
the shingles.

"We are very far here from human habitations!" ex-
claimed Mabel, when, after a long survey of the scene, its
principal peculiarities forced themselves on her active and
ever brilliant imagination; "this is indeed being on a
frontier."

"Have they more sightly scenes than this nearer the sea
and around their large towns?" demanded Pathfinder, with
an interest he was apt to discover in such a subject.

"I will not say that: there is more to remind one of his
fellow-beings there than here; less, perhaps, to remind one
of God."

"Ay, Mabel, that is what my own feelings say.  I am but
a poor hunter, I know, untaught and unlarned; but God
is as near me, in this my home, as he is near the king in
his royal palace."

"Who can doubt it?" returned Mabel, looking from the
view up into the hard-featured but honest face of her com-
panion, though not without surprise at the energy of his
manner.  "One feels nearer to God in such a spot, I think,
than when the mind is distracted by the objects of the
towns."

"You say all I wish to say myself, Mabel, but in so much
plainer speech, that you make me ashamed of wishing to
let others know what I feel on such matters.  I have coasted
this lake in search of skins afore the war, and have been
here already; not at this very spot, for we landed yonder,
where you may see the blasted oak that stands above the
cluster of hemlocks -- "

"How, Pathfinder, can you remember all these trifles so
accurately?"

"These are our streets and houses, our churches and
palaces.  Remember them, indeed!  I once made an ap-
pointment with the Big Sarpent, to meet at twelve o'clock
at noon, near the foot of a certain pine, at the end of six
months, when neither of us was within three hundred miles
of the spot.  The tree stood, and stands still, unless the
judgment of Providence has lighted on that too, in the
midst of the forest, fifty miles from any settlement, but in
a most extraordinary neighborhood for beaver."

"And did you meet at that very spot and hour?"

"Does the sun rise and set?  When I reached the tree,
I found the Sarpent leaning against its trunk with torn
leggings and muddied moecassins.  The Delaware had got
into a swamp, and it worried him not a little to find his
way out of it; but as the sun which comes over the eastern
hills in the morning goes down behind the western at
night, so was he true to time and place.  No fear of Chin-
gachgook when there is either a friend or an enemy in the
case.  He is equally sartain with each."

"And where is the Delaware now? why is he not with
us to-day?"

"He is scouting on the Mingo trail, where I ought to
have been too, but for a great human infirmity."

"You seem above, beyond, superior to all infirmity, Path-
finder; I never yet met with a man who appeared to be so
little liable to the weaknesses of nature."

"If you mean in the way of health and strength, Mabel,
Providence has been kind to me; though I fancy the open
air, long hunts, active scoutings, forest fare, and the sleep
of a good conscience, may always keep the doctors at a dis-
tance.  But I am human after all; yes, I find I'm very
human in some of my feelings."

Mabel looked surprised, and it would be no more than
delineating the character of her sex, if we added that her
sweet countenance expressed a good deal of curiosity, too,
though her tongue was more discreet.

"There is something bewitching in this wild life of
yours, Pathfinder," she exclaimed, a tinge of enthusiasm
mantling her cheeks.  "I find I'm fast getting to be a
frontier girl, and am coming to love all this grand silence
of the woods.  The towns seem tame to me; and, as my
father will probably pass the remainder of his days here,
where he has already lived so long, I begin to feel that I
should be happy to continue with him, and not to return
to the sea-shore."

"The woods are never silent, Mabel, to such as under-
stand their meaning.  Days at a time have I travelled
them alone, without feeling the want of company; and,
as for conversation, for such as can comprehend their lan-
guage, there is no want of rational and instructive dis-
course."

"I believe you are happier when alone, Pathfinder, than
when mingling with your fellow-creatures."

"I will not say that, I will not say exactly that.  I have
seen the time when I have thought that God was sufficient
for me in the forest, and that I have craved no more than
His bounty and His care.  But other feelings have got
uppermost, and I suppose natur' will have its way.  All
other creaturs mate, Mabel, and it was intended man should
do so too."

"And have you never bethought you of seeking a wife,
Pathfinder, to share your fortunes?" inquired the girl,
with the directness and simplicity that the pure of heart
and the undesigning are the most apt to manifest, and with
that feeling of affection which is inbred in her sex.  "To
me it seems you only want a home to return to from your
wanderings to render your life completely happy.  Were
I a man, it would be my delight to roam through these
forests at will, or to sail over this beautiful lake."

"I understand you, Mabel; and God bless you for think-
ing of the welfare of men as humble as we are.  We have
our pleasures, it is true, as well as our gifts, but we might
be happier; yes, I do think we might be happier."

"Happier! in what way, Pathfinder?  In this pure air,
with these cool and shaded forests to wander through, this
lovely lake to gaze at and sail upon, with clear consciences,
and abundance for all their real wants, men ought to be
nothing less than as perfectly happy as their infirmities
will allow."

"Every creatur' has its gifts, Mabel, and men have
theirs," answered the guide, looking stealthily at his beau-
tiful companion, whose cheeks had flushed and eyes bright-
ened under the ardor of feelings excited by the novelty of
her striking situation; "and all must obey them.  Do you
see yonder pigeon that is just alightin' on the beach --
here in a line with the fallen chestnut?"

"Certainly; it is the only thing stirring with life in it,
besides ourselves, that is to be seen in this vast solitude."

"Not so, Mabel, not so; Providence makes nothing that
lives to live quite alone.  Here is its mate, just rising on
the wing; it has been feeding near the other beach, but it
will not long be separated from its companion."

"I understand you, Pathfinder," returned Mabel, smiling
sweetly, though as calmly as if the discourse was with her
father.  "But a hunter may find a mate, even in this wild
region.  The Indian girls are affectionate and true, I know;
for such was the wife of Arrowhead, to a husband who
oftener frowned than smiled."

"That would never do, Mabel, and good would never
come of it.  Kind must cling to kind, and country to coun-
try, if one would find happiness.  If, indeed, I could meet
with one like you, who would consent to be a hunter's wife,
and who would not scorn my ignorance and rudeness, then,
indeed, would all the toil of the past appear like the sport-
ing of the young deer, and all the future like sunshine."

"One like me!  A girl of my years and indiscretion
would hardly make a fit companion for the boldest scout
and surest hunter on the lines."

"Ah, Mabel!  I fear me that I have been improving a red-
skin's gifts with a pale-face's natur'?  Such a character
would insure a wife in an Indian village."

"Surely, surely, Pathfinder, you would not think of
choosing one so ignorant, so frivolous, so vain, and so in-
experienced as I for your wife?" Mabel would have added,
"and as young;" but an instinctive feeling of delicacy re-
pressed the words.

"And why not, Mabel?  If you are ignorant of frontier
usages, you know more than all of us of pleasant anecdotes
and town customs: as for frivolous, I know not what it
means; but if it signifies beauty, ah's me!  I fear it is no
fault in my eyes.  Vain you are not, as is seen by the kind
manner in which you listen to all my idle tales about
scoutings and trails; and as for experielice, that will come
with years.  Besides, Mabel, I fear men think little of these
matters when they are about to take wives: I do."

"Pathfinder, your words, -- your looks: -- surely all this
is meant in trifling; you speak in pleasantry?"

"To me it is always agreeable to be near you, Mabel; and
I should sleep sounder this blessed night than I have done
for a week past, could I think that you find such discourse
as pleasant as I do."

We shall not say that Mabel Dunham had not believed
herself a favorite with the guide.  This her quick femi-
nine sagacity had early discovered; and perhaps she had
occasionally thought there had mingled with his regard
and friendship some of that manly tenderness which the
ruder sex must be coarse, indeed, not to show on occasions
to the gentler; but the idea that he seriously sought her
for his wife had never before crossed the mind of the spir-
ited and ingenuous girl.  Now, however, a gleam of some-
thing like the truth broke in upon her imagination, less
induced by the words of her companion, perhaps, than by
his manner.  Looking earnestly into the rugged, honest
countenance of the scout, Mabel's own features became
concerned and grave; and when she spoke again, it was
with a gentleness of manner that attracted him to her even
more powerfully than the words themselves were calculated
to repel.

"You and I should understand each other, Pathfinder,"
said she with an earnest sincerity; "nor should there be
any cloud between us.  You are too upright and frank to
meet with anything but sincerity and frankness in return.
Surely, surely, all this means nothing, -- has no other con-
nection with your feelings than such a friendship as one
of your wisdom and character would naturally feel for a
girl like me?"

"I believe it's all nat'ral, Mabel yes; I do: the Sergeant
tells me he had such feelings towards your own mother,
and I think I've seen something like it in the young people
I have from time to time guided through the wilderness.
Yes, yes, I daresay it's all nat'ral enough, and that makes
it come so easy, and is a great comfort to me."

"Pathfinder, your words make me uneasy.  Speak plainer,
or change the subject for ever.  You do not, cannot mean
that -- you cannot wish me to understand" -- even the
tongue of the spirited Mabel faltered, and she shrank, with
maiden shame, from adding what she wished so earnestly
to say.  Rallying her courage, however, and determined to
know all as soon and as plainly as possible, after a mo-
ment's hesitation, she continued, -- "I mean, Pathfinder,
that you do not wish me to understand that you seriously
think of me as a wife?"

"I do, Mabel; that's it, that's just it; and you have put the
matter in a much better point of view than I with my for-
est gifts and frontier ways would ever be able to do.  The
Sergeant and I have concluded on the matter, if it is agree-
able to you, as he thinks is likely to be the case; though I
doubt my own power to please one who deserves the best
husband America can produce."

Mabel's countenance changed from uneasiness to sur-
prise; and then, by a transition still quicker, from surprise
to pain.

"My father!" she exclaimed, -- "my dear father has
thought of my becoming your wife, Pathfinder?"

"Yes, he has, Mabel, he has, indeed.  He has even
thought such a thing might be agreeable to you, and has
almost encouraged me to fancy it might be true."

"But you yourself, -- you certainly can care nothing
whether this singular expectation shall ever be realized or
not?"

"Anan?"

"I mean, Pathfinder, that you have talked of this match
more to oblige my father than anything else; that your feel-
ings are no way concerned, let my answer be what it may?"

The scout looked earnestly into the beautiful face of
Mabel, which had flushed with the ardor and novelty of
her sensations, and it was not possible to mistake the in-
tense admiration that betrayed itself in every lineament of
his ingenuous countenance.

"I have often thought myself happy, Mabel, when rang-
ing the woods on a successful hunt, breathing the pure air
of the hills, and filled with vigor and health; but I now
know that it has all been idleness and vanity compared
with the delight it would give me to know that you thought
better of me than you think of most others."

"Better of you! -- I do, indeed, think better of you, Path-
finder, than of most others: I am not certain that I do not
think better of you than of any other; for your truth, hon-
esty, simplicity, justice, and courage are scarcely equalled
by any of earth."

"Ah, Mabel, these are sweet and encouraging words from
you! and the Sergeant, after all, was not so near wrong as
I feared."

"Nay, Pathfinder, in the name of all that is sacred and
jsut, do not let us misunderstand each other in a matter
of so much importance.  While I esteem, respect, nay,
reverence you, almost as much as I reverence my own dear
father, it is impossible that I should ever become your
wife -- that I -- "

The change in her companion's countenance was so sud-
den and so great, that the moment the effect of what she
had uttered became visible in the face of the Pathfinder,
Mabel arrested her own words, notwithstanding her strong
desire to be explicit, the reluctance with which she could
at any time cause painn being sufficient of itself to induce
the pause.  Neither spoke for some time, the shade of dis-
appointment that crossed the rugged lineaments of the
hunter amounting so nearly to anguish as to frighten his
companion, while the sensation of choking became so strong
in the Pathfinder that he fairly griped his throat, like one
who sought physical relief for physical suffering.  The
convulsive manner in which his fingers worked actually
struck the alarmed girl with a feeling of awe.

"Nay, Pathfinder," Mabel eagerly added, the instant she
could command her voice, -- "I may have said more than I
mean; for all things of this nature are possible, and
women, they say, are never sure of their own minds.  What
I wish you to understand is, that it is not likely that you
and I should ever think of each other as man and wife
ought to think of each other."

"I do not -- I shall never think in that way again, Mabel,"
gasped forth the Pathfinder, who appeared to utter his
words like one just raised above the pressure of some suffo-
cating substance.  "No, no, I shall never think of you, or
any one else, again in that way."

"Pathfinder, dear Pathfinder, understand me; do not
attach more meaning to my words than I do myself: a
match like that would be unwise, unnatural, perhaps."

"Yes, unnat'ral -- ag'in natur'; and so I told the Ser-
geant, but he _would_ have it otherwise."

"Pathfinder! oh, this is worse than I could have im-
agined!  Take my hand, excellent Pathfinder, and let me
see that you do not hate me.  For God's sake, smile upon
me again."

"Hate you, Mabel!  Smile upon you!  Ah's me!"

"Nay, give me your hand; your hardy, true, and manly
hand -- both, both, Pathfinder! for I shall not be easy until
I feel certain that we are friends again, and that all this
has been a mistake."

"Mabel!" said the guide, looking wistfully into the face
of the generous and impetuous girl, as she held his two
hard and sunburnt hands in her own pretty and delicate
fingers, and laughing in his own silent and peculiar man-
ner, while anguish gleamed over lineaments which seemed
incapable of deception, even while agitated with emotions
so conflicting, -- "Mabel! the Sergeant was wrong."

The pent-up feeliugs could endure no more, and the
tears rolled down the cheeks of the scout like rain.  His
fingers again worked convulsively at his throat; and his
breast heaved, as if it possessed a tenant of which it would
be rid, by any effort, however desperate.

"Pathfinder!  Pathfinder!" Mabel almost shrieked;
"anything but this, anything but this!  Speak to me,
Pathfinder!  Smile again, say one kind word, anything to
prove you can forgive me."

"The Sergeant was wrong!" exclaimed the guide, laugh-
ing amid his agony, in a way to terrify his companion by
the unnatural mixture of anguish and light-heartedness.
"I knew it, I knew it, and said it; yes, the Sergeant was
wrong after all."

"We can be friends, though we cannot be man and wife,"
continued Mabel, almost as much disturbed as her compan-
ion, scarcely knowing what she said; "we can always be
friends, and always will."

"I thought the Sergeant was mistaken," resumed the
Pathfinder, when a great effort had enabled him to com-
mand himself, "for I did not think my gifts were such as
would please the fancy of a town-bred girl.  It would have
been better, Mabel, had he not over-presuaded me into a
different notion; and it might have been better, too, had
you not been so pleasant and confiding like; yes, it would."

"If I thought any error of mine had raised false expec-
tations in you, Pathfinder, however unintentionally on my
part, I should never forgive myself; for, believe me, I
would rather endure pain in my own feelings than you
should suffer."

"That's just it, Mabel, that's just it.  These speeches
aud opinions, spoken in so soft a voice, and in a way I'm so
unused to in the woods, have done the mischief.  But I
now see plainly, and begin to understand the difference
between us better, and will strive to keep down thought,
and to go abroad again as I used to do, looking for the
game and the inimy.  Ah's me, Mabel!  I have indeed
been on a false trail since we met."

"In a little while you will forget all this, and think of
me as a friend, who owes you her life."

"This may be the way in the towns, but I doubt if it's
nat'ral to the woods.  With us, when the eye sees a lovely
sight, it is apt to keep it long in view, or when the mind
takes in an upright and proper feeling, it is loath to part
with it."

"You will forget it all, when you come seriously to recol-
lect that I am altogether unsuited to be your wife."

"So I told the Sergeant; but he would have it otherwise.
I knew you was too young and beautiful for one of middle
age, like myself, and who never was comely to look at even
in youth; and then your ways have not been my ways; nor
would a hunter's cabin be a fitting place for one who was
edicated among chiefs, as it were.  If I were younger and
comelier though, like Jasper Eau-douce -- "

"Never mind Jasper Eau-douce," interrupted Mabel im-
patiently; "we can talk of something else."

"Jasper is a worthy lad, Mabel; ay, and a comely," re-
turned the guileless guide, looking earnestly at the girl, as
if he distrusted her judgment in speaking slightingly of
his friend.  "Were I only half as comely as Jasper Wes-
tern, my misgivings in this affair would not have been so
great, and they might not have been so true."

"We will not talk of Jasper Western," repeated Mabel,
the color mounting to her temples; "he may be good
enough in a gale, or on the lake, but he is not good enough
to talk of here."

"I fear me, Mabel, he is better than the man who is
likely to be your husband, though the Sergeant says that
never can take place.  But the Sergeant was wrong once,
and he may be wrong twice."

"And who is likely to be my husband, Pathfinder!  This is
scarcely less strange than what has just passed between us."

"I know it is nat'ral for like to seek like, and for them
that have consorted much with officers' ladies to wish to
be officers' ladies themselves.  But, Mabel; I may speak
plainly to you, I know; and I hope my words will not give
you pain; for, now I understand what it is to be disap-
pointed in such feelings, I wouldn't wish to cause even a
Mingo sorrow on this head.  But happiness is not always
to be found in a marquee, any more than in a tent; and
though the officers' quarters may look more tempting than
the rest of the barracks, there is often great misery between
husband and wife inside of their doors."

"I do not doubt it in the least, Pathfinder; and, did it
rest with me to decide, I would sooner follow you to some
cabin in the woods, and share your fortune, whether it
might be better or worse, than go inside the door of any
officer I know, with an intention of remaining there as its
master's wife."

"Mabel, this is not what Lundie hopes, or Lundie
thinks."

"And what,care I for Lundie?  He is major of the 55th,
and may command his men to wheel and march about as
he pleases; but he cannot compel me to wed the greatest
or the meanest of his mess.  Besides, what can you know
of Lundie's wishes on such a subject?"

"From Lundie's own mouth.  The Sergeant had told
him that he wished me for a son-in-law; and the Major,
being an old and a true friend, conversed with me on the
subject.  He put it to me plainly, whether it would not
be more ginerous in me to let an officer succeed, than to
strive to make you share a hunter's fortune.  I owned the
truth, I did; and that was, that I thought it might; but
when he told me that the Quartermaster would be his
choice, I would not abide by the conditions.  No, no,
Mabel; I know Davy Muir well, and though he may make
you a lady, be can never make you a happy woman, or
himself a gentleman."

"My father has been very wrong if he has said or done
aught to cause you sorrow, Pathfinder; and so great is my
respect for you, so sincere my friendship, that were it not
for one -- I mean that no person need fear Lieutenant
Muir's influence with me -- I would rather remain as I am
to my dying day than become a lady at the cost of being
his wife."

"I do not think you would say that which you do not
feel, Mabel," returned Pathfinder earnestly.

"Not at such a moment, on such a subject, and least of
all to you.  No; Lieutenant Muir may find wives where
he can -- my name shall never be on his catalogue."

"Thank you, thank you for that, Mabel, for, though
there is no longer any hope for me, I could never be happy
were you to take to the Quartermaster.  I feared the com-
mission might count for something, I did; and I know
the man.  It is not jealousy that makes me speak in this
manner, but truth, for I know the man.  Now, were you
to fancy a desarving youth, one like Jasper Western, for
instance -- "

"Why always mention Jasper Eau-douce, Pathfinder?
he can have no concern with our friendship; let us talk of
yourself, and of the manner in which you intend to pass
the winter."

"Ah's me! -- I'm little worth at the best, Mabel, unless
it may be on a trail or with the rifle; and less worth now
that I have discovered the Sergeant's mistake.  There is
no need, therefore, of talking of me.  It has been very
pleasant to me to be near you so long, and even to fancy that
the Sergeant was right; but that is all over now.  I shall
go down the lake with Jasper, and then there will be
business to occupy us, and that will keep useless thoughts
out of the mind."

"And you will forget this -- forget me -- no, not forget
me, either, Pathfinder; but you will resume your old pur-
suits, and cease to think a girl of sufficient importance to
disturb your peace?"

"I never knowed it afore, Mabel; but girls are of more
account in this life than I could have believed.  Now,
afore I knowed you, the new-born babe did not sleep more
sweetly than I used; my head was no sooner on the root,
or the stone, or mayhap on the skin, than all was lost to
the senses, unless it might be to go over in the night the
business of the day in a dream like; and there I lay till
the moment came to be stirring, and the swallows were
not more certain to be on the wing with the light, than I
to be afoot at the moment I wished to be.  All this seemed
a gift, and might be calculated on even in the midst of a
Mingo camp; for I've been outlying in my time, in the
very villages of the vagabonds."

"And all this will return to you, Pathfinder, for one
so upright and sincere will never waste his happiness
on a mere fancy.  You will dream again of your hunts,
of the deer you have slain, and of the beaver you have
taken."

"Ah's me, Mabel, I wish never to dream again!  Before
we met, I had a sort of pleasure in following up the hounds,
in fancy, as it might be; and even in striking a trail of the
Iroquois -- nay, I've been in skrimmages aud ambushments,
in thought like, and found satisfaction in it, according to
my gifts; but all those things have lost their charms since
I've made acquaintance with you.  Now, I think no longer
of anything rude in my dreams; but the very last night
we stayed in the garrison I imagined I had a cabin in a
grove of sugar maples, and at the root of every tree was a
Mabel Dunham, while the birds among the branches sang
ballads instead of the notes that natur' gave, and even the
deer stopped to listen.  I tried to shoot a fa'n, but Kill-
deer missed fire, and the creatur' laughed in my face, as
pleasantly as a young girl laughs in her merriment, and
then it bounded away, looking back as if expecting me
follow."

"No more of this, Pathfinder; we'll talk no more of
these things," said Mabel, dashing the tears from her eyes:
for the simple, earnest manner in which this hardy woods-
man betrayed the deep hold she had taken of his feelings
nearly proved too much for her own generous heart.
"Now, let us look for my father; he cannot be distant, as
I heard his gun quite near."

"The Sergeant was wrong -- yes, he was wrong, and it's
of no avail to attempt to make the dove consort with the
wolf."

"Here comes my dear father," interrupted Mabel.  "Let
us look cheerful and happy, Pathfinder, as such good
friends ought to look, and keep each other's secrets."

A pause succeeded; the Sergeant's foot was heard crush-
ing the dried twigs hard by, and then his form appeared
shoving aside the bushes of a copse just near.  As he issued
into the open ground, the old soldier scrutinized his
daughter and her companion, and speaking good-naturedly,
he said, "Mabel, child, you are young aud light of foot --
look for a bird that I've shot that fell just beyond the
thicket of young hemlocks on the shore; and, as Jasper is
showing signs of an intention of getting under way, you
need not take the trouble to clamber up this hill again,
but we will meet you on the beach in a few minutes."

Mabel obeyed, bounding down the hill with the elastic
step of youth and health.  But, notwithstanding the light-
ness of her steps, the heart of the girl was heavy, and no
sooner was she hid from observation by the thicket, than
she threw herself on the root of a tree and wept as if her
heart would break.  The Sergeant watched her until she
disappeared, with a father's pride, and then turned to his
companion with a smile as kind and as familiar as his
habits would allow him to use towards any.

"She has her mother's lightness and activity, my friend,
with somewhat of her father's force," said he.  "Her
mother was not quite so handsome, I think myself; but
the Dunhams were always thought comely, whether men
or women.  Well, Pathfinder, I take it for granted you've
not overlooked the opportunity, but have spoken plainly
to the girl? women like frankness in matters of this sort."

"I believe Mabel and I understand each other at last,
Sergeant," returned the other, looking another way to
avoid the soldier's face.

"So much the better.  Some people fancy that a little
doubt and uncertainty makes love all the livelier; but I
am one of those who think the plainer the tongue speaks
the easier the mind will comprehend.  Was Mabel sur-
prised?"

"I fear she was, Sergeant; I fear she was taken quite by
surprise -- yes, I do."

"Well, well, surprises in love are like an ambush in war,
and quite as lawful; though it is not so easy to tell when
a woman is surprised, as to tell when it happens to an en-
emy.  Mabel did not run away, my worthy friend, did she?"

"No, Sergeant, Mabel did not try to escape; _that_ I can
say with a clear conscience."

"I hope the girl was too willing, neither!  Her
mother was shy and coy for a month, at least; but frank-
ness, after all, is a recommendation in a man or woman."

"That it is, that it is; and judgment, too."

"You are not to look for too much judgment in a young
creature of twenty, Pathfinder, but it will come with ex-
perience.  A mistake in you or me, for instance, might not
be so easily overlooked; but in a girl of Mabel's years, one
is not to strain at a gnat lest they swallow a camel."

The reader will remember that Sergeant Dunham was
not a Hebrew scholar.

The muscles of the listener's face twitched as the Ser-
geant was thus delivering his sentiments, though the for-
mer had now recovered a portion of that stoicism which
formed so large a part of his character, and which he had
probably imbibed from long association with the Indians.
His eyes rose and fell, and once a gleam shot athwart his
hard features as if he were about to indulge in his peculiar
laugh; but the joyous feeling, if it really existed, was as
quickly lost in a look allied to anguish.  It was this un-
usual mixture of wild and keen mental agony with native,
simple joyousness, which had most struck Mabel, who, in
the interview just related, had a dozen times been on the
point of believing that her suitor's heart was only lightly
touched, as images of happiness and humor gleamed over
a mind that was almost infantine in its simplicity and
nature; an impression, however, which was soon driven
away by the discovery of emotions so painful and so deep,
that they seemed to harrow the very soul.

"You say true, Sergeant," Pathfinder answered; "a mis-
take in one like you is a more serious matter."

"You will find Mabel sincere and honest in the end;
give her but a little time."

"Ah's me, Sergeant!"

"A man of your merits would make an impression on a
rock, give him time, Pathfinder."

"Sergeant Dunham, we are old fellow-campaigners --
that is, as campaigns are carried on here in the wilderness;
and we have done so many kind acts to each other that
we can afford to be candid -- what has caused you to believe
that a girl like Mabel could ever fancy one so rude as I
am?"

"What? -- why, a variety of reasons, and good reasons
too, my friend.  Those same acts of kindness, perhaps, and
the campaigns you mention; moreover, you are my sworn
and tried comrade."

"All this sounds well, so far as you and I are consarned;
but they do not touch the case of your pretty daughter.
She may think these very campaigns have destroyed the
little comeliness I may once have had; and I am not quite
sartain that being an old friend of her father would lead
any young maiden's mind into a particular affection for a
suitor.  Like loves like, I tell you, Sergeant; and my gifts
are not altogether the gifts of Mabel Dunham."

"These are some of your old modest qualms, Pathfinder,
and will do you no credit with the girl.  Women distrust
men who distrust themselves, and take to men who dis-
trust nothing. Modesty is a capital thing in a recruit, I
grant you; or in a young subaltern who has just joined,
for it prevents his railing at the non-commissioned officers
before he knows what to rail at; I'm not sure it is out of
place in a commissary or a parson, but it's the devil and
all when it gets possession of a real soldier or a lover.
Have as little to do with it as possible, if you would win a
woman's heart.  As for your doctrine that like loves like,
it is as wrong as possible in matters of this sort.  If like
loved like, women would love one another, and men also.
No, no, like loves dislike," -- the Sergeant was merely a
scholar of the camp, -- "and you have nothing to fear from
Mabel on that score.  Look at Lieutenant Muir; the man
has had five wives already, they tell me, and there is no
more modesty in him than there is in a cat-o'-nine-tails."

"Lieutenant Muir will never be the husband of Mabel
Dunham, let him ruffle his feathers as much as he may."

"That is a sensible remark of yours, Pathfinder; for my
mind is made up that you shall be my son-in-law.  If I
were an officer myself, Mr. Muir might have some chance;
but time has placed one door between my child and myself,
and I don't intend there shall be that of a marquee also."

"Sergeant, we must let Mabel follow her own fancy; she
is young and light of heart, and God forbid that any wish
of mine should lay the weight of a feather on a mind that
is all gaiety now, or take one note of happiness from her
laughter!"

"Have you conversed freely with the girl?" the Sergeant
demanded quickly, and with some asperity of manner.

Pathfinder was too honest to deny a truth plain as that
which the answer required, and yet too honorable to betray
Mabel, and expose her to the resentment of one whom he
well knew to be stern in his anger.

"We have laid open our minds," he said; "and though
Mabel's is one that any man might love to look at, I find
little there, Sergeant, to make me think any better of my-
self."

"The girl has not dared to refuse you -- to refuse her
father's best friend?"

Pathfinder turned his face away to conceal the look of
anguish that consciousness told him was passing athwart
it, but he continued the discourse in his own quiet, manly
tones.

"Mabel is too kind to refuse anything, or to utter harsh
words to a dog.  I have not put the question in a way to
be downright refused, Sergeant."

"And did you expect my daughter to jump into your
arms before you asked her?  She would not have been her
mother's child had she done any such thing, nor do I think
she would have been mine.  The Dunhams like plain
dealing as well as the king's majesty; but they are no
jumpers.  Leave me to manage this matter for you, Path-
finder, and there shall be no unnecessary delay.  I'll speak
to Mabel myself this very evening, using your name as
principal in the affair."

"I'd rather not, I'd rather not, Sergeant.  Leave the
matter to Mabel and me, and I think all will come right in
the ind.  Young girls are like timorsome birds; they do
not over-relish being hurried or spoken harshly to nither.
Leave the matter to Mabel and me."

"On one condition I will, my friend; and that is, that
you will promise me, on the honor of a scout, that you will
put the matter plainly to Mabel the first suitable oppor-
tunity, and no mincing of words."

"I will ask her, Sergeant, on condition that you promise
not to meddle in the affair -- yes, I will promise to ask
Mabel whether she will marry me, even though she laugh
in my face at my doing so, on that condition."

Sergeant Dunham gave the desired promise very cheer-
fully; for he had completely wrought himself up into the
belief that the man he so much esteemed himself must be
acceptable to his daughter.  He had married a woman
much younger than himself, and he saw no unfitness in the
respective years of the intended couple.  Mabel was edu-
cated so much above him, too, that he was not aware of
the difference which actually existed between the parent
and child in this respect.  It followed that Sergeant Dun-
ham was not altogether qualified to appreciate his daugh-
ter's tastes, or to form a very probable conjecture what
would be the direction taken by those feelings which
oftener depend on impulses and passion than on reason.
Still, the worthy soldier was not so wrong in his estimate
of the Pathfinder's chances as might at first appear.  Know-
ing all the sterling qualities of the man, his truth, integ-
rity of purpose, courage, self-devotion, disinterestedness,
it was far from unreasonable to suppose that qualities like
these would produce a deep impression on any female heart;
and the father erred principally in fancying that the
daughter might know as it might be by intuition what he
himself had acquired by years of intercourse and adventure.

As Pathfinder and his military friend descended the hill
to the shore of the lake, the discourse did not flag.  The
latter continued to persuade the former that his diffidence
alone prevented complete success with Mabel, and that he
had only to persevere in order to prevail.  Pathfinder was
much too modest by nature, and had been too plainly,
though so delicately, discouraged in the recent interview
to believe all he heard; still the father used so many argu-
inents which seemed plausible, and it was so grateful to
fancy that the daughter might yet be his, that the reader
is not to be surprised when he is told that this unsophis-
ticated being did not view Mabel's recent conduct in pre-
cisely the light in which he may be inclined to view it
himself.  He did not credit all that the Sergeant told him,
it is true; but he began to think virgin coyness and igno-
rance of her own feelings might have induced Mabel to
use the language she had.

"The Quartermaster is no favorite," said Pathfinder in
answer to one of his companion's remarks.  "Mabel will
never look on him as more than one who has had four or
five wives already."

"Which is more than his share.  A man may marry
twice without offence to good morals and decency, I allow!
but four times is an aggravation."

"I should think even marrying once what Master Cap
calls a circumstance," put in Pathfinder, laughing in his
quiet way, for by this time his spirits had recovered some
of their buoyancy.

"It is, indeed, my friend, and a most solemn circum-
stance too.  If it were not that Mabel is to be your wife,
I would advise you to remain single.  But here is the girl
herself, and discretion is the word."

"Ah's me, Sergeant, I fear you are mistaken!"



CHAPTER XIX.

Thus was this place
A happy rural seat of various view.
MILTON.


Mabel was in waiting on the beach, and the canoe was
soon launched.  Pathfinder carried the party out through
the surf in the same skillful manner that he had brought
it in; and though Mabel's color heightened with excite-
ment, and her heart seemed often ready to leap out of her
mouth again, they reached the side of the _Scud_ without
having received even a drop of spray.

Ontario is like a quick-tempered man, sudden to be an-
gered, and as soon appeased.  The sea had already fallen;
and though the breakers bounded the shore, far as the eye
could reach, it was merely in lines of brightness, that ap-
peared and vanished like the returning waves produced by
a stone which had been dropped into a pool.  The cable
of the _Scud_ was scarcely seen above the water, and Jasper
had already hoisted his sails, in readiness to depart as soon
as the expected breeze from the shore should fill the can-
vas.

It was just sunset as the cutter's mainsail flapped and
its stem began to sever the water.  The air was light and
southerly, and the head of the vessel was kept looking up
along the south shore, it being the intention to get to the
eastward again as fast as possible.  The night that suc-
ceeded was quiet; and the rest of those who slept deep and
tranquil.

Some difficulty occurred concerning the command of
the vessel, but the matter had been finally settled by an
amicable compromise.  As the distrust of Jasper was far
from being appeased, Cap retained a supervisory power,
while the young man was allowed to work the craft, sub-
ject, at all times, to the control and interference of the old
seaman.  To this Jasper consented, in preference to ex-
posing Mabel any longer to tbe dangers of their present
situation; for, now that the violence of the elements had
ceased, he well knew that the _Montcalm_ would be in search
of them.  He had the discretion, however, not to reveal
his apprehensions on this head; for it happened that the
very means he deemed the best to escape the enemy were
those which would be most likely to awaken new suspi-
cions of his honesty in the minds of those who held the
power to defeat his intentions.  In other words, Jasper
believed that the gallant young Frenchman, who com-
manded the ship of the enemy, would quit his anchorage
under the fort at Niagara, and stand up the lake, as soon
as the wind abated, in order to ascertain the fate of the
_Scud_, keeping midway between the two shores as the best
means of commanding a broad view; and that, on his part,
it would be expedient to hug one coast or the other, not
only to avoid a meeting, but as affording a chance of pass-
ing without detection by blending his sails and spars with
objects on the land.  He preferred the south because it
was the weather shore, and because he thought it was that
which the enemy would the least expect him to take,
though it necessarily led near his settlements, and in front
of one of the strongest posts he held in that part of the
world.

Of all this, however, Cap was happily ignorant, and the
Sergeant's mind was too much occupied with the details
of his military trust to enter into these niceties, which so
properly belonged to another profession.  No opposition
was made, therefore, and before morning Jasper had ap-
parently dropped quietly into all his former authority, is-
suing his orders freely, and meeting with obedience with-
out hesitation or cavil.

The appearance of day brought all on board on deck
again; and, as is usual with adventurers on the water, the
opening horizon was curiously examined, as objects started
out of the obscurity, and the panorama brightened under
the growing light.  East, west, and north nothing was visi-
ble but water glittering in the rising sun; but southward
stretched the endless belt of woods that then held Ontario
in a setting of forest verdure.  Suddenly an opening ap-
peared ahead, and then the massive walls of a chateau-look-
ing house, with outworks, bastions, blockhouses, and pali-
sadoes, frowned on a headland that bordered the outlet of
a broad stream.  Just as the fort became visible, a little
cloud rose over it, and the white ensign of France was seen
fluttering from a lofty flagstaff.

Cap gave an ejaculation as he witnessed this ungrateful
exhibition, and he cast a quick suspicious glance at his
brother-in-law.

The dirty tablecloth hung up to air, as my name is
Charles Cap!" he muttered; "and we hugging this d----d
shore as if it were our wife and children met on the return
from an India v'y'ge!  Hark'e, Jasper, are you in search
of a cargo of frogs, that you keep so near in to this New
France?"

"I hug the land, sir, in the hope of passing the enemy's
ship without being seen, for I think she must be some-
where down here to leeward."

"Ay, ay, this sounds well, and I hope it may turn out as
you say.  I trust there is no under-tow here?"

"We are on a weather shore, now," said Jasper, smiling;
"and I think you will admit, Master Cap, that a strong
under-tow makes an easy cable: we owe all our lives to the
under-tow of this very lake."

"French flummery!" growled Cap, though he did not
care to be heard by Jasper.  "Give me a fair, honest,
English-Yankee-American tow, above board, and above
water too, if I must have a tow at all, and none of your
sneaking drift that is below the surface, where one can
neither see nor feel.  I daresay, if the truth could be come
at, that this late escape of ours was all a contrived affair."

"We have now a good opportunity, at least, to recon-
noitre the enemy's post at Niagara, brother, for such I take
this fort to be," put in the Sergeant.  "Let us be all eyes
in passing, and remember that we are almost in face of
the enemy."

This advice of the Sergeant needed nothing to enforce
it; for the interest and novelty of passing a spot occupied
by human beings were of themselves sufficient to attract
deep attention in that scene of a vast but deserted nature.
The wind was now fresh enough to urge the _Scud_ through
the water with considerable velocity, and Jasper eased her
helm as she opened the river, and luffed nearly into the
mouth of that noble strait, or river, as it is termed.  A
dull, distant, heavy roar came down through the opening
in the banks, swelling on the currents of the air, like the
deeper notes of some immense organ, and occasionally
seeming to cause the earth itself to tremble.

"That sounds like surf on some long unbroken coast!"
exclaimed Cap, as a swell, deeper than common, came to his
ears.

"Ay, that is such surf as we have in this quarter of the
world," Pathfinder answered.  "There is no under-tow
there, Master Cap; but all the water that strikes the rocks
stays there, so far as going back again is consarned.  That
is old Niagara that you hear, or this noble stream tum-
bling down a mountain."

"No one will have the impudence to pretend that this
fine broad river falls over yonder hills?"

"It does, Master Cap, it does; and all for the want of
stairs, or a road to come down by.  This is natur', as we
have it up hereaway, though I daresay you beat us down
on the ocean.  Ah's me, Mabel! a pleasant hour it would
be if we could walk on the shore some ten or fifteen miles
up this stream, and gaze on all that God has done there."

"You have, then, seen these renowned falls, Path-
finder?" the girl eagerly inquired.

"I have -- yes, I have; and an awful sight I witnessed at
that same time.  The Sarpent and I were out scouting
about the garrison there, when he told me that the tradi-
tions of his people gave an account of a mighty cataract in
this neighborhood, and he asked me to vary from the line
of march a little to look at the wonder.  I had heard some
marvels consarning the spot from the soldiers of the 60th,
which is my nat'ral corps like, and not the 55th, with
which I have sojourned so much of late; but there are so
many terrible liars in all rijiments that I hardly believed
half they had told me.  Well, we went; and though we
expected to be led by our ears, and to hear some of that
awful roaring that we hear to-day, we were disappointed,
for natur' was not then speaking in thunder, as she is this
morning.  Thus it is in the forest, Master Cap; there
being moments when God seems to be walking abroad in
power, and then; again, there is a calm over all, as if His
spirit lay in quiet along the 'arth.  Well, we came sud-
denly upon the stream, a short distance above the fall, and
a young Delaware, who was in our company, found a bark
canoe, and he would push into the current to reach an
island that lies in the very centre of the confusion and
strife.  We told him of his folly, we did; and we reasoned
with him on the wickedness of tempting Providence by
seeking danger that led to no ind; but the youth among
the Delawares are very much the same as the youth among
the soldiers, risky and vain.  All we could say did not
change his mind, and the lad had his way.  To me it seems,
Mabel, that whenever a thing is really grand and potent,
it has a quiet majesty about it, altogether unlike the frothy
and flustering manner of smaller matters, and so it was
with them rapids.  The canoe was no sooner fairly in
them, than down it went, as it might be, as one sails
through the air on the 'arth, and no skill of the young
Delaware could resist the stream.  And yet he struggled
manfully for life, using the paddle to the last, like the deer
that is swimming to cast the hounds.  At first he shot
across the current so swiftly, that we thought he would
prevail; but he had miscalculated his distance, and when
the truth really struck him, he turned the head up-stream,
and struggled in a way that was fearful to look at.  I could
have pitied him even had he been a Mingo.  For a few
moments his efforts were so frantic that he actually pre-
vailed over the power of the cataract; but natur' has its
limits, and one faltering stroke of the paddle set him back,
and then he lost ground, foot by foot, inch by inch, until
he got near the spot where the river looked even and
green, and as if it were made of millions of threads of
water, all bent over some huge rock, when he shot back-
wards like an arrow and disappeared, the bow of the canoe
tipping just enough to let us see what had become of him.
I met a Mohawk some years later who had witnessed the
whole affair from the bed of the stream below, and he told
me that the Delaware continued to paddle in the air until
he was lost in the mists of the falls."

"And what became of the poor wretch?" demanded
Mabel, who had been strongly interested by the natural
eloquence of the speaker.

"He went to the happy hunting-grounds of his people,
no doubt; for though he was risky and vain, he was also
just and brave.  Yes, he died foolishly, but the Manitou
of the red-skins has compassion on his creaturs as well as
the God of a Christian."

A gun at this moment was discharged from a blockhouse
near the fort; and the shot, one of light weight, came
whistling over the cutter's mast, an admonition to ap-
proach no nearer.  Jasper was at the helm, and he kept
away, smiling at the same time as if he felt no anger at
the rudeness of the salutation.  The _Scud_ was now in the
current, and her outward set soon carried her far enough
to leeward to avoid the danger of a repetition of the shot,
and then she quietly continued her course along the land.
As soon as the river was fairly opened, Jasper ascertained
that the _Montcalm_ was not at anchor in it; and a man
sent aloft came down with the report that the horizon
showed no sail.  The hope was now strong that the artifice
of Jasper had succeeded, and that the French commander
had missed them by keeping the middle of the lake as he
steered towards its head.

All that day the wind hung to the southward, and the
cutter continued her course about a league from the land,
running six or eight knots the hour in perfectly smooth
water.  Although the scene had one feature of monotony,
the outline of unbroken forest, it was not without its in-
terest and pleasures.  Various headlands presented them-
selves, and the cutter, in running from one to another,
stretched across bays so deep as almost to deserve the
name of gulfs.  But nowhere did the eye meet with the
evidences of civilization; rivers occasionally poured their
tribute into the great reservoir of the lake, but their banks
could be traced inland for miles by the same outlines of
trees; and even large bays, that lay embosomed in woods,
communicating with Ontario only by narrow outlets, ap-
peared and disappeared, without bringing with them a sin-
gle trace of a human habitation.

Of all on board, the Pathfinder viewed the scene with
the most unmingled delight.  His eyes feasted on the end-
less line of forest, and more than once that day, notwith-
standing he found it so grateful to be near Mabel, listen-
ing to her pleasant voice, and echoing, in feelings at least,
her joyous laugh, did his soul pine to be wandering be-
neath the high arches of the maples, oaks, and lindens,
where his habits had induced him to fancy lasting and
true joys were only to be found.  Cap viewed the prospect
differently; more than once he expressed his disgust at
there being no lighthouses, church-towers, beacons, or road-
steads with their shipping.  Such another coast, he pro-
tested, the world did not contain; and, taking the Ser-
geant aside, he gravely assured him that the region could
never come to anything, as the havens were neglected, the
rivers had a deserted and useless look, and that even the
breeze had a smell of the forest about it, which spoke ill
of its properties.

But the humors of the different individuals in her did
not stay the speed of the _Scud:_ when the sun was setting,
she was already a hundred miles on her route towards
Oswego, into which river Sergeant Dunham now thought
it his duty to go, in order to receive any communications
that Major Duncan might please to make.  With a view
to effect this purpose, Jasper continued to hug the shore
all night; and though the wind began to fail him towards
morning, it lasted long enough to carry the cutter up to a
point that was known to be but a league or two from the
fort.  Here the breeze came out light at the northward,
and the cutter hauled a little from the land, in order to
obtain a safe offing should it come on to blow, or should
the weather again get to be easterly.

When the day dawned, the cutter had the mouth of the
Oswego well under the lee, distant about two miles; and
just as the morning gun from the fort was fired, Jasper
gave the order to ease off the sheets, and to bear up for
his port.  At that moment a cry from the forecastle drew
all eyes towards the point on the eastern side of the outlet,
and there, just without the range of shot from the light
guns of the works, with her canvas reduced to barely
enough to keep her stationary, lay the _Montcalm_, evidently
in waiting for their appearance.

To pass her was impossible, for by filling her sails the
French ship could have intercepted them in a few min-
utes; and the circumstances called for a prompt decision.
After a short consultation, the Sergeant again changed his
plan, determining to make the best of his way towards the
station for which he had been originally destined, trusting
to the speed of the _Scud_ to throw the enemy so far astern
as to leave no clue to her movements.

The cutter accordingly hauled upon a wind with the
least possible delay, with everything set that would draw.
Guns were fired from the fort, ensigns shown, and the
ramparts were again crowded.  But sympathy was all the
aid that Lundie could lend to his party; and the _Mont-
calm_, also firing four or five guns of defiance, and throwing
abroad several of the banners of France, was soon in chase
under a cloud of canvas.

For several hours the two vessels were pressing through
the water as fast as possible, making short stretches to
windward, apparently with a view to keep the port under
their lee, the one to enter it if possible, and the other to
intercept it in the attempt.

At meridian the French ship was hull down, dead to
leeward, the disparity of sailing on a wind being very
great, and some islands were near by, behind which Jas-
per said it would be possible for the cutter to conceal her
future movements.  Although Cap and the Sergeant, and
particularly Lieutenant Muir, to judge by his language,
still felt a good deal of distrust of the young man, and
Frontenac was not distant, this advice was followed; for
time pressed, and the Quartermaster discreetly observed
that Jasper could not well betray them without running
openly into the enemy's harbor, a step they could at any
time prevent, since the only cruiser of force the French
possessed at the moment was under their lee and not in a
situation to do them any immediate injury.

Left to himself, Jasper Western soon proved how much
was really in him.  He weathered upon the islands, passed
them, and on coming out to the eastward, kept broad
away, with nothing in sight in his wake or to leeward.
By sunset again the cutter was up with the first of the
islands that lie in the outlet of the lake; and ere it was
dark she was running through the narrow channels on her
way to the long-sought station.  At nine o'clock, however,
Cap insisted that they should anchor; for the maze of
islands became so complicated and obscure, that he feared,
at every opening, the party would find themselves under
the guns of a French fort.  Jasper consented cheerfully,
it being a part of his standing instructions to approach the
station under such circumstances as would prevent the
men from obtaining any very accurate notions of its posi-
tion, lest a deserter might betray the little garrison to the
enemy.

The _Scud_ was brought to in a small retired bay, where
it would have been difficult to find her by daylight, and
where she was perfectly concealed at night, when all but a
solitary sentinel on deck sought their rest.  Cap had been
so harassed during the previous eight-and-forty hours,
that his slumbers were long and deep; nor did he awake
from his first nap until the day was just beginning to
dawn.  His eyes were scarcely open, however, when his
nautical instinct told him that the cutter was under way.
Springing up, he found the _Scud_ threading the islands
again, with no one on deck but Jasper and the pilot, un-
less the sentinel be excepted, who had not in the least
interfered with movements that he had every reason to
believe were as regular as they were necessary.

"How's this, Master Western?" demanded Cap, with
sufficient fierceness for the occasion; "are you running us
into Frontenac at last, and we all asleep below, like so
many mariners waiting for the 'sentry go'?"

"This is according to orders, Master Cap, Major Duncan
having commanded me never to approach the station un-
less at a moment when the people were below; for he does
not wish there should be more pilots in those waters than
the king has need of."

"Whe-e-e-w! a pretty job I should have made of
running down among these bushes and rocks with no one
on deck!  Why, a regular York branch could make noth-
ing of such a channel."

"I always thought, sir," said Jasper, smiling, "you would
have done better had you left the cutter in my hands until
she had safely reached her place of destination."

"We should have done it, Jasper, we should have done
it, had it not been for a circumstance; these circumstances
are serious matters, and no prudent man will overlook
them."

"Well, sir, I hope there is now an end of them.  We
shall arrive in less than an hour if the wind holds, and
then you'll be safe from any circumstances that I can
contrive."

"Humph!"

Cap was obliged to acquiesce; and, as everything around
him had the appearance of Jasper's being sincere, there
was not much difficulty in making up his mind to submit.
It would not have been easy indeed for a person the most
sensitive on the subject of circumstances to fancy that the
_Scud_ was anywhere in the vicinity of a port so long es-
tablished and so well known on the frontiers as Fronte-
nac.  The islands might not have been literally a thousand
in number, but they were so numerous and small as to
baffle calculation, though occasionally one of larger size
than common was passed.  Jasper had quitted what might
have been termed the main channel, and was winding his
way, with a good stiff breeze and a favorable current,
through passes that were sometimes so narrow that there
appeared to be barely room sufficient for the _Scud's_ spars
to clear the trees, while at other moments he shot across
little bays, and buried the cutter again amid rocks, forests,
and bushes.  The water was so transparent that there
was no occasion for the lead, and being of very equal
depth, little risk was actually run, though Cap, with his
maritime habits, was in a constant fever lest they should
strike.

"I give it up, I give it up, Pathfinder!" the old seaman
at length exclaimed, when the little vessel emerged in
safety from the twentieth of these narrow inlets through
which she had been so boldly carried; "this is defying the
very nature of seamanship, and sending all its laws and
rules to the d---l!"

"Nay, nay, Saltwater, 'tis the perfection of the art.  You
perceive that Jasper never falters, but, like a hound with
a true nose, he runs with his head high as if he had a
strong scent.  My life on it, the lad brings us out right in
the ind, as he would have done in the beginning had we
given him leave."

"No pilot, no lead, no beacons, buoys, or lighthouses,
no -- "

"Trail," interrupted Pathfinder; "for that to me is the
most mysterious part of the business.  Water leaves no
trail, as every one knows; and yet here is Jasper moving
ahead as boldly as if he had before his eyes the prints of
the moccassins on leaves as plainly as we can see the sun
in the heaven."

"D--- me, if I believe there is even any compass!"

"Stand by to haul down the jib," called out Jasper,
who merely smiled at the remarks of his companion.
"Haul down -- starboard your helm -- starboard hard -- so
- meet her -- gently there with the helm -- touch her lightly
- now jump ashore with the fast, lad -- no, heave; there
are some of our people ready to take it."

All this passed so quickly as barely to allow the spectator
time to note the different evolutions, ere the _Scud_ had been
thrown into the wind until her mainsail shivered, next
cast a little by the use of the rudder only, and then she set
bodily alongside of a natural rocky quay, where she was
immediately secured by good fasts run to the shore.  In
a word, the station was reached, and the men of the 55th
were greeted by their expecting comrades, with the satis-
faction which a relief usually brings.

Mabel sprang up on the shore with a delight which she
did not care to express; and her father led his men after
her with an alacrity which proved how wearied he had be-
come of the cutter.  The station, as the place was fami-
liarly termed by the soldiers of the 55th, was indeed a spot
to raise expectations of enjoyment among those who had
been cooped up so long in a vessel of the dimensions of
the _Scud_.  None of the islands were high, though all lay
at a sufficient elevation above the water to render them
perfectly healthy and secure.  Each had more or less of
wood; and the greater number at that distant day were
clothed with the virgin forest.  The one selected by the
troops for their purpose was small, containing about twenty
acres of land, and by some of the accidents of the wilder-
ness it had been partly stripped of its trees, probably cen-
turies before the period of which we are writing, and a
little grassy glade covered nearly half its surface.

The shores of Station Island were completely fringed
with bushes, and great care had been taken to preserve
them, as they answered as a screen to conceal the persons
and things collected within their circle.  Favored by this
shelter, as well as by that of several thickets of trees and
different copses, some six or eight low huts bad been erected
to be used as quarters for the officer and his men, to con-
tain stores, and to serve the purposes of kitchen, hospital,
etc.  These huts were built of logs in the usual manner,
had been roofed by bark brought from a distance, lest the
signs of labor should attract attention, and, as they had
now been inhabited some months, were as comfortable as
dwellings of that description usually ever get to be.

At the eastern extremity of the island, however, was a
small, densely-wooded peninsula, with a thicket of under-
brush so closely matted as nearly to prevent the possibility
of seeing across it, so long as the leaves remained on the
branches.  Near the narrow neck that connected this acre
with the rest of the island, a small blockhouse had been
erected, with some attention to its means of resistance.
The logs were bullet-proof, squared and jointed with a
care to leave no defenceless points; the windows were loop-
holes, the door massive and small, and the roof, like the
rest of the structure, was framed of hewn timber, covered
properly with bark to exclude the rain.  The lower apart-
ment as usual contained stores and provisions; here indeed
the party kept all their supplies; the second story was in-
tended for a dwelling, as well as for the citadel, and a low
garret was subdivided into two or three rooms, and could
hold the pallets of some ten or fifteen persons.  All the
arrangements were exceedingly simple and cheap, but they
were sufficient to protect the soldiers against the effects of
a surprise.  As the whole building was considerably less
than forty feet high, its summit was concealed by the tops
of the trees, except from the eyes of those who had reached
the interior of the island.  On that side the view was open
from the upper loops, though bushes even there, more or
less, concealed the base of the wooden tower.

The object being purely defence, care had been taken to
place the blockhouse so near an opening in the limestone
rock that formed the base of the island as to admit of a
bucket being dropped into the water, in order to obtain
that great essential in the event of a siege.  In order to
facilitate this operation, and to enfilade the base of the
building, the upper stories projected several feet beyond
the lower in the manner usual to blockhouses, and pieces
of wood filled the apertures cut in the log flooring, which
were intended as loops and traps.  The communications
between the different stories were by means of ladders.  If
we add that these blockhouses were intended as citadels
for garrisons or settlements to retreat to, in the cases of
attacks, the general reader will obtain a sufficiently correct
idea of the arrangements it is our wish to explain.

But the situation of the island itself formed its principal
merit as a military position.  Lying in the midst of twenty
others, it was not an easy matter to find it; since boats
might pass quite near, and, by glimpses caught through
the openings, this particular island would be taken for a
part of some other.  Indeed, the channels between the
islands which lay around the one we have been describing
were so narrow that it was even difficult to say which por-
tions of the land were connected, or which separated, even
as one stood in the centre, with the express desire of ascer-
taining the truth.  The little bay in particular, which
Jasper used as a harbor, was so embowered with bushes
and shut in with islands, that, the sails of the cutter being
lowered, her own people on one occasion had searched for
hours before they could find the _Scud_, in their return from
a short excursion among the adjacent channels in quest of
fish.  In short, the place was admirably adapted to its
present objects, and its natural advantages had been as in-
geniously improved as economy and the limited means of
a frontier post would very well allow.

The hour which succeeded the arrival of the _Scud_ was
one of hurried excitement.  The party in possession had
done nothing worthy of being mentioned, and, wearied
with their seclusion, they were all eager to return to Os-
wego.  The Sergeant and the officer he came to relieve had
no sooner gone through the little ceremonies of transfer-
ring the command, than the latter hurried on board the
_Scud_ with his whole party; and Jasper, who would gladly
have passed the day on the island, was required to get
under way forthwith, the wind promising a quick passage
up the river and across the lake.  Before separating, how-
ever, Lieutenant Muir, Cap, and the Sergeant had a private
conference with the ensign who had been relieved, in
which the last was made acquainted with the suspicions
that existed against the fidelity of the young sailor.
Promising due caution, the officer embarked, and in less
than three hours from the time when she had arrived the
cutter was again in motion.

Mabel had taken possession of a hut; and with female
readiness and skill she made all the simple little domestic
arrangements of which the circumstances would admit, not
only for her own comfort, but for that of her father.  To
save labor, a mess-table was prepared in a hut set apart
for that purpose, where all the heads of the detachment
were to eat, the soldier's wife performing the necessary
labor.  The hut of the Sergeant, which was the best on
the island, being thus freed from any of the vulgar offices
of a household, admitted of such a display of womanly
taste, that, for the first time since her arrival on the fron-
tier, Mabel felt proud of her home.  As soon as these im-
portant duties were discharged, she strolled out on the
island, taking a path which led through the pretty glade,
and which conducted to the only point not covered with
bushes.  Here she stood gazing at the limpid water, which
lay with scarcely a ruffle on it at her feet, musing on the
novel situation in which she was placed, and permitting a
pleasing and deep excitement to steal over her feelings,
as she remembered the scenes through which she had so
lately passed, and conjectured those which still lay veiled
in the future.

"You're a beautiful fixture, in a beautiful spot, Mistress
Mabel," said David Muir, suddenly appearing at her el-
bow; "and I'll no' engage you're not just the handsomest
of the two."

"I will not say, Mr. Muir, that compliments on my per-
son are altogether unwelcome, for I should not gain credit
for speaking the truth, perhaps," answered Mabel with
spirit; "but I will say that if you would condescend to
address to me some remarks of a different nature, I may
be led to believe you think I have sufficient faculties to
understand them."

"Hoot! your mind, beautiful Mabel, is polished just like
the barrel of a soldier's musket, and your conversation is
only too discreet and wise for a poor d---l who has been
chewing birch up here these four years on the lines, instead
of receiving it in an application that has the virtue of
imparting knowledge.  But you are no' sorry, I take it,
young lady, that you've got your pretty foot on _terra firma_
once more."

"I thought so two hours since, Mr. Muir; but the _Scud_
looks so beautiful as she sails through these vistas of trees,
that I almost regret I am no longer one of her passengers."

As Mabel ceased speaking, she waved, her handkerchief
in return to a salutation from Jasper, who kept his eyes
fastened on her form until the white sails of the cutter
had swept round a point, and were nearly lost behind its
green fringe of leaves.

"There they go, and I'll no' say 'joy go with them;' but
may they have the luck to return safely, for without them
we shall be in danger of passing the winter on this island;
unless, indeed, we have the alternative of the castle at
Quebec.  Yon Jasper Eau-douce is a vagrant sort of a lad,
and they have reports of him in the garrison that it pains
my very heart to hear.  Your worthy father, and almost
as worthy uncle, have none of the best opinion of him."

"I am sorry to hear it, Mr. Muir; I doubt not that time
will remove all their distrust."

"If time would only remove mine, pretty Mabel," re-
joined the Quartermaster in a wheedling tone, "I should
feel no envy of the commander-in-chief.  I think if I were
in a condition to retire, the Sergeant would just step into
my shoes."

"If my dear father is worthy to step into your shoes, Mr.
Muir," returned the girl, with malicious pleasure, "I'm
sure that the qualification is mutual, and that you are every
way worthy to step into his."

"The deuce is in the child! you would not reduce me
to the rank of a non-commissioned officer, Mabel?"

"No, indeed, sir; I was not thinking of the army at all
as you spoke of retiring.  My thoughts were more egotis-
tical, and I was thinking how much you reminded me of
my dear father, by your experience, wisdom, ana suitable-
ness to take his place as the head of a family."

"As its bridegroom, pretty Mabel, but not as its parent
or natural chief.  I see how it is with you, loving your re-
partee, and brilliant with wit.  Well, I like spirit in a
young woman, so it be not the spirit of a scold.  This
Pathfinder is all extraordinair, Mabel, if truth may be said
of the man."

"Truth should be said of him or nothing.  Pathfinder
is my friend -- my very particular friend, Mr. Muir, and no
evil can be said of him in my presence that I shall not
deny."

"I shall say nothing evil of him, I can assure you, Ma-
bel; but, at the same time, I doubt if much good can be
said in his favor."

"He is at least expert with the rifle," returned Mabel,
smiling.  "That you cannot deny."

"Let him have all the credit of his exploits in that way
if you please; but he is as illiterate as a Mohawk."

"He may not understand Latin, but his knowledge of
Iroquois is greater than that of most men, and it is the
more useful language of the two in this part of the world."

"If Lundie himself were to call on me for an opinion
which I admire more, your person or your wit, beautiful
and caustic Mabel, I should be at a loss to answer.  My
admiration is so nearly divided between them, that I often
fancy this is the one that bears off the palm, and then the
other!  Ah!  the late Mrs. Muir was a paragon in that
way also."

"The latest Mrs. Muir, did you say, sir?" asked Mabel,
looking up innocently at her companion.

"Hoot, hoot!  That is some of Pathfinder's scandal.
Now I daresay that the fellow has been trying to persuade
you, Mabel, that I have had more than one wife already."

"In that case his time would have been thrown away, sir,
as everybody knows that you have been so unfortunate as
to have had four."

"Only three, as sure as my name is David Muir.  The
fourth is pure scandal -- or rather, pretty Mabel, she is yet
_in petto_, as they say at Rome; and that means, in matters
of love, in the heart, my dear."

"Well, I'm glad I'm not that fourth person, _in petto_, or
in anything else, as I should not like to be a scandal."

"No fear of that, charming Mabel; for were you the
fourth, all the others would be forgotten, and your won-
derful beauty and merit would at once elevate you to be
the first.  No fear of your being the fourth in any
thing."

There is consolation in that assurance, Mr. Muir," said
Mabel, laughing, "whatever there may be in your other
assurance; for I confess I should prefer being even a
fourth-rate beauty to being a fourth wife."

So saying she tripped away, leaving the Quartermaster
to meditate on his success.  Mabel had been induced to
use her female means of defence thus freely, partly be-
cause her suitor had of late been so pointed as to stand in
need of a pretty strong repulse, and partly on account of
his innuendoes against Jasper and the Pathfinder.
Though full of spirit and quick of intellect, she was not
naturally pert; but on the present occasion she thought
circumstances called for more than usual decision.  When
she left her companion, therefore, she believed she was now
finally released from attentions which she thought as ill-
bestowed as they were certainly disagreeable.  Not so,
however, with David Muir; accustomed to rebuffs, and
familiar with the virtue of perseverance, he saw no reason
to despair, though the half-menacing, half-self-satisfied
manner in which he shook his head towards the retreating
girl might have betrayed designs as sinister as they were
determined.  While he was thus occupied, the Pathfinder
approached, and got within a few feet of him unseen.

"'Twill never do, Quartermaster, 'twill never do," com-
menced the latter, laughing in his noiseless way; "she is
young and active, and none but a quick foot can overtake
her.  They tell me you are her suitor, if you are not her
follower."

"And I hear the same of yourself, man, though the pre-
sumption would be so great that I scarcely can think it
true."

"I fear you're right, I do; yes, I fear you're right; --
when I consider myself, what I am, how little I know, and
how rude my life has been, I altogether distrust my claim,
even to think a moment of one so tutored, and gay, and
light of heart, and delicate -- "

"You forget handsome," coarsely interrupted Muir.

"And handsome, too, I fear," returned the meek and
self-abased guide; "I might have said handsome at once,
among her other qualities; for the young fa'n, just as it
learns to bound, is not more pleasant to the eye of the hun-
ter than Mabel is lovely in mine.  I do indeed fear that
all the thoughts I have harbored about her are vain and
presumptuous."

"If you think this, my friend, of your own accord and
natural modesty, as it might be, my duty to you as an old
fellow-campaigner compels me to say -- "

"Quartermaster," interrupted the other, regarding his
companion keenly, "you and I have lived together much
behind the ramparts of forts, but very little in the open
woods or in front of the enemy."

"Garrison or tent, it all passes for part of the same cam-
paign, you know, Pathfinder; and then my duty keeps me
much within sight of the storehouses, greatly contrary to
my inclinations, as ye may well suppose, having yourself
the ardor of battle in your temperament.  But had ye heard
what Mabel had just been saying of you, ye'd no think
another minute of making yourself agreeable to the saucy
and uncompromising hussy."

Pathfinder looked earnestly at the lieutenant, for it was
impossible he should not feel an interest in what might be
Mabel's opinion; but he had too much of the innate and
true feeling of a gentleman to ask to hear what another had
said of him.  Muir, however, was not to be foiled by this
self-denial and self-respect; for, believing he had a man
of great truth and simplicity to deal with, he determined
to practise on his credulity, as one means of getting rid of
his rivalry.  He therefore pursued the subject, as soon as
he perceived that his companion's self-denial was stronger
than his curiosity.

"You ought to know her opinion, Pathfinder," he con-
tinued; "and I think every man ought to hear what his
friends and acquaintances say of him: and so, by way of
proving my own regard for your character and feelings,
I'll just tell you in as few words as possible.  You know
that Mabel has a wicked, malicious way with them eyes of
her own, when she has a mind to be hard upon one's feel-
ings."

"To me her eyes, Lieutenant Muir, have always seemed
winning and soft, though I will acknowledge that they
sometimes laugh; yes, I have known them to laugh, and
that right heartily, and with downright goodwill."

"Well, it was just that then; her eyes were laughing
with all their might, as it were; and in the midst of all
her fun, she broke out with an exclamation to this effect:
- I hope 'twill no' hurt your sensibility, Pathfinder?"

"I will not say Quartermaster, I will not say.  Mabel's
opinion of me is of no more account than that of most others."

"Then I'll no' tell ye, but just keep discretion on the
subject; and why should a man be telling another what
his friends say of him, especially when they happen to say
that which may not be pleasant to hear?  I'll not add an-
other word to this present communication."

"I cannot make you speak, Quartermaster, if you are
not so minded, and perhaps it is better for me not to know
Mabel's opinion, as you seem to think it is not in my favor.
Ah's me! if we could be what we wish to be, instead of
being only what we are, there would be a great difference
in our characters and knowledge and appearance.  One
may be rude and coarse and ignorant, and yet happy, if he
does not know it; but it is hard to see our own failings in
the strongest light, just as we wish to hear the least about
them."

"That's just the _rationale_, as the French say, of the
matter; and so I was telling Mabel, when she ran away
and left me.  You noticed the manner in which she
skipped off as you approached?"

"It was very observable," answered Pathfinder, drawing
a long breath and clenching the barrel of his rifle as if the
fingers would bury themselves in the iron.

"It was more than observable -- it was flagrant; that's
just the word, and the dictionary wouldn't supply a bet-
ter, after an hour's search.  Well, you must know, Path-
finder, -- for I cannot reasonably deny you the gratification
of hearing this, -- so you must know the minx bounded off
in that manner in preference to hearing what I had to say
in your justification."

"And what could you find to say in my behalf, Quarter-
master?"

"Why, d'ye understand, my friend, I was ruled by cir-
cumstances, and no' ventured indiscreetly into generalities,
but was preparing to meet particulars, as it might be, with
particulars.  If you were thought wild, half-savage, or of
a frontier formation, I could tell her, ye know, that it came
of the frontier, wild and half-savage life ye'd led; and all
her objections must cease at once, or there would be a sort
of a misunderstanding with Providence."

"And did you tell her this, Quartermaster?"

"I'll no' swear to the exact words, but the idea was prev-
alent in my mind, ye'll understand.  The girl was impa-
tient, and would not hear the half I had to say; but away
she skipped, as ye saw with your own eyes, Pathfinder, as
if her opinion were fully made up, and she cared to listen
no longer.  I fear her mind may be said to have come to
its conclusion?"

"I fear it has indeed, Quartermaster, and her father,
after all, is mistaken.  Yes, yes; the Sergeant has fallen
into a grievous error."

"Well, man, why need ye lament, and undo all the grand
reputation ye've been so many weary years making?
Shoulder the rifle that ye use so well, and off into the
woods with ye, for there's not the female breathing that is
worth a heavy heart for a minute, as I know from experi-
ence.  Tak' the word of one who knows the sax, and has
had two wives, that women, after all, are very much the
sort of creatures we do not imagine them to be.  Now, if
you would really mortify Mabel, here is as glorious an
occasion as any rejected lover could desire."

"The last wish I have, Lieutenant, would be to mortify
Mabel."

"Well, ye'll come to that in the end, notwithstanding;
for it's human nature to desire to give unpleasant feelings
to them that give unpleasant feelings to us.  But a better
occasion never offered to make your friends love you, than
is to be had at this very moment, and that is the certain
means of causing one's enemies to envy us."

"Quartermaster, Mabel is not my inimy; and if she was,
the last thing I could desire would be to give her an uneasy
moment."

"Ye say so, Pathfinder, ye say so, and I daresay ye think
so; but reason and nature are both against you, as ye'll
find in the end.  Ye've heard the saying 'love me, love
my dog:' well, now, that means, read backwards, 'don't
love me, don't love my dog.'  Now, listen to what is in
your power to do.  You know we occupy an exceedingly
precarious and uncertain postion here, almost in the jaws
of the lion, as it were?"

"Do you mean the Frenchers by the lion, and this island
as his jaws, Lieutenant?"

"Metaphorically only, my friend, for the French are no
lions, and this island is not a jaw -- unless, indeed, it may
prove to be, what I greatly fear may come true, the jaw-
bone of an ass."

Here the Quartermaster indulged in a sneering laugh,
that proclaimed anything but respect and admiration for
his friend Lundie's sagacity in selecting that particular
spot for his operations.

"The post is as well chosen as any I ever put foot in,"
said Pathfinder, looking around him as one surveys a pic-
ture.

"I'll no' deny it, I'll no' deny it.  Lundie is a great sol-
dier, in a small way; and his father was a great laird, with
the same qualification.  I was born on the estate, and have
followed the Major so long that I've got to reverence all
he says and does: that's just my weakness, ye'll know,
Pathfinder.  Well, this post may be the post of an ass, or
of a Solomon, as men fancy; but it's most critically placed,
as is apparent by all Lundie's precautions and injunctions.
There are savages out scouting through these Thousand
Islands and over the forest, searching for this very spot, as
is known to Lundie himself, on certain information; and
the greatest service you can render the 55th is to discover
their trails and lead them off on a false scent.  Unhappily
Sergeant Dunham has taken up the notion that the danger
is to be apprehended from up-stream, because Frontenac
lies above us; whereas all experience tells us that Indians
come on the side which is most contrary to reason, and,
consequently, are to be expected from below.  Take your
canoe, therefore, and go down-stream among the islands,
that we may have notice if any danger approaches from
that quarter."

"The Big Sarpent is on the look-out in that quarter;
and as he knows the station well, no doubt he will give us
timely notice, should any wish to sarcumvent us in that
direction."

"He is but an Indian, after all, Pathfinder; and this is
an affair that calls for the knowledge of a white man.
Lundie will be eternally grateful to the man who shall
help this little enterprise to come off with flying colors.
To tell you the truth, my friend, he is conscious it should
never have been attempted; but he has too much of the
old laird's obstinacy about him to own an error, though it
be as manifest as the morning star."

The Quartermaster then continued to reason with his
companion, in order to induce him to quit the island with-
out delay, using such arguments as first suggested them-
selves, sometimes contradicting himself, and not unfre-
quently urging at one moment a motive that at the next
was directly opposed by another.  The Pathfinder, simple
as he was, detected these flaws in the Lieutenant's philos-
ophy, though he was far from suspecting that they pro-
ceeded from a desire to clear the coast of Mabel's suitor.
He did not exactly suspect the secret objects of Muir, but
he was far from being blind to his sophistry.  The result
was that the two parted, after a long dialogue, unconvinced,
and distrustful of each other's motives, though the distrust
of the guide, like all that was connected with the man,
partook of his own upright, disinterested, and ingenuous
nature.

A conference that took place soon after between Sergeant
Dunham and the Lieutenant led to more consequences.
When it was ended, secret orders were issued to the men,
the blockhouse was taken possession of, the huts were oc-
cupied, and one accustomed to the movements of soldiers
might have detected that an expedition was in the wind.
In fact, just as the sun was setting, the Sergeant, who had
been much occupied at what was called the harbor, came
into his own hut, followed by Pathfinder and Cap; and as
he took his seat at the neat table which Mabel had pre-
pared for him, he opened the budget of his intelligence.

"You are likely to be of some use here, my child," the
old soldier commenced, "as this tidy and well-ordered
supper can testify; and I trust, when the proper moment
arrives, you will show yourself to be the descendant of
those who know how to face their enemies."

"You do not expect me, dear father, to play Joan of Arc,
and to lead the men to battle?"

"Play whom, child?  Did you ever hear of the person
Mabel mentions, Pathfinder?"

"Not I, Sergeant; but what of that?  I am ignorant
and unedicated, and it is too great a pleasure to me to
listen to her voice, and take in her words, to be particular
about persons."

"I know her," said Cap decidedly; "she sailed a priva-
teer out of Morlaix in the last war; and good cruises she
made of them."

Mabel blushed at having inadvertently made an allusion
that went beyond her father's reading, to say nothing of
her uncle's dogmatism, and, perhaps, a little at the Path-
finder's simple, ingenuous earnestness; but she did not
forbear the less to smile.

"Why, father, I am not expected to fall in with the
men, and to help defend the island?"

"And yet women have often done such things in this
quarter of the world, girl, as our friend, the Pathfinder
here, will tell you.  But lest you should be surprised at
not seeing us when you awake in the morning, it is proper
that I now tell you we intend to march in the course of
this very night."

"_We_, father! and leave me and Jennie on this island
alone?"

"No, my daughter; not qnite as unmilitary as that. We
shall leave Lieutenant Muir, brother Cap, Corporal M'Nab,
and three men to compose the garrison during our ab-
sence.  Jennie will remain with you in this hut, and
brother Cap will occupy my place."

"And Mr. Muir?" said Mabel, half unconscious of what
she uttered, though she foresaw a great deal of unpleasant
persecution in the arrangement.

"Why, he can make love to you, if you like it, girl; for
he is an amorous youth, and, having already disposed of
four wives, is impatient to show how much he honors their
memories by taking a fifth."

"The Quartermaster tells me," said Pathfinder inno-
cently, "that when a man's feelings have been harassed by
so many losses, there is no wiser way to soothe them than
by ploughing up the soil anew, in such a manner as to
leave no traces of what have gone over it before."

"Ay, that is just the difference between ploughing and
harrowing," returned the Sergeant, with a grim smile.
"But let him tell Mabel his mind, and there will be an end
of his suit.  I very well know that _my_ daughter will never
be the wife of Lieutenant Muir."

This was said in a way that was tanatmount to declaring
that no daughter of his ever _should_ become the wife of the
person in question.  Mabel had colored, trembled, half
laughed, and looked uneasy; but, rallying her spirit, she
said, in a voice so cheerful as completely to conceal her
agitation, "But, father, we might better wait until Mr.
Muir manifests a wish that your daughter would have him,
or rather a wish to have your daughter, lest we get the
fable of sour grapes thrown into our faces."

"And what is that fable, Mabel?" eagerly demanded
Pathfinder, who was anything but learned in the ordinary
lore of white men.  "Tell it to us, in your own pretty
way; I daresay the Sergeant never heard it."

Mabel repeated the well-known fable, and, as her suitor
had desired, in her own pretty way, which was a way to
keep his eyes riveted on her face, and the whole of his
honest countenance covered with a smile.

"That was like a fox!" cried Pathfinder, when she had
ceased; "ay, and like a Mingo, too, cunning and cruel;
that is the way with both the riptyles.  As to grapes, they
are sour enough in this part of the country, even to them
that can get at them, though I daresay there are seasons
and times and places where they are sourer to them that
can't.  I should judge, now, my scalp is very sour in Mingo
eyes."

"The sour grapes will be the other way, child, and it is
Mr. Muir who will make the complaint.  You would never
marry that man, Mabel?"

"Not she," put in Cap; "a fellow who is only half a
soldier after all.  The story of them there grapes is quite
a circumstance."

"I think little of marrying any one, dear father and
dear uncle, and would rather talk about it less, if you
please.  But, did I think of marrying at all, I do be-
lieve a man whose affections have already been tried by
three or four wives would scarcely be my choice."

The Sergeant nodded at the guide, as much as to say,
You see how the land lies; and then he had sufficient con-
sideration for his daughter's feelings to change the sub-
ject.

"Neither you nor Mabel, brother Cap," he resumed,
"can have any legal authority with the little garrison I
leave behind on the island; but you may counsel and in-
fluence.  Strictly speaking, Corporal M'Nab will be the
commanding officer, and I have endeavored to impress him
with a sense of his dignity, lest he might give way too
much to the superior rank of Lieutenant Muir, who, being
a volunteer, can have no right to interfere with the duty.
I wish you to sustain the Corporal, brother Cap; for
should the Quartermaster once break through the regula-
tions of the expedition, he may pretend to command me,
as well as M'Nab."

"More particularly, should Mabel really cut him adrift
while you are absent.  Of course, Sergeant, you'll leave
everything that is afloat under my care?  The most d----ble
confusion has grown out of misunderstandings between
commanders-in-chief, ashore and afloat."

"In one sense, brother, though in a general way, the
Corporal is commander-in-chief.  The Corporal must com-
mand; but you can counsel freely, particularly in all mat-
ters relating to the boats, of which I shall leave one behind
to secure your retreat, should there be occasion.  I know
the Corporal well; he is a brave man and a good soldier;
and one that may be relied on, if the Santa Cruz can be
kept from him.  But then he is a Scotchman, and will be
liable to the Quartermaster's influence, against which I de-
sire both you and Mabel to be on your guard."

"But why leave us behind, dear father?  I have come
thus far to be a comfort to you, and why not go farther?"

"You are a good girl, Mabel, and very like the Dunhams.
But you must halt here.  We shall leave the island to-
morrow, before the day dawns, in order not to be seen by
any prying eyes coming from our cover, and we shall take
the two largest boats, leaving you the other and one bark
canoe.  We are about to go into the channel used by the
French, where we shall lie in wait, perhaps a week, to in-
tercept their supply-boats, which are about to pass up on
their way to Frontenac, loaded, in particular, with a heavy
amount of Indian goods."

"Have you looked well to your papers, brother?" Cap
anxiously demanded.  "Of course you know a capture on
the high seas is piracy, unless your boat is regularly com-
missioned, either as a public or a private armed cruiser."

"I have the honor to hold the Colonel's appointment as
sergeant-major of the 55th," returned the other, drawing
himself up with dignity, "and that will be sufficient even
for the French king.  If not, I have Major Duncan's writ-
ten orders."

"No papers, then, for a warlike cruiser?"

"They must suffice, brother, as I have no other.  It is
of vast importance to his Majesty's interests, in this part
of the world, that the boats in question should be captured
and carried into Oswego.  They contain the blankets, trink-
ets, rifles, ammunition, in short, all the stores with which the
French bribe their accursed savage allies to commit their
unholy acts, setting at nought our holy religion and its
precepts, the laws of humanity, and all that is sacred and
dear among men.  By cutting off these supplies we shall
derange their plans, and gain time on them; for the arti-
cles cannot be sent across the ocean again this autumn."

"But, father, does not his Majesty employ Indians also?"
asked Mabel, with some curiosity.

"Certainly, girl, and he has a right to employ them --
God bless him!  It's a very different thing whether an Eng-
lish man or a Frenchman employs a savage, as everybody
can understand."

"But, father, I cannot see that this alters the case.  If
it be wrong in a Frenchman to hire savages to fight his
enemies, it would seem to be equally wrong in an Eng-
lishman.  _You_ will admit this, Pathfinder?"

"It's reasonable, it's reasonable; and I have never been
one of them that has raised a cry ag'in the Frenchers for
doing the very thing we do ourselves.  Still it is worse to
consort with a Mingo than to consort with a Delaware.
If any of that just tribe were left, I should think it no sin
to send them out ag'in the foe."

"And yet they scalp and slay young and old, women and
children!"

"They have their gifts, Mabel, and are not to be blamed
for following them; natur' is natur', though the different
tribes have different ways of showing it.  For my part I
am white, and endeavor to maintain white feelings."

"This is all unintelligible to me," answered Mabel.
"What is right in King George, it would seem, ought to
be right in King Louis."

As all parties, Mabel excepted, seemed satisfied with the
course the discussion had taken, no one appeared to think
it necessary to pursue the subject.  Supper was no sooner
ended than the Sergeant dismissed his guests, and then
held a long and confidential dialogue with his daughter.
He was little addicted to giving way to the gentler emo-
tions, but the novelty of his present situation awakened
feelings that he was unused to experience.  The soldier or
the sailor, so long as he acts under the immediate super-
vision of a superior, thinks little of the risks he runs, but
the moment he feels the responsibility of command, all the
hazards of his undertaking begin to associate themselves
in his mind: with the chances of success or failure.  While
he dwells less on his own personal danger, perhaps, than
when that is the principal consideration, he has more lively
general perceptions of all the risks, and submits more to
the influence of the feelings which doubt creates.  Such
was now the case with Sergeant Dunham, who, instead
of looking forward to victory as certain, according to his
usual habits, began to feel the possibility that he might
be parting with his child for ever.

Never before had Mabel struck him as so beautiful as
she appeared that night.  Possibly she never had displayed
so many engaging qualities to her father; for concern on
his account had begun to be active in her breast; and then
her sympathies met with unusual encouragement through
those which had been stirred up in the sterner bosom of
the veteran.  She had never been entirely at her ease with
her parent, the great superiority of her education creating
a sort of chasm, which had been widened by the military
severity of manner he had acquired by dealing so long
with beings who could only be kept in subjection by an
unremitted discipline.  On the present occasion, however,
the conversation between the father and daughter became
more confidential than usual, until Mabel rejoiced to fiud
that it was gradually becoming endearing, a state of feel-
ing that the warm-hearted girl had silently pined for in
vain ever since her arrival.

"Then mother was about my height?" Mabel said, as
she held one of her father's hands in both her own, looking
up into his face with humid eyes.  "I had thought her
taller."

"That is the way with most children who get a habit of
thinking of their parents with respect, until they fancy
them larger and more commanding than they actually are.
Your mother, Mabel, was as near your height as one woman
could be to another."

"And her eyes, father?"

"Her eyes were like thine, child, too; blue and soft, and
inviting like, though hardly so laughing."

"Mine will never laugh again, dearest father, if you do
not take care of yourself in this expedition."

"Thank you, Mabel -- hem -- thank you, child; but I
must do my duty.  I wish I had seen you comfortably
married before we left Oswego; my mind would be easier."

"Married! -- to whom, father?"

"You know the man I wish you to love.  You may meet
with many gayer, and many dressed in finer clother; but
with none with so true a heart and just a mind."

"None father?"

"I know of none; in these particulars Pathfinder has few
equals at least."

"But I need not marry at all.  You are single, and I
can remain to take care of you."

"God bless you, Mabel!  I know you would, and I do
not say that the feeling is not right, for I suppose it is;
and yet I believe there is another that is more so."

"What can be more right than to honor one's parents?"

"It is just as right to honor one's husband, my dear
child."

"But I have no husband, father."

"Then take one as soon as possible, that you may have
a husband to honor.  I cannot live for ever, Mabel, but
must drop off in the course of nature ere long, if I am not
carried off in the course of war.  You are young, and may
yet live long; and it is proper that you should have a male
protector, who can see you safe through life, and take care
of you in age, as you now wish to take care of me."

"And do you think, father," said Mabel, playing with
his sinewy fingers with her own little hands, and looking
down at them, as if they were subjects of intense interest,
though her lips curled in a slight smile as the words came
from them, -- "and do you think, father, that Pathfinder
is just the man to do this?  Is he not, within ten or twelve
years, as old as yourself?"

"What of that?  His life has been one of moderation
and exercise, and years are less to be counted, girl, than
constitution.  Do you know another more likely to be your
protector?"

Mabel did not; at least another who had expressed a
desire to that effect, whatever might have been her hopes
and her wishes.

"Nay, father, we are not talking of anotber, but of the
Pathfinder," she answered evasively.  "If he were younger,
I think it would be more natural for me to think of him
for a husband."

"'Tis all in the constitution, I tell you, child; Pathfinder
is a younger man than half our subalterns."

"He is certainly younger than one, sir -- Lieutenant
Muir."

Mabel's laugh was joyous and light-hearted, as if just
then she felt no care.

"That he is -- young enough to be his grandson; he is
younger in years, too.  God forbid, Mabel, that you should
ever become an officer's lady, at least until you are an
officer's daughter!"

"There will be little fear of that, father, if I marry
Pathfinder," returned the girl, looking up archly in the
Sergeant's face again.

"Not by the king's commission, perhaps, though the
man is even now the friend and companion of generals.
I think I could die happy, Mabel, if you were his wife."

"Father!"

"'Tis a sad thing to go into battle with the weight of an
unprotected daughter laid upon the heart."

"I would give the world to lighten yours of its load, my
dear sir."

"It might be done," said the Sergeant, looking fondly
at his child; "though I could not wish to put a burthen
on yours in order to do so."

The voice was deep and tremulous, and never before
had Mabel witnessed such a show of affection in her parent.
The habitual sternness of the man lent an interest to his
emotions which they might otherwise have wanted, and
the daughter's heart yearned to relieve the father's mind.

"Father, speak plainly!" she cried, almost convulsively.

"Nay, Mabel, it might not be right; your wishes and
mine may be very different."

"I have no wishes -- know nothing of what you mean.
Would you speak of my future marriage?"

"If I could see you promised to Pathfinder -- know that
you were pledged to become his wife, let my own fate be
what it might, I think I could die happy.  But I will ask
no pledge of you, my child; I will not force you to do
what you might repent.  Kiss me, Mabel, and go to your
bed."

Had Sergeant Dunham exacted of Mabel the pledge that
he really so much desired, he would have encountered a
resistance that he might have found it difficult to over-
come; but, by letting nature have its course, he enlisted a
powerful ally on his side, and the warm-hearted, generous-
minded Mabel was ready to concede to her affections much
more than she would ever have yielded to menace.  At
that touching moment she thought only of her parent,
who was about to quit her, perhaps for ever; and all of
that ardent love for him, which had possibly been as much
fed by the imagination as by anything else, but which had
received a little check by the restrained intercourse of the
last fortnight, now returned with a force that was increased
by pure and intense feeling.  Her father seemed all in all
to her, and to render him happy there was no proper sac-
rifice which she was not ready to make.  One painful, rapid,
almost wild gleam of thought shot across the brain of the
girl, and her resolution wavered; but endeavoring to trace
the foundation of the pleasing hope on which it was based,
she found nothing positive to support it.  Trained like a
woman to subdue her most ardent feelings, her thoughts
reverted to her father, and to the blessings that awaited
the child who yielded to a parent's wishes.

"Father," she said quietly, almost with a holy calm,
"God blesses the dutiful daughter."

"He will, Mabel; we have the Good Book for that."

"I will marry whomever you desire."

"Nay, nay, Mabel, you may have a choice of your
own -- "

"I have no choice; that is, none have asked me to have
a choice, but Pathfinder and Mr. Muir; and between _them_,
neither of us would hesitate.  No, father; I will marry
whomever you may choose."

"Thou knowest my choice, beloved child; none other
can make thee as happy as the noble-hearted guide."

"Well, then, if he wish it, if he ask me again -- for,
father, you would not have me offer myself, or that any
one should do that office for me," and the blood stole across
the pallid cheeks of Mabel as she spoke, for high and gen-
erous resolutions had driven back the stream of life to her
heart; "no one must speak to him of it; but if he seek
me again, and, knowing all that a true girl ought to tell
the man she marries, he then wishes to make me his wife,
I will be his."

"Bless you, my Mabel!  God in heaven bless you, and re-
ward you as a pious daughter deserves to be rewarded!"

"Yes, father, put your mind at peace; go on this expe-
dition with a light heart, and trust in God.  For me you
will have now no care.  In the spring -- I must have a lit-
tle time, father -- but in the spring I will marry Pathfinder,
if that noble-hearted hunter shall then desire it."

"Mabel, he loves you as I loved your mother.  I have
seen him weep like a child when speaking of his feelings
towards you."

"Yes, I believe it; I've seen enough to satisfy me that
he thinks better of me than I deserve; and certainly the
man is not living for whom I have more respect than for
Pathfinder; not even for you, dear father."

"That is as it should be, child, and the union will be
blessed.  May I not tell Pathfinder this?"

"I would rather you would not, father.  Let it come of
itself, come naturally."  The smile that illuminated Mabel's
handsome face was angelic, as even her parent thought,
though one better practised in detecting the passing emo-
tions, as they betray themselves in the countenance, might
have traced something wild and unnatural in it.  "No, no,
_we_ must let things take their course; father, you have my
solemn promise."

"That will do, that will do, Mabel, now kiss me.  God
bless and protect you, girl! you are a good daughter."

Mabel threw herself into her father's arms -- it was the
first time in her life -- and sobbed on his bosom like an in-
fant.  The stern soldier's heart was melted, and the tears
of the two mingled; but Sergeant Dunham soon started, as
if ashamed of himself, and, gently forcing his daughter from
him, he bade her good-night, and sought his pallet.  Mabel
went sobbing to the rude corner that had been prepared
for her reception; and in a few minutes the hut was un-
disturbed by any sound, save the heavy breathing of the
veteran.



CHAPTER XX.

Wandering, I found on my ruinous walk,
  By the dial stone, aged and green,
One rose of the wilderness, left on its stalk,
  To mark where a garden had been.
CAMPBELL.


It was not only broad daylight when Mabel awoke, but
the sun had actually been up some time.  Her sleep had
beeu tranquil, for she rested on an approving conscience,
and fatigue contributed to render it sweet; and no sound
of those who had been so early in motion had interfered
with her rest.  Springing to her feet and rapidly dressing
herself, the girl was soon breathing the fragrance of the
morning in the open air.  For the first time she was sen-
sibly struck with the singular beauties, as well as with the
profound retirement, of her present situation.  The day
proved to be one of those of the autumnal glory, so com-
mon to a climate that is more abused than appreciated,
and its influence was every way inspiriting and genial.
Mabel was benefitted by this circumstance; for, as she
fancied, her heart was heavy on account of the dangers to
which a father, whom she now began to love as women love
when confidence is created, was exposed.

But the island seemed absolutely deserted.  The previ-
ous night, the bustle of the arrival had given the spot an
appearance of life which was now entirely gone; and our
heroine had turned her eyes nearly around on every object
in sight, before she caught a view of a single human being
to remove the sense of utter solitude.  Then, indeed, she
beheld all who were left behind, collected in a group
around a fire which might be said to belong to the camp.
The person of her uncle, to whom she was so much accus-
tomed, reassured Mabel; and she examined the remainder
with a curiosity natural to her situation.  Besides Cap and
the Quartermaster, there were the Corporal, the three sol-
diers, and the woman who was cooking.  The huts were
silent and empty; and the low but tower-like summit of
the blockhouse rose above the bushes, by which it was half
concealed, in picturesque beauty.  The sun was just cast-
ing its brightness into the open places of the glade, and
the vault over her head was impending in the soft sub-
limity of the blue void.  Not a cloud was visible, and she
secretly fancied the circumstance might be taken as a har-
binger of peace and security.

Perceiving that all the others were occupied with that
great concern of human nature, a breakfast, Mabel walked,
unobserved, towards an end of the island where she was
completely shut out of view by the trees and bushes.  Here
she got a stand on the very edge of the water, by forcing
aside the low branches, and stood watching the barely
perceptible flow and re-flow of the miniature waves which
laved the shore; a sort of physical echo to the agitation
that prevailed on the lake fifty miles above her.  The
glimpses of natural scenery that offered were very soft and
pleasing; and our heroine, who had a quick eye for all
that was lovely in nature, was not slow in selecting the
most striking bits of landscape.  She gazed through the
different vistas formed by the openings between the
islands, and thought she had never looked on aught more
lovely.

While thus occupied, Mabel was suddenly alarmed by
fancying that she caught a glimpse of a human form among
the bushes that lined the shore of the island which lay
directly before her.  The distance across the water was
not a hundred yards; and, though she might be mistaken,
and her fancy was wandering when the form passed be-
fore her sight, still she did not think she could be deceived.
Aware that her sex would be no protection against a rifle
bullet, should an Iroquois get a view of her, the girl in-
stinctively drew back, taking care to conceal person as
much as possible by the leaves, while she kept her own look
riveted on the opposite shore, vainly waiting for some
time in the expectation of the stranger.  She was about
to quit her post in the bushes and hasten to her uncle, in
order to acquaint him of her suspicions, when she saw the
branch of an alder thrust beyond the fringe of bushes on
the other island, and waved towards her significantly, and
as she fancied in token of amity.  This was a breathless
and a trying moment to one as inexperienced in frontier
warfare as our heroine and yet she felt the great necessity
that existed for preserving her recollection, and of acting
with steadiness and discretion.

It was one of the peculiarities of the exposure to which
those who dwelt on the frontiers of America were liable,
to bring out the moral qualities of the women to a degree
which they must themselves, under other circumstances,
have believed they were incapable of manifesting; and
Mabel well knew that the borderers loved to dwell in their
legends on the presence of mind, fortitude, and spirit that
their wives and sisters had displayed under circumstances
the most trying.  Her emulation had been awakened by
what she had heard on such subjects; and it at once struck
her that now was the moment for her to show that she
was truly Sergeant Dunham's child.  The motion of the
branch was such as she believed indicated amity; and,
after a moment's hesitation, she broke off a twig, fastened
it to a stick and, thrusting it through an opening, waved
it in return, imitating as closely as possible the manner of
the other.

This dumb show lasted two or three minutes on both
sides, when Mabel perceived that the bushes opposite were
cautiously pushid aside, and a human face appeared at an
opening.  A glance sufficed to let Mabel see that it was the
countenance of a red-skin, as well as that of a woman.  A
second and a better look satisfied her that it was the face
of the Dew-of-June, the wife of Arrowhead.  During the
time she had travelled in company with this woman,
Mabel had been won by the gentleness of manner, the
meek simplicity, and the mingled awe and affection with
which she regarded her husband.  Once or twice in the
course of the journey she fancied the Tuscarora had mani-
fested towards herself an unpleasant degree of attention;
and on those occoasions it had struck her that his wife
exhibited sorrow and mortification.  As Mabel, however,
had more than compensated for any pain she might in
this way unintentionally have caused her companion, by
her own kindness of manner and attentions, the woman
had shown much attachment to her, and they had parted,
with a deep conviction on the mind of our heroine that in
the Dew-of-June she had lost a friend.

It is useless to attempt to analyze all the ways by which
the human heart is led into confidence.  Such a feeling,
however, had the young Tuscarora woman awakened in
the breast of our heroine; and the latter, under the im-
pression that this extraordinary visit was intended for her
own good, felt every disposition to have a closer commu-
nication.  She no longer hesitated about showing herself
clear of the bushes, and was not sorry to see the Dew-of-
June imitate her confidence, by stepping fearlessly out of
her own cover.  The two girls, for the Tuscarora, though
married, was even younger than Mabel, now openly ex-
changed signs of friendship, and the latter beckoned to
her friend to approach, though she knew not the manner
herself in which this object could be effected.  But the
Dew-of-June was not slow in letting it be seen that it was
in her power; for, disappearing in a moment, she soon
showed herself again in the end of a bark canoe, the bows
of which she had drawn to the edge of the bushes, and of
which the body still lay in a sort of covered creek.  Mabel
was about to invite her to cross, when her own name was
called aloud in the stentorian voice of her uncle.  Making
a hurried gesture for the Tuscarora girl to conceal herself,
Mabel sprang from the bushes and tripped up the glade
towards the sound, and perceived that the whole party had
just seated themselves at breakfast; Cap having barely put
his appetite under sufficient restraint to summon her to
join them.  That this was the most favorable instant for
the interview flashed on the mind of Mabel; and, excusing
herself on the plea of not being prepared for the meal,
she bounded back to the thicket, and soon renewed her
communications with the young Indian woman.

Dew-of-June was quick of comprehension; and with
half a dozen noiseless strokes of the paddles, her canoe was
concealed in the bushes of Station Island.  In another
minute, Mabel held her hand, and was leading her through
the grove towards her own hut.  Fortunately the latter
was so placed as to be completely hid from the sight of
those at the fire, and they both entered it unseen.  Hastily
explaining to her guest, in the best manner she could, the
necessity of quitting her for a short time, Mabel, first plac-
ing the Dew-of-June in her own room, with a full certainty
that she would not quit it until told to do so, went to the
fire and took her seat among the rest, with all the com-
posure it was in her power to command.

"Late come, late served, Mabel," said her uncle, be-
tween mouthfuls of broiled salmon; for though the cook-
ery might be very unsophisticated on that remote frontier,
the viands were generally delicious, -- "late come, late
served; it is a good rule, and keeps laggards up to their
work."

"I am no laggard, uncle; for I have been stirring nearly
an hour, and exploring our island."

"It's little you'll make o' that, Mistress Mabel," put in
Muir; "that's little by nature.  Lundie -- or it might be
better to style him Major Duncan in this presence" (this
was said in consideration of the corporal and the common
men, though they were taking their meal a little apart) --
"has not added an empire to his Majesty's dominions in
getting possession of this island, which is likely to equal
that of the celebrated Sancho in revenues and profits --
Sancho, of whom, doubtless, Master Cap, you'll often have
been reading in your leisure hours, more especially in
calms and moments of inactivity."

"I know the spot you mean, Quartermaster; Sancho's
Island -- coral rock, of new formation, and as bad a land-
fall, in a dark night and blowing weather, as a sinner
could wish to keep clear of.  It's a famous place for cocoa-
nuts and bitter water, that Sancho's Island."

"It's no' very famous for dinners," returned Muir, re-
pressing the smile which was struggling to his lips out of
respect to Mabel; "nor do I think there'll be much to
choose between its revenue and that of this spot.  In my
judgment, Master Cap, this is a very unmilitary position,
and I look to some calamity befalling it, sooner or later."

"It is to be hoped not until our turn of duty is over,"
observed Mabel.  "I have no wish to study the French
language."

"We might think ourselves happy, did it not prove to
be the Iroquois.  I have reasoned with Major Duncan on
the occupation of this position, but 'a wilfu' man maun
ha' his way.'  My first object in accompanying this party
was to endeavor to make myself acceptable and useful to
your beautiful niece, Master Cap; and the second was to
take such an account of the stores that belong to my par-
ticular department as shall leave no question open to con-
troversy, concerning the manner of expenditure, when they
shall have disappeared by means of the enemy."

"Do you look upon matters as so serious?" demanded
Cap, actually suspending his mastication of a bit of veni-
son -- for he passed alternately from fish to flesh and back
again -- in the interest he took in the answer.  "Is the
danger pressing?"

"I'll no' say just that; and I'll no' say just the contrary.
There is always danger in war, and there is more of it
at the advanced posts than at the main encampment.  It
ought, therefore, to occasion no surprise were we to be
visited by the French at any moment."

"And what the devil is to be done in that case?  Six
men and two women would make but a poor job in defend-
ing such a place as this, should the enemy invade us; as,
no doubt, Frenchman-like, they would take very good care
to come strong-handed."

"That we may depend on -- some very formidable force
at the very lowest.  A military disposition might be made
in defence of the island, out of all question, and accord-
ing to the art of war, though we would probably fail in
the force necessary to carry out the design in any very
creditable manner.  In the first place, a detachment should
be sent off to the shore, with orders to annoy the enemy
in landing; a strong party ought instantly to be thrown
into the blockhouse, as the citadel, for on that all the dif-
ferent detachments would naturally fall back for support,
as the French advanced; and an entrenched camp might
be laid out around the stronghold, as it would be very un-
military indeed to let the foe get near enough to the foot
of the walls to mine them.  Chevaux-de-frise would keep
the cavalry in check; and as for the artillery, redoubts
should be thrown up under cover of yon woods.  Strong
skirmishing parties, moreover, would be exceedingly ser-
viceable in retarding the march of the enemy; and these
different huts, if properly piqueted and ditched, would be
converted into very eligible positions for that object."

"Whe-e-e-w-, Quartermaster!  And who the d---l
is to find all the men to carry out such a plan?"

"The king, out of all question, Master Cap.  It is his
quarrel, and it's just he should bear the burthen o' it."

"And we are only six!  This is fine talking, with a
vengeance.  You could be sent down to the shore to op-
pose the landing, Mabel might skirmish with her tongue
at least, the soldier's wife might act chevaux-de-frise to
entangle the cavalry, the corporal should command the
entrenched camp, his three men could occupy the five
huts, and I would take the blockhouse.  Whe-e-e-w!
you describe well, Lieutenant; and should have been a
limner instead of a soldier."

"Na, I've been very literal and upright in my exposition
of matters.  That there is no greater force here to carry
out the plan is a fault of his Majesty's ministers, and none
of mine."

"But should our enemy really appear," asked Mabel,
with more interest than she might have shown, had she
not remembered the guest in the hut, "what course ought
we to pursue?"

"My advice would be to attempt to achieve that, pretty
Mabel, which rendered Xenophon so justly celebrated."

"I think you mean a retreat, though I half guess at your
allusion."

"You've imagined my meaning from the possession of
a strong native sense, young lady.  I am aware that your
worthy father has pointed out to the Corporal certain
modes and methods by which he fancies this island could
be held, in case the French should discover its position;
but the excellent Sergeant, though your father, and as good
a man in his duties as ever wielded a spontoon, is not the
great Lord Stair, or even the Duke of Marlborough.  I'll
not deny the Sergeant's merits in his particular sphere;
though I cannot exaggerate qualities, however excellent,
into those of men who may be in some trifling degree his
superiors.  Sergeant Dunham has taken counsel of his
heart, instead of his head, in resolving to issue such orders;
but, if the fort fall, the blame will lie on him that ordered
it to be occupied, and not on him whose duty it was to
defend it.  Whatever may be the determination of the
latter, should the French and their allies land, a good
commander never neglects the preparations necessary to
effect a retreat; and I would advise Master Cap, who is
the admiral of our navy, to have a boat in readiness to
evacuate the island, if need comes to need.  The largest
boat that we have left carries a very ample sail; and by
hauling it round here, and mooring it under those bushes,
there will be a convenient place for a hurried embarka-
tion; and then you'll perceive, pretty Mabel, that it is
scarcely fifty yards before we shall be in a channel between
two other islands, and hid from the sight of those who
may happen to be on this."

"All that you say is very true, Mr. Muir; but may not
the French come from that quarter themselves?  If it is
so good for a retreat, it is equally good for an advance."

"They'll no' have the sense to do so discreet a thing,"
returned Muir, looking furtively and a little uneasily
around him; "they'll no' have sufficient discretion.  Your
French are a head-over-heels nation, and usually come
forward in a random way; so we may look for them, if
they come at all, on the other side of the island."

The discourse now became exceedingly desultory, touch-
ing principally, however, on the probabilities of an inva-
sion, and the best means of meeting it.

To most of this Mabel paid but little attention; though
she felt some surprise that Lieutenant Muir, an officer
whose character for courage stood well, should openly
recommend an abandonment of what appeared to her to
be doubly a duty, her father's character being connected
with the defence of the island.  Her mind, however, was
so much occupied with her guest, that, seizing the first
favorable moment, she left the table, and was soon in her
own hut again.  Carefully fastening the door, and seeing
that the simple curtain was drawn before the single little
window, Mabel next led the Dew-of-June, or June, as she
was familiarly termed by those who spoke to her in Eng-
lish, into the outer room, making signs of affection and
confidence.

"I am glad to see you, June," said Mabel, with one of
her sweetest smiles, and in her own winning voice, -- "very
glad to see you.  What has brought you hither, and how
did you discover the island?"

"Speak slow," said June, returning smile for smile, and
pressing the little hand she held with one of her own that
was scarcely larger, though it had been hardened by labor;
"more slow -- too quick."

Mabel repeated her questions, endeavoring to repress the
impetuosity of her feelings; and she succeeded in speak-
ing so distinctly as to be understood.

"June, friend," returned the Indian woman.

"I believe you, June -- from my soul I believe you; what
has this to do with your visit?"

"Friend come to see friend," answered June, again
smiling openly in the other's face.

"There is some other reason, June, else would you never
run this risk, and alone.  You are alone, June?"

"June wid you, no one else.  June come alone, paddle
canoe."

"I hope so, I think so -- nay, I know so.  You would not
be treacherous with me, June?"

"What treacherous?"

"You would not betray me, would not give me to the
French, to the Iroquois, to Arrowhead?"

June shook her head earnestly.

"You would not sell my scalp?"

Here June passed her arm fondly around the slender
waist of Mabel and pressed her to her heart with a tender-
ness and affection that brought tears into the eyes of our
heroine.  It was done in the fond caressing manner of a
woman, and it was scarcely possible that it should not ob-
tain credit for sincerity with a young and ingenuous per-
son of the same sex.  Mabel returned the pressure, and
then held the other off at the length of her arm, looked
her steadily in the face, and continued her inquiries.

"If June has something to tell her friend, let her speak
plainly," she said.  "My ears are open."

"June 'fraid Arrowhead kill her."

"But Arrowhead will never know it."  Mabel's blood
mounted to her temples as she said this; for she felt that
she was urging a wife to be treacherous to her husband.
"That is, Mabel will not tell him."

"He bury tomahawk in June's head."

"That must never be, dear June; I would rather you
should say no more than run this risk."

"Blockhouse good place to sleep, good place to stay."

"Do you mean that I may save my life by keeping in the
blockhouse, June?  Surely, surely, Arrowhead will not
hurt you for telling me that.  He cannot wish me any
great harm, for I never injured him."

"Arrowhead wish no harm to handsome pale-face," re-
turned June, averting her face; and, though she always
spoke ih the soft, gentle voice of an Indian girl, now per-
mitting its notes to fall so low as to cause them to sound
melancholy and timid.  "Arrowhead love pale-face girl."

Mabel blushed, she knew not why, and for a moment
her questions were repressed by a feeling of inherent deli-
cacy.  But it was necessary to know more, for her appre-
hensions had been keenly awakened, and she resumed her
inquiries.

"Arrowhead can have no reason to love or to hate _me_,"
she said.  "Is he near you?"

"Husband always near wife, here," said June, laying her
hand on her heart.

"Excellent creature!  But tell me, June, ought I to
keep in the blockhouse to-day -- this morning -- now?"

"Blockhouse very good; good for women.  Blockhouse
got no scalp."

"I fear I understand you only too well, June.  Do you
wish to see my father?"

"No here; gone away."

"You cannot know that, June; you see the island is full
of his soldiers."

"No full; gone away," -- here June held up four of her
fingers, -- "so many red-coats."

"And Pathfinder? would you not like to see the Path-
finder?  He can talk to you in the Iroquois tongue."

"Tongue gone wid him," said June, laughing; "keep
tongue in his mout'."

There was something so sweet and contagious in the in-
fantine laugh of an Indian girl, that Mabel could not re-
frain from joining in it, much as her fears were aroused
by all that had passed.

"You appear to know, or to think you know, all about
us, June.  But if Pathfinder be gone, Eau-douce can speak
French too.  You know Eau-douce; shall I run and bring
him to talk with you?"

"Eau-douce gone too, all but heart; that there."  As
June said this, she laughed again; looked in different di-
rections, as if unwilling to confuse the other, and laid her
hand on Mabel's bosom.

Our heroine had often heard of the wonderful sagacity
of the Indians, and of the surprising manner in which
they noted all things, while they appeared to regard none;
but she was scarcely prepared for the direction the dis-
course had so singularly taken.  Willing to change it, and
at the same time truly anxious to learn how great the
danger that impended over them might really be, she rose
from the camp-stool on which she had been seated; and,
by assuming an attitude of less affectionate confidence,
she hoped to hear more of that she really desired to learn,
and to avoid allusions to that which she found so embar-
rassing.

"You know how much or how little you ought to tell
me, June," she said; "and I hope you love me well enough
to give me the information I ought to hear.  My dear
uncle, too, is on the island, and you are, or ought to be, his
friend as well as mine; and both of us will remember your
conduct when we get back to Oswego."

"Maybe, never get back; who know?"  This was said
doubtingly, or as one who lays down an uncertain propo-
sition, and not with a taunt, or a desire to alarm.

"No one knows what will happen but God.  Our lives
are in His hands.  Still, I think you are to be His instru-
ment in saving us."

This passed June's comprehension, and she only looked
her ignorance; for it was evident she wished to be of use.

"Blockhouse very good," she repeated, as soon as her
countenance ceased to express uncertainty, laying strong
emphasis on the last two words.

"Well, I understand this, June, and will sleep in it to-
night.  Of course I am to tell my uncle what you have
said?"

The Dew-of-June started, and she discovered a very
manifest uneasiness at the interrogatory.

"No, no, no, no!" she answered, with a volubility and
vehemence that was imitated from the French of the Can-
adas; "no good to tell Saltwater.  He much talk and long
tongue.  Thinks woods all water, understand not'ing.
Tell Arrowhead, and June die."

"You do my dear uncle injustice, for he would be as
little likely to betray you as any one."

"No understand.  Saltwater got tongue, but no eyes, no
ears, no nose -- not'ing but tongue, tongue, tongue!"

Although Mabel did not exactly coincide in this opinion,
she saw that Cap had not the confidence of the young In-
dian woman, and that it was idle to expect she would con-
sent to his being admitted to their interview.

"You appear to think you know our situation pretty
well, June," Mabel continued; "have you been on the
island before this visit?"

"Just come."

"How then do you know that what you say is true?
my father, the Pathfinder, and Eau-douce may all be here
within sound of my voice, if I choose to call them."

"All gone," said June positively, smiling good-humoredly
at the same time.

"Nay, this is more than you can say certainly, not hav-
ing been over the island to examine it."

"Got good eyes; see boat with men go away -- see ship
with Eau-douce."

"Then you have been some time watching us: I think,
however, you have not counted them that remain."

June laughed, held up her four fingers again, and then
pointed to her two thumbs; passing a finger over the first,
she repeated the words "red-coats;" and touching the last,
she added, "Saltwater," "Quartermaster."  All this was
being very accurate, and Mabel began to entertain serious
doubts as to the propriety of her permitting her visitor to
depart without her becoming more explicit.  Still it was
so repugnant to her feelings to abuse the confidence this
gentle and affectionate creature had evidently reposed in
her, that Mabel had no sooner admitted the thought of
summoning her uncle, than she rejected it as unworthy of
herself and unjust to her friend.  To aid this good reso-
lution, too, there was the certainty that June would reveal
nothing, but take refuge in a stubborn silence, if any at-
tempt were made to coerce her.

"You think, then, June," Mabel continued, as soon as
these thoughts had passed through her mind, "that I had
better live in the blockhouse?"

"Good place for woman.  Blockhouse got no scalp.
Logs t'ick."

"You speak confidently, June; as if you had been in it,
and had measured its walls."

June laughed; and she looked knowing, though she
said nothing.

"Does any one but yourself know how to find this
island? have any of the Iroquois seen it?"

June looked sad, and she cast her eyes warily about her,
as if distrusting a listener.

"Tuscarora, everywhere -- Oswego, here, Frontenac, Mo-
hawk -- everywhere.  If he see June, kill her."

"But we thought that no one knew of this island, and
that we had no reason to fear our encmies while on it."

"Much eye, Iroquois."

"Eyes will not always do, June,  This spot is hid from
ordinary sight, and few of even our own people know how
to find it."

"One man can tell; some Yengeese talk French."

Mabel felt a chill at her heart.  All the suspicions against
Jasper, which she had hitherto disdained entertaining,
crowded in a body on her thoughts; and the sensation that
they brought was so sickening, that for an instant she im-
agined she was about to faint.  Arousing herself, and re-
membering her promise to her father, she arose and walked
up and down the hut for a minute, fancying that Jasper's
delinquencies were naught to her, though her inmost heart
yearned with the desire to think him innocent.

"I understand your meaning, June," she then said;
"you wish me to know that some one has treacherousy
told your people where and how to find the island?"

June laughed, for in her eyes artifice in war was oftener
a merit than a crime; but she was too true to her tribe
herself to say more than the occasion required.  Her object
was to save Mabel, and Mabel only; and she saw no suffi-
cient reason for "travelling out of the record," as the law
yers express it, in order to do anything else.

"Pale-face know now," she added.  "Blockhouse good
for girl, no matter for men and warriors."

"But it is much matter with me, June; for one of those
men is my uncle, whom I love, and the others are my
countrymen and friends.  I must tell them what has
passed."

"Then June be kill," returned the young Indian quietly,
though she evidently spoke with concern.

"No; they shall not know that you have been here.
Still, they must be on their guard, and we can all go into
the blockhouse."

"Arrowhead know, see everything, and June be kill.
June come to tell young pale-face friend, not to tell men.
Every warrior watch his own scalp.  June woman, and
tell woman; no tell men."

Mabel was greatly distressed at this declaration of her
wild friend, for it was now evident the young creature
understood that her communication was to go no further.
She was ignorant how far these people consider the point
of honor interested in her keeping the secret; and most
of all was she unable to say how far any indiscretion of her
own might actually commit June and endanger her life.
All these considerations flashed on her mind, and reflection
only rendered their influence more painful.  June, too,
manifestly viewed the matter gravely; for she began to
gather up the different little articles she had dropped in
taking Mabel's hand, and was preparing to depart.  To
attempt detaining her was out of the question; and to part
from her, after all she had hazarded to serve her, was re-
pugnant to all the just and kind feelings of our heroine's
nature.

"June," said she eagerly, folding her arms round the
gentle but uneducated being, "we are friends.  From me
you have nothing to fear, for no one shall know of your
visit.  If you could give me some signal just before the
danger comes, some sign by which to know when to go
into the blockhouse, how to take care of myself."

June paused, for she had been in earnest in her intention
to depart; and then she said quietly, "Bring June pigeon."

"A pigeon!  Where shall I find a pigeon to bring you?"

"Next hut; bring old one; June go to canoe."

"I think I understand you, June; but had I not better
lead you back to the bushes, lest you meet some of the
men?"

"Go out first; count men, one, two, t'ree, four, five, six"
- here June held up her fingers, and laughed -- "all out of
the way -- good; all but one, call him one side.  Then sing,
and fetch pigeon."

Mabel smiled at the readiness and ingenuity of the girl,
and prepared to execute her requests.  At the door, how-
ever, she stopped, and looked back entreatingly at the In-
dian woman.  "Is there no hope of your telling me more,
June?" she said.

"Know all now, blockhouse good, pigeon tell, Arrow-
head kill."

The last words sufficed; for Mabel could not urge further
communications, when her companion herself told her that
the penalty of her revelations might be death by the hand
of her husband.  Throwing open the door, she made a sign
of adieu to June, and went out of the hut.  Mabel resorted
to the simple expedient of the young Indian girl to ascer-
tain the situation of the different individuals on the island.
Instead of looking about her with the intention of recog-
nizing faces and dresses, she merely counted them; and
found that three still remained at the fire, while two had
gone to the boat, one of whom was Mr. Muir.  The sixth
man was her uncle; and he was coolly arranging some fish-
ing-tackle at no great distance from the fire.  The woman
was just entering her own hut; and this accounted for the
whole party.  Mabel now, affecting to have dropped some-
thing, returned nearly to the hut she had left, warbling an
air, stooped as if to pick up some object from the ground,
and hurried towards the hut June had mentioned.  This
was a dilapidated structure, and it had been converted by
the soldiers of the last detachment into a sort of store-
house for their live stock.  Among other things, it con-
tained a few dozen pigeons, which were regaling on a pile
of wheat that had been brought off from one of the farms
plundered on the Canada shore.  Mabel had not much
difficulty in catching one of these pigeons, although they
fluttered and flew about the hut with a noise like that of
drums; and, concealing it in her dress, she stole back
towards her own hut with the prize.  It was empty; and,
without doing more than cast a glance in at the door, the
eager girl hurried down to the shore.  She had no diffi-
culty in escaping observation, for the trees and bushes made
a complete cover to her person.  At the canoe she found
June, who took the pigeon, placed it in a basket of her
own manufacturing, and, repeating the words, "blockhouse
good," she glided out of the bushes and across the narrow
passage, as noiselessly as she had come.  Mabel waited some
time to catch a signal of leave-taking or amity after her
friend had landed, but none was given.  The adjacent
islands, without exception, were as quiet as if no one had
ever disturbed the sublime repose of nature, and nowhere
could any sign or symptom be discovered, as Mabel then
thought, that might denote the proximity of the sort of
danger of which June had given notice.

On returning, however, from the shore, Mabel was struck
with a little circumstance, that, in an ordinary situation,
would have attracted no attention, but which, now that
her suspicions had been aroused, did not pass before her
uneasy eye unnoticed.  A small piece of red bunting, such
as is used in the ensigns of ships, was fluttering at the
lower branch of a small tree, fastened in a way to permit
it to blow out, or to droop like a vessel's pennant.

Now that Mabel's fears were awakened, June herself
could not have manifested greater quickness in analyzing
facts that she believed might affect the safety of the party.
She saw at a glance that this bit of cloth could be ob-
served from an adjacent island; that it lay so near the line
between her own hut and the canoe as to leave no doubt
that June had passed near it, if not directly under it; and
that it might be a signal to communicate some important
fact connected with the mode of attack to those who were
probably lying in ambush near them.  Tearing the little
strip of bunting from the tree, Mabel hastened on, scarcely
knowing what her duty next required of her.  June might
be false to her, but her manner, her looks, her affection,
and her disposition as Mabel had known it in the journey,
forbade the idea.  Then came the allusion to Arrowhead's
admiration of the pale-face beauties, some dim recollections
of the looks of the Tuscarora, and a painful consciousness
that few wives could view with kindness one who had es-
tranged a husband's affections.  None of these images were
distinct and clear, but they rather gleamed over the mind
of our heroine than rested in it, and they quickened her
pulses, as they did her step, without bringing with them the
prompt and clear decisions that usually followed her reflec-
tions.  She had hurried onwards towards the hut occupied
by the soldier's wife, intending to remove at once to the
blockhouse with the woman, though she could persuade
no other to follow, when her impatient walk was interrupted
by the voice of Muir.

"Whither so fast, pretty Mabel?" he cried; "and why
so given to solitude?  The worthy Sergeant will deride my
breeding, if he hear that his daughter passes the morn-
ings alone and unattended to, though he well knows it is
my ardent wish to be her slave and companion from the
beginning of the year to its end."

"Surely, Mr. Muir, you must have some authority here?"
Mabel suddenly arrested her steps to say.  "One of your
rank would be listened to, at least, by a corporal?"

"I don't know that, I don't know that," interrupted
Muir, with an impatience and appearance of alarm that
might have excited Mabel's attention at another moment.
"Command is command; discipline, discipline; and au-
thority, authority.  Your good father would be sore grieved
did he find me interfering to sully or carry off the laurels
he is about to win; and I cannot command the Corporal
without equally commanding the Sergeant.  The wisest
way will be for me to remain in the obscurity of a private
individual in this enterprise; and it is so that all parties,
from Lundie down, understand the transaction."

"This I know, and it may be well, nor would I give my
dear father any cause of complaint; but you may influence
the Corporal to his own good."

"I'll no' say that," returned Muir in his sly Scotch way;
"it would be far safer to promise to influence him to his
injury.  Mankind, pretty Mabel, have their peculiarities;
and to influence a fellow-being to his own good is one of
the most difficult tasks of human nature, while the oppo-
site is just the easiest.  You'll no' forget this, my dear,
but bear it in mind for your edification and government.
But what is that you're twisting round your slender finger
as you may be said to twist hearts?"

"It is nothing but a bit of cloth -- a sort of flag -- a trifle
that is hardly worth our attention at this grave moment.
If -- "

"A trifle!  It's no' so trifling as ye may imagine, Mis-
tress Mabel," taking the bit of bunting from her, and
stretching it at full length with both his arms extended,
while his face grew grave and his eye watchful.  "Ye'll no'
ha' been finding this, Mabel Dunham, in the breakfast?"

Mabel simply acquainted him with the spot where and
the manner in which she had found the bit of cloth.
While she was speaking, the eye of the Quartermaster was
not quiet for a moment, glancing from the rag to the face
of our heroine, then back again to the rag.  That his sus-
picions were awakened was easy to be seen, nor was he long
in letting it be known what direction they had taken.

"We are not in a part of the world where our ensigns
and gauds ought to be spread abroad to the wind, Mabel
Dunham!" he said, with an ominous shake of the head.

"I thought as much myself, Mr. Muir, and brought away
the little flag lest it might be the means of betraying our
presence here to the enemy, even though nothing is in-
tended by its display.  Ought not my uncle to be made
acquainted with the circumstance?"

"I no' see the necessity for that, pretty Mabel; for, as
you justly say, it is a circumstance, and circumstances
sometimes worry the worthy mariner.  But this flag, if flag
it can be called, belongs to a seaman's craft.  You may
perceive that it is made of what is called bunting, and that
is a description of cloth used only by vessels for such pur-
poses, _our_ colors being of silk, as you may understand, or
painted canvas.  It's surprisingly like the fly of the _Scud's_
ensign.  And now I recollect me to have observed that a
piece had been cut from that very flag."

Mabel felt her heart sink, but she had sufficient self-
command not to attempt an answer.

"It must be looked to," Muir continued, "and, after all,
I think it may be well to hold a short consultation with
Master Cap, than whom a more loyal subject does not ex-
ist in the British empire."

"I have thought the warning so serious," Mabel rejoined,
"that I am about to remove to the blockhouse, and to take
the woman with me."

"I do not see the prudence of that, Mabel.  The block-
house will be the first spot assailed should there really be
an attack; and it's no' well provided for a siege, that must
be allowed.  If I might advise in so delicate a contin-
gency, I would recommend your taking refuge in the boat,
which, as you may now perceive, is most favorably placed
to retreat by that channel opposite, where all in it would
be hid by the islands in one or two minutes.  Water leaves
no trail, as Pathfinder well expresses it; and there appears
to be so many different passages in that quarter that escape
would be more than probable.  I've always been of opin-
ion that Lundie hazarded too much in occupying a post so
far advanced and so much exposed as this."

"It's too late to regret it now, Mr. Muir, and we have
only to consult our own security."

"And the king's honor, pretty Mabel.  Yes, his Majesty's
arms and his glorious name are not to be overlooked on
any occasion."

"Then I think it might be better if we all turned our
eyes towards the place that has been built to maintain
them instead of the boat," said Mabel, smiling; "and so,
Mr. Muir, I am for the blockhouse, intending to await
there the return of my father and his party.  He would be
sadly grieved at finding we had fled when he got back suc-
cessful himself, and filled with the confidence of our having
been as faithful to our duties as he has been to his own."

"Nay, nay, for heaven's sake, do not misunderstand me,
Mabel!" Muir interrupted, with some alarm of manner;
"I am far from intimating that any but you females ought
to take refuge in the boat.  The duty of us men is suffi-
ciently plain, no doubt, and my resolution has been formed
from the first to stand or fall by the blockhouse."

"And did you imagine, Mr. Muir, that two females could
row that heavy boat in a way to escape the bark canoe of
an Indian?"

"Ah, my pretty Mabel, love is seldom logical, and its
fears and misgivings are apt to warp the faculties.  I only
saw your sweet person in the possession of the means of
safety, and overlooked the want of ability to use them;
but you'll not be so cruel, lovely creature, as to impute to
me as a fault my intense anxiety on your own account."

Mabel had heard enough: her mind was too much oc-
cupied with what had passed that morning, and with her
fears, to wish to linger longer to listen to love speeches,
which in her most joyous and buoyant moments she would
have found unpleasant.  She took a hasty leave of her
companion, and was about to trip away towards the hilt of
the other woman, when Muir arrested the movement by
laying a hand on her arm.

"One word, Mabel," said he, "before you leave me.  This
little flag may, or it may not, have a particular meaning;
if it has, now that we are aware of its being shown, may it
not be better to put it back again, while we watch vigilantly
for some answer that may betray the conspiracy; and if it
mean nothing, why, nothing will follow."

"This may be all right, Mr. Muir, though, if the whole
is accidental, the flag might be the occasion of the fort's
being discovered.

Mabel stayed to utter no more; but she was soon out of
sight, running into the hut towards which she had been first
proceeding.  The Quartermaster remained on the very spot
and in the precise attitude in which she had left him for
quite a minute, first looking at the bounding figure of the
girl and then at the bit of bunting, which he still held be-
fore him in a way to denote indecision.  His irresolution
lasted but for this minute, however; for he was soon be-
neath the tree, where he fastened the mimic flag to a branch
again, though, from his ignorance of the precise spot from
which it had been taken by Mabel, he left it fluttering
from a part of the oak where it was still more exposed than
before to the eyes of any passenger on the river, though
less in view from the island itself.



CHAPTER XXI.

Each one has had his supping mess,
The cheese is put into the press,
The pans and bowls, clean scalded all,
Reared up against the milk-house wall.
COTTON.


It seemed strange to Mabel Dunham, as she passed along
on her way to find her female companion, that others
should be so composed, while she herself felt as if the re-
sponsibilities of life and death rested on her shoulders.  It
is true that distrust of June's motives mingled with her
forebodings; but when she came to recall the affectionate
and natural manner of the young Indian girl, and all the
evidences of good faith and sincerity she had seen in her
conduct during the familiar intercourse of their journey,
she rejected the idea with the unwillingness of a generous
disposition to believe ill of others.  She saw, however, that
she could not put her companions properly on their guard
without letting them into the secret of her conference with
June; and she found herself compelled to act cautiously
and with a forethought to which she was unaccustomed,
more especially in a matter of so much moment.

The soldier's wife was told to transport the necessaries
into the blockhouse, and admonished not to be far from it
at any time during the day.  Mabel did not explain her
reasons.  She merely stated that she had detected some
signs in walking about the island, which induced her to
apprehend that the enemy had more knowledge of its po-
sition than had been previously believed, and that they
two at least, would do well to be in readiness to seek a
refuge at the shortest notice.  It was not difficult to arouse
the apprehension of this person, who, though a stout-
hearted Scotchwoman, was ready enough to listen to any-
thing that confirmed her dread of Indian cruelties.  As
soon as Mabel believed that her companion was sufficiently
frightened to make her wary, she threw out some hints
touching the inexpediency of letting the soldiers know the
extent of their own fears.  This was done with a view to
prevent discussions and inquiries that might embarrass
our heroine: she determining to render her uncle, the Cor-
poral, and his men more cautious, by adopting a different
course.  Unfortunately, the British army could not have
furnished a worse person for the particular duty that he
was now required to discharge than Corporal M'Nab, the
individual who had been left in command during the ab-
sence of Sergeant Dunham.  On the one hand, he was res-
olute, prompt, familiar with all the details of a soldier's
life, and used to war; on the other, he was supercilious as
regards the provincials, opinionated on every subject con-
nected with the narrow limits of his professional practice,
much disposed to fancy the British empire the centre of
all that is excellent in the world, and Scotland the focus
of, at least, all moral excellence in that empire.  In short,
he was an epitome, though on a scale suited to his rank,
of those very qualities which were so peculiar to the serv-
ants of the Crown that were sent into the colonies, as these
servants estimated themselves in comparison with the na-
tives of the country; or, in other words, he considered the
American as an animal inferior to the parent stock, and
viewed all his notions of military service, in particular, as
undigested and absurd.  A more impracticable subject,
therefore, could not well have offered for the purpose of
Mabel, and yet she felt obliged to lose no time in putting
her plan in execution.

"My father has left you a responsible command, Corpo-
ral," she said, as soon as she could catch M'Nab a little
apart; "for should the island fall into the hands of the
enemy, not only should we be captured, but the party that
is now out would in all probability become their prisoners
also."

"It needs no journey from Scotland to this place to
know the facts needful to be o' that way of thinking." re-
turned M'Nab drily.

"I do not doubt your understanding it as well as myelf,
Mr. M'Nab, but I'm fearful that you veterans, accustomed
as you are to dangers and battles, are a little apt to overlook
some of the precautions that may be necessary in a situa-
tion as peculiar as ours."

"They say Scotland is no conquered country, young
woman, but I'm thinking there must be some mistak' in
the matter, as we, her children, are so drowsy-headed and
apt to be o'ertaken when we least expect it."

"Nay, my good friend, you mistake my meaning.  In
the first place, I'm not thinking of Scotland at all, but of
this island; and then I am far from doubting your vigi-
lance when you think it necessary to practise it; but my
great fear is that there may be danger to whicb your cour-
age will make you indifferent."

"My courage, Mistress Dunham, is doubtless of a very
pool quality, being nothing but Scottish courage; your
father's is Yankee, and were he here amang us we should
see different preparations, beyond a doubt.  Well, times
are getting wrang, when foreigners hold commissions and
carry halberds in Scottish corps; and I no wonder that
battles are lost, and campaigns go wrang end foremost."

Mabel was almost in despair; but the quiet warning of
June was still too vividly impressed on her mind to allow
her to yield the matter.  She changed her mode of operat-
ing, therefore, still clinging to the hope of getting the
whole party within the blockhouse, without being corn-
pelled to betray the source whence she obtained her notices
of the necessity of vigilance.

"I daresay you are right, Corporal M'Nab," she ob-
served; "for I've often heard of tbe heroes of your coun-
try, who have been among the first of tbe civilized world,
if what they tell me of them is true."

"Have you read the history of Scotland, Mistress Dun-
ham?" demanded the Corporal, looking up at his pretty
companion, for the first time with something like a smile
on his hard, repulsive countenance.

"I have read a little of it, Corporal, but I've heard much
more.  The lady who brought me up had Scottish blood
in her veins, and was fond of the subject."

"I'll warrant ye, the Sergeant no' troubled himself to
expatiate on the renown of the country where his regiment
was raised?"

"My father has other things to think of, and the little
I know was got from the lady I have mentioned."

"She'll no' be forgetting to tall ye o' Wallace?"

"Of him I've even read a good deal."

"And o' Bruce, and the affair of Bannockburn?"

"Of that too, as well as of Culloden Muir."

The last of these battles was then a recent event, it hav-
ing actually been fought within the recollection of our
heroine, whose notions of it, however, were so confused
that she scarcely appreciated the effect her allusion might
produce on her companion.  She knew it had been a vic-
tory, and had often heard the guests of her patroness men-
tion it with triumph; and she fancied their feelings would
find a sympathetic chord in those of every British soldier.
Unfortunately, M'Nab had fought throughout that luckless
day on the side of the Pretender; and a deep scar that
garnished his face had been left there by the sabre of a
German soldier in the service of the House of Hanover.
He fancied that his wound bled afresh at Mabel's allusion;
and it is certain that the blood rushed to his face in a tor-
rent, as if it would pour out of his skin at the cicatrix.

"Hoot! hoot awa'!" he fairly shouted, "with your Cul-
loden and Sherriff muirs, young woman; ye'll no' be un-
derstanding the subject at all, and will manifest not only
wisdom but modesty in speaking o' your ain country and
its many failings.  King George has some loyal subjects
in the colonies, na doubt, but 'twill be a lang time before
he sees or hears any guid of them."

Mabel was surprised at the Corporal's heat, for she had
not the smallest idea where the shoe pinched; but she
was determined not to give up the point.

"I've always heard that the Scotch had two of the good
qualities of soldiers," she said, "courage and circumspec-
tion; and I feel persuaded that Corporal M'Nab will sus-
tain the national renown."

"Ask yer own father, Mistress Dunham; he is acquaint'
with Corporal M'Nab, and will no' be backward to point
out his demerits.  We have been in battle thegither, and
he is my superior officer, and has a sort o' official right to
give the characters of his subordinates."

"My father thinks well of you, M'Nab, or he would not
have left you in charge of this island and all it contains,
his own daughter included.  Among other things, I well
know that he calculates largely on your prudence.  He
expects the blockhouse in particular to be strictly attended
to."

"If he wishes to defend the honor of the 55th behind
logs, he ought to have remained in command himsel'; for,
to speak frankly, it goes against a Scotchman's bluid and
opinions to be beaten out of the field even before he is at-
tacked.  We are broadsword men, and love to stand foot
to foot with the foe.  This American mode of fighting,
that is getting into so much favor, will destroy the repu-
tation of his Majesty's army, if it no' destroy its spirit."

"No true soldier despises caution.  Even Major Duncan
himself, than whom there is none braver, is celebrated for
his care of his men."

"Lundie has his weakness, and is fast forgetting the
broadsword and open heaths in his tree and rifle practice.
But, Mistress Dunham, tak' the word of an old soldier,
who has seen his fifty-fifth year, when he talls ye that there
is no surer method to encourage your enemy than to seem
to fear him; and that there is no danger in this Indian
warfare that the fancies and imaginations of your Ameri-
cans have not enlarged upon, until they see a savage in
every bush.  We Scots come from a naked region, and have
no need and less relish for covers, and so ye'll be seeing,
Mistress Dunham -- "

The Corporal gave a spring into the air, fell forward on
his face, and rolled over on his back, the whole passing so
suddenly that Mabel had scarcely heard the sharp crack
of the rifle that had sent a bullet through his body.  Our
heroine did not shriek -- did not even tremble; for the
occurrence was too sudden, too awful, and too unexpected
for that exhibition of weakness; on the contrary, she
stepped hastily forward, with a natural impulse to aid her
companion.  There was just enough of life left in M'Nab
to betray his entire consciousness of all that had passed.
His countenance had the wild look of one who had been
overtaken by death by surprise; and Mabel, in her cooler
moments, fancied that it showed the tardy repentance of
a willful and obstinate sinner.

"Ye'll be getting into the blockhouse as fast as possible,"
M'Nab whispered, as Mabel leaned over him to catch his
dying words.

Then came over our heroine the full consciousness of
her situation and of the necessity of exertion.  She cast a
rapid glance at the body at her feet, saw that it had ceased
to breathe, and fled.  It was but a few minutes' run to
the blockhouse, the door of which Mabel had barely gained
when it was closed violently in her face by Jennie, the sol-
dier's wife, who in blind terror thought only of her own
safety.  The reports of five or six rifles were heard while
Mabel was calling out for admittance; and the additional
terror they produced prevented the woman within from
undoing quickly the very fastenings she had been so expert
in applying.  After a minute's delay, however, Mabel
found the door reluctantly yielding to her constant pres-
sure, and she forced her slender body through the opening
the instant it was large enough to allow of its passage.  By
this time Mabel's heart ceased to beat tulmultuously and
she gained sufficient self-command to act collectedly.  In
stead of yielding to the almost convulsive efforts of her
companion to close the door again, she held it open long
enough to ascertain that none of her own party was in
sight, or likely on the instant to endeavor to gain admis-
sion: then she allowed the opening to be shut.  Her orders
and proceedings now became more calm and rational.
But a single bar was crossed, and Jennie was directed to
stand in readiness to remove even that at any application
from a friend.  She then ascended the ladder to the room
above, where by means of a loophole she was enabled to
get as good a view of the island as the surrounding bushes
would allow.  Admonishing her associate below to be firm
and steady, she made as careful an examination of the en-
virons as her situation permitted.

To her great surprise, Mabel could not at first see a liv-
ing soul on the island, friend or enemy.  Neither French-
man nor Indian was visible, though a small straggling
white cloud that was floating before the wind told her in
which quarter she ought to look for them.  The rifles had
been discharged from the direction of the island whence
June had come, though whether the enemy were on that
island, or had actually landed on her own, Mabel could
not say.  Going to the loop that commanded a view of the
spot where M'Nab lay, her blood curdled at perceiving all
three of his soldiers lying apparently lifeless at his side.
These men had rushed to a common centre
at the first
alarm, and had been shot down almost simultaneously by
the invisible foe whom the Corporal had affected to despise.

Neither Cap nor Lieutenant Muir was to be seen.  With
a beating heart, Mabel examined every opening through
the trees, and ascended even to the upper story or garret of
the blockhouse, where she got a full view of the whole
island, so far as its covers would allow, but with no better
success.  She had expected to see the body of her uncle
lying on the grass like those of the soldiers, but it was
nowhere visible.  Turning towards the spot where the boat
lay, Mabel saw that it was still fastened to the shore; and
then she supposed that by some accident Muir had been
prevented from effecting his retreat in that quarter.  In
short, the island lay in the quiet of the grave, the bodies
of the soldiers rendering the scone as fearful as it was ex-
traordinary.

"For God's holy sake, Mistress Mabel," called out the
woman from below; for, though her fear had become too
ungovernable to allow her to keep silence, our heroine's
superior refinement, more than the regimental station of
her father, still controlled her mode of address, -- "Mistress
Mabel, tell me if any of our friends are living!  I think I
hear groans that grow fainter and fainter, and fear that
they will all be tomahawked!"

Mabel now remembered that one of the soldiers was this
woman's husband, and she trembled at what might be the
immediate effect of her sorrow, should his death become
suddenly known to her.  The groans, too, gave a little
hope, though she feared they might come from her uncle,
who lay out of view.

"We are in His holy keeping, Jennie," she answered.
"We must trust in Providence, while we neglect none
of its benevolent means of protecting ourselves.  Be care-
ful with the door; on no account open it without my di-
rections."

"Oh, tell me, Mistress Mabel, if you can anywhere see
Sandy!  If I could only let him know that I'm in safety,
the guid man would be easier in his mind, whether free or
a prisoner."

Sandy was Jennie's husband, and he lay dead in plain
view of the loop from which our heroine was then looking.

"You no' tell me if you're seeing of Sandy," the woman
repeated from below, impatient at Mabel's silence.

"There are some of our people gathered about the body
of M'Nab, was the answer; for it seemed sacrilegious in
her eyes to tell a direct untruth under the awful circum-
stances in which she was placed.

"Is Sandy amang them?" demanded the woman, in a
voice that sounded appalling by its hoarseness and energy.

"He may be certainly; for I see one, two, three, four,
and all in the scarlet coats of the regiment."

"Sandy!" called out the woman frantically; "why d'ye
no' care for yoursal', Sandy?  Come hither the instant,
man, and share your wife's fortunes in weal or woe.  It's
no' a moment for your silly discipline and vain-glorious
notions of honor!  Sandy!  Sandy!"

Mabel heard the bar turn, and then the door creaked on
its hinges.  Expectation, not to say terror, held her in sus-
pense at the loop, and she soon beheld Jennie rushing
through the bushes in the direction of the cluster of the
dead.  It took the woman but an instant to reach the
fatal spot.  So sudden and unexpected had been the blow,
that she in her terror did not appear to comprehend its
weight.  Some wild and half-frantic notion of a deception
troubled her fancy, and she imagined that the men were
trifling with her fears.  She took her husband's hand, and
it was still warm, while she thought a covert smile was
struggling on his lip.

"Why will ye fool life away, Sandy?" she cried, pulling
at the arm.  "Ye'll all be murdered by these accursed
Indians, and you no' takin' to the block like trusty sol-
diers!  Awa'! awa'! and no' be losing the precious mo-
ments."

In her desperate efforts, the woman pulled the body of
her husband in a way to cause the head to turn completely
over, when tbe small hole in the temple, caused by the en-
trance of a rifle bullet, and a few drops of blood trickling
over the skin, revealed the meaning of her husband's si-
lence.  As the horrid truth flashed in its full extent on
her mind, the woman clasped her hands, gave a shriek
that pierced the glades of every island near, and fell at
length on the dead body of the soldier.  Thrilling, heart-
reaching, appalling as was that shriek, it was melody to
the cry that followed it so quickly as to blend the sounds.
The terrific war-whoop arose out of the covers of the
island, and some twenty savages, horrible in their paint
and the other devices of Indian ingenuity, rushed forward,
eager to secure the coveted scalps.  Arrowhead was fore-
most, and it was his tomahawk that brained the insensible
Jennie; and her reeking hair was hanging at his girdle as
a trophy in less than two minutes after she had quitted
the blockhouse.  His companions were equally active, and
M'Nab and his soldiers no longer presented the quiet as-
pect of men who slumbered.  They were left in their gore,
unequivocally butchered co rpses.

All this passed in much less time than has been required
to relate it, and all this did Mabel witness.  She had stood
riveted to the spot, gazing on the whole horrible scene, as
if enchained by some charm, nor did the idea of self or of
her own danger once obtrude itself on her thoughts.  But
no sooner did she perceive the place where the men had
fallen covered with savages, exulting in the success of their
surprise, than it occurred to her that Jennie had left the
blockhouse door unbarred.  Her heart beat violently, for
that defence alone stood between her and immediate death,
and she sprang toward the ladder with the intention of
descending to make sure of it.  Her foot had not yet
reached the floor of the second story, however, when she
heard the door grating on its hinges, and she gave herself
up for lost.  Sinking on her knees, the terrified but cour-
ageous girl endeavored to prepare herself for death, and
to raise her thoughts to God.  The instinct of life, how-
ever, was too strong for prayer, and while her lips moved,
the jealous senses watched every sound beneath.  When
her ears heard the bars, which went on pivots secured to
the centre of the door, turning into their fastenings, not
one, as she herself had directed, with a view to admit her
uncle should he apply, but all three, she started again to
her feet, all spiritual contemplations vanishing in her
actual temporal condition, and it seemed as if all her fac-
ulties were absorbed in the sense of hearing.

The thoughts are active in a moment so fearful.  At
first Mabel fancied that her uncle had entered the block-
house, and she was about to descend the ladder and throw
herself into his arms; then the idea that it might be an
Indian, who had barred the door to shut out intruders
while he plundered at leisure, arrested the movement.  The
profound stillness below was unlike the bold, restless move-
ments of Cap, and it seemed to savor more of the artifices
of an enemy.  If a friend at all, it could only be her uncle
or the Quartermaster; for the horrible conviction now pre-
sented itself to our heroine that to these two and herself
were the whole party suddenly reduced, if, indeed, the two
latter survived.  This consideration held Mabel in check,
and for full two minutes more a breathless silence reigned
in the building.  During this time the girl stood at the
foot of the upper ladder, the trap which led to the lower
opening on the opposite side of the floor; the eyes of
Mabel were riveted on this spot, for she now began to ex-
pect to see at each instant the horrible sight of a savage
face at the hole.  This apprehension soon became so in-
tense, that she looked about her for a place of conceal-
ment.  The procrastination of the catastrophe she now
fully expected, though it were only for a moment, afforded
a relief.  The room contained several barrels; and behind
two of these Mabel crouched, placing her eyes at an open-
ing by which she could still watch the trap.  She made
another effort to pray; but the moment was too horrible
for that relief.  She thought, too, that she heard a low
rustling, as if one were ascending the lower ladder with an
effort at caution so great as to betray itself by its own ex-
cess; then followed a creaking that she was certain came
from one of the steps of the ladder, which had made the
same noise under her own light weight as she ascended.
This was one of those instants into which are compressed
the sensations of years of ordinary existence.  Life, death,
eternity, and extreme bodily pain were all standing out in
bold relief from the plane of every-day occurrences; and
she might have been taken at that moment for a beautiful
pallid representation of herself, equally without motion
and without vitality.  But while such was the outward
appearance of the form, never had there been a time in
her brief career when Mabel heard more acutely, saw more
clearly, or felt more vividly.  As yet, nothing was visible
at the trap, but her ears, rendered exquisitely sensitive by
intense feeling, distinctly acquainted her that some one
was within a few inches of the opening in the floor.  Next
followed the evidence of her eyes, which beheld the dark
hair of an Indian rising so slowly through the passage that
the movements of the head might be likened to that of the
minute-hand of a clock; then came the dark skin and wild
features, until the whole of the swarthy face had risen
above the floor.  The human countenance seldom appears
to advantage when partially concealed; and Mabel imagined
many additional horrors as she first saw the black, roving
eyes and the expression of wildness as the savage counte-
nance was revealed, as it might be, inch by inch; but when
the entire head was raised above the floor, a second and a
better look assured our heroine that she saw the gentle,
anxious, and even handsome face of June.



CHAPTER XXII.

Spectre though I be,
I am not sent to scare thee or deceive;
But in reward of thy fidelity.
WORDSWORTH.


It would be difficult to say which evinced the most sat-
isfaction, when Mabel sprang to her feet and appeared in
the centre of the room, our heroine, on finding that her
visitor was the wife of Arrowhead, and not Arrowhead
himself, or June, at discovering that her advice had been
followed, and that the blockhouse contained the person
she had so anxiously and almost hopelessly sought.  They
embraced each other, and the unsophisticated Tuscarora
woman laughed in her sweet accents as she held her friend
at arm's length, and made certain of her presence.

"Blockhouse good," said the young Indian; "got no
scalp."

"It is indeed good, June," Mabel answered, with a shud-
der, veiling her eyes at the same time, as if to shut out a
view of the horrors she had so lately witnessed.  "Tell me,
for God's sake, if you know what has become of my dear
uncle!  I have looked in all directions without being able
to see him."

"No here in blockhouse?" June asked, with some curi-
osity.

"Indeed he is not: I am quite alone in this place; Jen-
nie, the woman who was with me, having rushed out to
join her husband, and perishing for her imprudence."

"June know, June see; very bad, Arrowhead no feel for
any wife; no feel for his own."

"Ah, June, your life, at least, is safe!"

"Don't know; Arrowhead kill me, if he know all."

"God bless and protect you, June!  He _will_ bless and
protect you for this humanity.  Tell me what is to be
done, and if my poor uncle is still living?"

"Don't know.  Saltwater has boat; maybe he go on
river."

"The boat is still on the shore, but neither my uncle nor
the Quartermaster is anywhere to be seen."

"No kill, or June would see.  Hide away!  Red man
hide; no shame for pale-face."

"It is not the shame that I fear for them, but the op-
portunity.  Your attack was awfully sudden, June!"

"Tuscarora!" returned the other, smiling with exultation
at the dexterity of her husband.  "Arrowhead great war-
rior!"

"You are too good and gentle for this sort of life, June;
you cannot be happy in such scenes?"

June's countenance grew clouded, and Mabel fancied
there was some of the savage fire of a chief in her frown
as she answered, --

"Yengeese too greedy, take away all hunting-grounds;
chase Six Nation from morning to night; wicked king,
wicked people.  Pale-face very bad."

Mabel knew that, even in that distant day, there was
much truth in this opinion, though she was too well in-
structed not to understand that the monarch, in this, as
in a thousand other cases, was blamed for acts of which he
was most probably ignorant.  She felt the justice of the
rebuke, therefore, too much to attempt an answer, and
her thoughts naturally reverted to her own situation.

"And what am I to do, June?" she demanded.  "It
cannot be long before your people will assault this build-
ing."

"Blockhouse good -- got no scalp.

"But they will soon discover that it has got no garrison
too, if they do not know it already.  You yourself told
me the number of people that were on the island, and
doubtless you learned it from Arrowhead."

"Arrowhead know," answered June, holding up six fin-
gers, to indicate the number of the men.  "All red men
know.  Four lose scalp already; two got 'em yet."

"Do not speak of it, June; the horrid thought curdles
my blood.  Your people cannot know that I am alone in
the blockhouse, but may fancy my uncle and the Quarter-
master with me, and may set fire to the building, in order
to dislodge them.  They tell me that fire is the great dan-
ger to such places."

"No burn blockhouse," said June quietly;

"You cannot know that, my good June, and I have no
means to keep them off."

"No burn blockhouse.  Blockhouse good; got no scalp."

"But tell me why, June; I fear they will burn it."

"Blockhouse wet -- much rain -- logs green -- no burn easy.
Red man know it -- fine t'ing -- then no burn it to tell
Yengeese that Iroquois been here.  Fader come back,
miss blockhouse, no found.  No, no; Indian too much
cunning; no touch anything."

"I understand you, June, and hope your prediction may
be true; for, as regards my dear father, should he escape --
perhaps he is already dead or captured, June ?"

"No touch fader -- don't know where he gone -- water got
no trail -- red man can't follow.  No burn blockhouse --
blockhouse good; got no scalp."

"Do you think it possible for me to remain here safely
until my father returns?"

"Don't know; daughter tell best when fader come back."
Mabel felt uneasy at the glance of June's dark eye as
she uttered this; for the unpleasant surmise arose that her
companion was endeavoring to discover a fact that might
be useful to her own people, while it would lead to the
destruction of her parent and his party.  She was about to
make an evasive answer, when a heavy push at the outer
door suddenly drew all her thoughts to the immediate
danger.

"They come!" she exclaimed.  "Perhaps, June, it is
my uncle or the Quartermaster.  I cannot keep out even
Mr. Muir at a moment like this."

"Why no look? plenty loophole, made purpose."

Mabel took the hint, and, going to one of the downward
loops, that had been cut through the logs in the part that
overhung the basement, she cautiously raised the little
block that ordinarily filled the small hole, and caught a
glance at what was passing at the door.  The start and
changing countenance told her companion that some of her
own people were below.

"Red man," said June, lifting a finger in admonition to
be prudent.

"Four; and horrible in their paint and bloody trophies.
Arrowhead is among them."

June had moved to a corner, where several spare rifles
had been deposited, and had already taken one into her
hand, when the name of her husband appeared to arrest
her movements.  It was but for an instant, however, for she
immediately went to the loop, and was about to thrust the
muzzle of the piece through it, when a feeling of natural
aversion induced Mabel to seize her arm.

"No, no, no, June!" said the latter; "not against your
own husband, though my life be the penalty."

"No hurt Arrowhead," returned June, with a slight
shudder, "no hurt red man at all.  No fire at 'em; only
scare."

Mabel now comprehended the intention of June, and
no longer opposed it.  The latter thrust the muzzle of the
rifle through the loophole; and, taking care to make noise
enough to attract attraction, she pulled the trigger.  The
piece had no sooner been discharged than Mabel reproached
her friend for the very act that was intended to serve her.

"You declared it was not your intention to fire," she
said, "and you may have destroyed your own husband."

"All run away before I fire," returned June, laughing,
and going to another loop to watch the movements of her
friends, laughing still heartier.  "See! get cover -- every
warrior.  Think Saltwater and Quartermaster here.  Take
good care now."

"Heaven be praised!  And now, June, I may hope for a
little time to compose my thoughts to prayer, that I may
not die like Jennie, thinking only of life and the things
of the world."

June laid aside the rifle, and came and seated herself
near the box on which Mabel had sunk, under that physi-
cal reaction which accompanies joy as well as sorrow.  She
looked steadily in our heroine's face, and the latter thought
that her countenance had an expression of severity mingled
with its concern.

"Arrowhead great warrior," said the Tuscarora's wife.
"All the girls of tribe look at him much.  The pale-face
beauty has eyes too?"

"June! -- what do these words -- that look -- imply? what
would you say?"

"Why you so 'fraid June shoot Arrowhead?"

"Would it not have been horrible to see a wife destroy
her own husband?  No, June, rather would I have died
myself."

"Very sure, dat all?"

"That was all, June, as God is my judge! -- and surely
that was enough.  No, no! there have been sufficient hor-
rors to-day, without increasing them by an act like this.
What other motive can you suspect?"

"Don't know.  Poor Tuscarora girl very foolish.  Arrow-
head great chief, and look all round him.  Talk of pale-
face beauty in his sleep.  Great chief like many wives."

"Can a chief possess more than one wife, June, among
your people?"

"Have as many as he can keep.  Great hunter marry
often.  Arrowhead got only June now; but he look too
much, see too much, talk too much of pale-face girl."

Mabel was conscious of this fact, which had distressed
her not a little, in the course of their journey; but it
shocked her to hear this allusion, coming, as it did, from
the mouth of the wife herself.  She knew that habit and
opinions made great differences in such matters; but, in
addition to the pain and mortification she experienced at
being the unwilling rival of a wife, she felt an apprehension
that jealousy would be but an equivocal guarantee for
her personal safety in her present situation.  A closer look
at June, however, reassured her; for, while it was easy to
trace in the unpractised features of this unsophisticated
being the pain of blighted affections, no distrust could
have tortured the earnest expression of her honest counte-
nance into that of treachery or hate.

"You will not betray me, June?" Mabel said, pressing
the other's hand, and yielding to an impulse of generous
confidence.  "You will not give up one of your own sex
to the tomahawk?"

"No tomahawk touch you.  Arrowhead no let 'em.  If
June must have sister-wife, love to have you."

"No, June; my religion, my feelings, both forbid it;
and, if I could be the wife of an Indian at all, I 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 com-
pare 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 gentle-
ness 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 conse-
quences 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 everything to en-
courage 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's.  Arrow-
head 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 in-
trenched 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 blockhouse 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 poeti-
cal 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 notion 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 good husband," said June; "marry Eau-
douce, if don't like Arrowhead."

"June! this is not a fit subject for a girl who scarcely
knows if she is to live another hour or not.  I would obtain
some signs of my dear uncle's being alive and safe, if pos-
sible."

"June go see."

"Can you? -- will you? -- would it be safe for you to be
seen on the island? is your presence known to the warriors,
and would they be pleased to find a woman on the war-
path with them?"

All this Mabel asked in rapid connection, fearing that
the answer might not be as she wished.  She had thought
it extraordinary that June should be of the party, and, im-
probable as it seemed, she had fancied that the woman
had covertly followed the Iroquois in her own canoe, and
had got in their advance, merely to give her the notice
which had probably saved her life.  But in all this she
was mistaken, as June, in her imperfect manner, now
found means to let her know.

Arrowhead, though a chief, was in disgrace with his own
people, and was acting with the Iroquois temporarily,
though with a perfect understanding.  He had a wigwam,
it is true, but was seldom in it; feigning friendship for
the English, he had passed the summer ostensibly in their
service, while he was, in truth, acting for the French, and
his wife journeyed with him in his many migrations, most
of the distances being passed over in canoes.  In a word,
her presence was no secret, her husband seldom moving
without her.  Enough of this to embolden Mabel to wish
that her friend might go out, to ascertain the fate of her
uncle, did June succeed in letting the other know; and
it was soon settled between them that the Indian woman
should quit the blockhouse with that object the moment a
favorable opportunity offered.

They first examined the island, as thoroughly as their
position would allow, from the different loops, and found
that its conquerors were preparing for a feast, having seized
upon the provisions of the English and rifled the huts.
Most of the stores were in the blockhouse; but enough
were found outside to reward the Indians for an attack
that had been attended by so little risk.  A party had
already removed the dead bodies, and Mabel saw that their
arms were collected in a pile near the spot chosen for the
banquet.  June suggested that, by some signs which she
understood, the dead themselves were carried into a thicket
and either buried or concealed from view.  None of the
more prominent objects on the island, however, were dis-
turbed, it being the desire of the conquerors to lure the
party of the Sergeant into an ambush on its return.  June
made her companion observe a man in a tree, a look-out,
as she said, to give timely notice of the approach of any
boat, although, the departure of the expedition being so
recent, nothing but some unexpected event would be likely
to bring it back so soon.  There did not appear to be any
intention to attack the blockhouse immediately; but every
indication, as understood by June, rather showed that it
was the intention of the Indians to keep it besieged until
the return of the Sergeant's party, lest, the signs of an as-
sault should give a warning to eyes as practised as those
of Pathfinder.  The boat, however, had been secured, and
was removed to the spot where the canoes of the Indians
were hid in the bushes.

June now announced her intention to join her friends,
the moment being particularly favorable for her to quit
the blockhouse.  Mabel felt some distrust as they de-
scended the ladder; but at the next instant she was
ashamed of the feeling, as unjust to her companion and
unworthy of herself, and by the time they both stood on
the ground her confidence was restored.  The process of
unbarring the door was conducted with the utmost cau-
tion, and when the last bar was ready to be turned June
took her station near the spot where the opening must
necessarily be.  The bar was just turned free of the
brackets, the door was opened merely wide enongh to allow
her body to pass, and June glided through the space.
Mabel closed the door again, with a convulsive movement;
and as the bar turned into its place, her heart beat audibly.
She then felt secure; and the two other bars were turned
down in a more deliberate manner.  When all was fast
again, she ascended to the first floor, where alone she could
get a glimpse of what was going on without.

Long and painfully melancholy hours passed, during
which Mabel had no intelligence from June.  She heard
the yells of the savages, for liquor had carried them be-
yond the bounds of precaution; and occasionally caught
glimpses of their mad orgies through the loops; and at all
times was conscious of their fearful presence by sounds
and sights that would have chilled the blood of one who
had not so lately witnessed scenes so much more terrible.
Toward the middle of the day, she fancied she saw a white
man on the island, though his dress and wild appearance
at first made her take him for a newly-arrived savage.  A
view of his face, although it was swarthy naturally, and
much darkened by exposure, left no doubt that her con-
jecture was true; and she felt as if there was now one of
a species more like her own present, and one to whom she
might appeal for succor in the last emergency.  Mabel lit-
tle knew, alas! how ,small was the influence exercised by
the whites over their savage allies, when the latter had
begun to taste of blood; or how slight, indeed, was the
disposition to divert them from their cruelties.

The day seemed a month by Mabel's computation, and
the only part of it that did not drag were the minutes
spent in prayer.  She had recourse to this relief from time
to time; and at each effort she found her spirit firmer, her
mind more tranquil, and her resignation more confirmed.
She understood the reasoning of June, and believed it
highly probable that the blockhouse would be left unmo-
lested until the return of her father, in order to entice him
into an ambuscade, and she felt much less apprehension of
immediate danger in consequence; but the future offered
little ground of hope, and her thoughts had already begun
to calculate the chances of her captivity.  At such mo-
ments, Arrowhead and his offensive admiration filled a
prominent place in the background: for our heroine well
knew that the Indians usually carried off to their villages,
for the purposes of adoption, such captives as they did not
slay; and that many instances had occurred in which in-
dividuals of her sex had passed the remainder of their
lives in the wigwams of their conquerors.  Such thoughts
as these invariably drove her to her knees and to her
prayers.

While the light lasted the situation of our heroine was
sufficiently alarming; but as the shades of evening grad-
ually gathered over the island, it became fearfully appal-
ling.  By this time the savages had wrought themselves
up to the point of fury, for they had possessed themselves
of all the liquor of the English; and their outcries and
gesticulations were those of men truly possessed by evil
spirits.  All the efforts of their French leader to restrain
them were entirely fruitless, and he had wisely withdrawn
to an adjacent island, where he had a sort of bivouac, that
he might keep at a safe distance from friends so apt to
run into excesses.  Before quitting the spot, however, this
officer, at great risk to his own life, had succeeded in ex-
tinguishing the fire, and in securing the ordinary means
to relight it.  This precaution he took lest the Indians
should burn the blockhouse, the preservation of which was
necessary to the success of his future plans.  He would
gladly have removed all the arms also, but this he found
impracticable, the warriors clinging to their knives and
tomahawks with the tenacity of men who regarded a point
of honor as long as a faculty was left; and to carry off the
rifles, and leave behind him the very weapons that were
generally used on such occasions, would have been an idle
expedient.  The extinguishing of the fire proved to be the
most prudent measure; for no sooner was the officer's back
turned than one of the warriors in fact proposed to fire
the blockhouse.  Arrowhead had also withdrawn from the
group of drunkards as soon as he found that they were
losing their senses, and had taken possession of a hut,
where he had thrown himself on the straw, and sought the
rest that two wakeful and watchful nights had rendered
necessary.  It followed that no one was left among the
Indians to care for Mabel, if, indeed, any knew of her ex-
istence at all; and the proposal of the drunkard was re-
ceived with yells of delight by eight or ten more as much
intoxicated and habitually as brutal as himself.

This was the fearful moment for Mabel.  The Indians,
in their present condition, were reckless of any rifles that
the blockhouse might hold, though they did retain dim
recollections of its containing living beings, an additional
incentive to their enterprise; and they approached its
base whooping and leaping like demons.  As yet they
were excited, not overcome by the liquor they had drunk.
The first attempt was made at the door, against which
they ran in a body; but the solid structure, which was
built entirely of logs, defied their efforts.  The rush of a
hundred men with the same object would have been use-
less.  This Mabel, however, did not know; and her heart
seemed to leap into her mouth as she heard the heavy shock
at each renewed effort.  At length when, she found that
the door resisted these assaults as if it were of stone,
neither trembling nor yielding, and only betraying its not
being a part of the wall by rattling a little on its heavy
hinges, her courage revived, and she seized the first mo-
ment of a cessation to look down through the loop, in
order, if possible, to learn the extent of her danger.  A
silence, for which it was not easy to account, stimulated
her curiosity; for nothing is so alarming to those who are
conscious of the presence of imminent danger, as to be
unable to trace its approach.

Mabel found that two or three of the Iroquois had been
raking the embers, where they had found a few small coals,
and with these they were endeavoring to light a fire.  The
interest with which they labored, the hope of destroying,
and the force of habit, enabled them to act intelligently
and in unison, so long as their fell object was kept in
view.  A white man would have abandoned the attempt
to light a fire in despair, with coals that came out of the
ashes resembling sparks; but these children of the forest
had many expedients that were unknown to civilization.
By the aid of a few dry leaves, which they alone knew
where to seek, a blaze was finally kindled, and then the
addition of a few light sticks made sure of the advantage
that had been obtained.  When Mabel stooped down over
the loop, the Indians were making a pile of brush against
the door, and as she remained gazing at their proceedings,
she saw the twigs ignite, the flame dart from branch to
branch, until the whole pile was cracking and snapping
under a bright blaze.  The Indians now gave a yell of
triumph, and returned to their companions, well assured
that the work of destruction was commenced.  Mabel re-
mained looking down, scarcely able to tear herself away
from the spot, so intense and engrossing was the interest
she felt in the progress of the fire.  As the pile kindled
throughout, however, the flames mounted, until they
flashed so near her eyes as to compel her to retreat.  Just
as she reached the opposite side of the room, to which she
had retired in her alarm, a forked stream shot up through
the loophole, the lid of which she had left open, and illu-
minated the rude apartment, with Mabel and her desola-
tion.  Our heroine now naturally enough supposed that her
hour was come; for the door, the only means of retreat,
had been blocked up by the brush aud fire, with hellish in-
genuity, and she addressed herself, as she believed, for the
last time to her Maker in prayer.  Her eyes were closed,
and for more than a minute her spirit was abstracted; but
the interests of the world too strongly divided her feelings
to be altogether suppressed; and when they involuntarily
opened again, she perceived that the streak of flame was
no longer flaring in the room, though the wood around
the little aperture had kindled, and the blaze was slowly
mounting under the impulsion of a current of air that
sucked inward.  A barrel of water stood in a corner; and
Mabel, acting more by instinct than by reason, caught up
a vessel, filled it, and, pouring it on the wood with a
trembling hand, succeeded in extinguishing the fire at that
particular spot.  The smoke prevented her from looking
down again for a couple of minutes; but when she did
her heart beat high with delight and hope at finding that
the pile of blazing brush had been overturned and scat-
tered, and that water had been thrown on the logs of the
door, which were still smoking though no longer burn-
ing.

"Who is there?" said Mabel, with her mouth at the
loop.  "What friendly hand has a merciful Providence
sent to my succor?"

A light footstep was audible below, and one of those
gentle pushes at the door was heard, which just moved the
massive beams on the hinges.

"Who wishes to enter?  Is it you, dear, dear uncle?"

"Saltwater no here.  St. Lawrence sweet water," was
the answer.  "Open quick; want to come in."

The step of Mabel was never lighter, or her movements
more quick and natural, than while she was descending
the ladder and turniug the bars, for all her motions were
earnest and active.  This time she thought only of her
escape, and she opened the door with a rapidity which did
not admit of caution.  Her first impulse was to rush into
the open air, in the blind hope of quitting the blockhouse;
but June repulsed the attempt, and entering, she coolly
barred the door again before she would notice Mabel's
eager efforts to embrace her.

"Bless you! bless you, June!" cried our heroine most
fervently; "you are sent by Providence to be my guardian
angel!"

"No hug so tight," answered the Tuscarora woman.
"Paleface woman all cry, or all laugh.  Let June fasten
door."

Mabel became more rational, and in a few minutes the
two were again in the upper room, seated as before, hand in
hand, all feeling of distrust between them being banished.

"Now tell me, June," Mabel commenced as soon as she
had given and received one warm embrace, "have you seen
or heard aught of my poor uncle?"

"Don't know.  No one see him; no one hear him; no
one know anyt'ing.  Saltwater run into river, I t'ink, for
I no find him.  Quartermaster gone too.  I look, and
look, and look; but no see' em, one, t'other, nowhere."

"Blessed be God!  They must have escaped, though the
means are not known to us.  I thought I saw a French-
man on the island, June."

"Yes: French captain come, but he go away too.
Plenty of Indian on island."

"Oh, June, June, are there no means to prevent my be-
loved father from falling into the hands of his enemies?"

"Don't know; t'ink dat warriors wait in ambush, and
Yengeese must lose scalp."

"Surely, surely, June, you, who have done so much for
the daughter, will not refuse to help the father?"

"Don't know fader, don't love fader.  June help her
own people help Arrowhead -- husband love scalp."

"June, this is not yourself.  I cannot, will not believe
that you wish to see our men murdered!"

June turned her dark eyes quietly on Mabel; and for a
moment her look was stern, though it was soon changed
into one of melancholy compassion.

"Lily, Yengeese girl?" she said, as one asks a question.

"Certainly, and as a Yengeese girl I would save my
countrymen from slaughter."

"Very good, if can.  June no Yengeese, June Tusca-
rora -- got Tuscarora husband -- Tuscarora heart -- Tuscarora
feeling -- all over Tuscarora.  Lily wouldn't run and tell
French that her fader was coming to gain victory?"

"Perhaps not," returned Mabel, pressing a hand on a
brain that felt bewildered, -- "perhaps not; but you serve
me, aid me -- have saved me, June!  Why have you done
this, if you only feel as a Tuscarora?"

"Don't only feel as Tuscarora; feel as girl, feel as squaw.
Love pretty Lily, and put it in my bosom."

Mabel melted into tears, and she pressed the affectionate
creature to her heart.  It was near a minute before she
could renew the discourse, but then she succeeded in
speaking more calmly and with greater coherence.

"Let me know the worst, June," said she.  "To-night
your people are feasting; what do they intend to do to-
morrow?"

"Don't know; afraid to see Arrowhead, afraid to ask
question; t'ink hide away till Yengeese come back."

"Will they not attempt anything against the block-
house?  You have seen what they can threaten if they
will."

"Too much rum.  Arrowhead sleep, or no dare; French
captain gone away, or no dare.  All go to sleep now."

"And you think I am safe for this night, at least?"

"Too much rum.  If Lily like June, might do much
for her people."

"I am like you, June, if a wish to serve my countrymen
can make a resemblance with one as courageous as your-
self."

"No, no, no!" muttered June in a low voice; "no got
heart, and June no let you, if had.  June's moder pris-
oner once, and warriors got drunk; moder tomahawked
'em all.  Such de way red skin women do when people in
danger and want scalp."

"You say what is true," returned Mabel, shuddering,
and unconsciously dropping June's hand.  "I cannot do
that.  I have neither the strength, the courage, nor the
will to dip my hands in blood."

"T'ink that too; then stay where you be -- blockhouse
good -- got no scalp."

"You believe, then, that I am safe here, at least until
my father and his people return?"

"Know so.  No dare touch blockhouse in morning.
Hark! all still now -- drink rum till head fall down, and
sleep like log."

"Might I not escape?  Are there not several canoes on
the island?  Might I not get one, and go and give my
father notice of what has happened?"

"Know how to paddle?" demanded June, glancing her
eye furtively at her companion.

"Not so well as yourself, perhaps; but enough to get
out of sight before morning."

"What do then? -- couldn't paddle six -- ten -- eight
mile!"

"I do not know; I would do much to warn my father,
and the excellent Pathfinder, and all the rest, of the dan-
ger they are in."

"Like Pathfinder?"

"All like him who know him -- you would like him, nay,
love him, if you only knew his heart!"

"No like him at all.  Too good rifle -- too good eye --
too much shoot Iroquois and June's people.  Must get his
scalp if can."

"And I must save it if I can, June.  In this respect,
then, we are opposed to each other.  I will go and find a
canoe the instant they are all asleep, and quit the island."

"No can -- June won't let you.  Call Arrowhead."

"June! you would not betray me -- you could not give
me up after all you have done for me?"

"Just so," returned June, making a backward gesture
with her hand, and speaking with a warmth and earnest-
ness Mabel had never witnessed in her before.  "Call
Arrowhead in loud voice.  One call from wife wake a war-
rior up.  June no let Lily help enemy -- no let Indian hurt
Lily."

"I understand you, June, and feel the nature and jus-
tice of your sentiments; and, after all, it were better that
I should remain here, for I have most probably overrated
my strength.  But tell me one thing: if my uncle comes
in the night, and asks to be admitted, you will let me open
the door of the blockhouse that he may enter?"

"Sartain -- he prisoner here, and June like prisoner bet-
ter than scalp; scalp good for honor, prisoner good for
feeling.  But Saltwater hide so close, he don't know where
he be himself."

Here June laughed in her girlish, mirthful way, for to
her scenes of violence were too familiar to leave impres-
sions sufficiently deep to change her natural character.  A
long and discursive dialogue now followed, in which Mabel
endeavored to obtain clearer notions of her actual situa-
tion, under a faint hope that she might possibly be enabled
to turn some of the facts she thus learned to advantage.
June answered all her interrogatories simply, but with a
caution which showed she fully distinguished between
that which was immaterial and that which might endanger
the safety or embarrass the future operations of her
friends.  The substance of the information she gave may
be summed up as follows.

Arrowhead had long been in communication with the
French, though this was the first occasion on which he
had entirely thrown aside the mask.  He no longer in-
tended to trust himself among the English, for he had
discovered traces of distrust, particularly in Pathfinder;
and, with Indian bravado, he now rather wished to blazon
than to conceal his treachery.  He had led the party of
warriors in the attack on the island, subject, however, to
the supervision of the Frenchman who has been men-
tioned, though June declined saying whether he had been
the means of discovering the position of a place which had
been thought to be so concealed from the enemy or not.
On this point she would say nothing; but she admitted
that she and her husband had been watching the depar-
ture of the _Scud_ at the time they were overtaken and cap-
tured by the cutter.  The French had obtained their in-
formation of the precise position of the station but very
recently; and Mabel felt a pang when she thought that
there were covert allusions of the Indian woman which
would convey the meaning that the intelligence had come
from a pale-face in the employment of Duncan of Lundie.
This was intimated, however, rather than said; and when
Mabel had time to reflect on her companion's words, she
found room to hope that she had misunderstood her, and
that Jasper Western would yet come out of the affair freed
from every injurious imputation.

June did not hesitate to confess that she had been sent
to the island to ascertain the precise number and the oc-
cupations of those who had been left on it, though she also
betrayed in her _naive_ way that the wish to serve Mabel
had induced her principally to consent to come.  In con-
sequence of her report, and information otherwise ob-
tained, the enemy was aware of precisely the force that
could be brought against them.  They also knew the
number of men who had gone with Sergeant Dunham, and
were acquainted with the object he had in view, though
they were ignorant of the spot where he expected to meet
the French boats.  It would have been a pleasant sight to
witness the eager desire of each of these two sincere
females to ascertain all that might be of consequence to
their respective friends; and yet the native delicacy with
which each refrained from pressing the other to make
revelations which would have been improper, as well as
the sensitive, almost intuitive, feeling with which each
avoided saying aught that might prove injurious to her
own nation.  As respects each other, there was perfect
confidence; as regarded their respective people, entire
fidelity.  June was quite as anxious as Mabel could be on
any other point to know where the Sergeant had gone
and when he was expected to return; but she abstained
from putting the question, with a delicacy that would have
done honor to the highest civilization; nor did she once
frame any other inquiry in a way to lead indirectly to a
betrayal of the much-desired information on that particu-
lar point: though when Mabel of her own accord touched
on any matter that might by possibility throw a light on
the subject, she listened with an intentness which almost
suspended respiration.

In this manner the hours passed away unheeded, for
both were too much interested to think of rest.  Nature
asserted her rights, however, towards morning; and Mabel
was persuaded to lie down on one of the straw beds pro-
vided for the soldiers, where she soon fell into a deep sleep.
June lay near her and a quiet reigned on the whole island
as profound as if the dominion of the forest had never
been invaded by man.

When Mabel awoke the light of the sun was streaming
in through the loopholes, and she found that the day was
considerably advanced.  June still lay near her, sleeping
as tranquilly as if she reposed on -- we will not say
"down," for the superior civilization of our own times re-
pudiates the simile -- but on a French mattress, and as pro-
foundly as if she had never experienced concern.  The
movements of Mabel, notwithstanding, soon awakened one
so accustomed to vigilance; and then the two took a sur-
vey of what was passing around them by means of the
friendly apertures.



CHAPTER XXIII.

What had the Eternall Maker need of thee,
The world in his continuall course to keepe,
That doest all things deface? ne lettest see
The beautie of his worke?  Indeede in sleepe,
The slouth full body that doth love to steepe
His lustlesse limbs, and drowne his baser mind,
Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe,
Calles thee his goddesse, in his errour blind,
And great dame Nature's hand-maide, chearing every kinde.
_Faerie Queene._


The tranquillity of the previous night was not contra-
dicted by the movements of the day.  Although Mabel
and June went to every loophole, not a sign of the pres-
ence of a living being on the island was at first to be seen,
themselves excepted.  There was a smothered fire on the
spot where M'Nab and his comrades had cooked, as if the
smoke which curled upwards from it was intended as a
lure to the absent; and all around the huts had been re-
stored to former order and arrangement.  Mabel started
involuntarily when her eye at length fell on a group of
three men, dressed in the scarlet of the 55th, seated on the
grass in lounging attitudes, as if they chatted in listless
security; and her blood curdled as, on a second look, she
traced the bloodless faces and glassy eyes of the dead.
They were very near the blockhouse, so near indeed as to
have been overlooked at the first eager inquiry, and there
was a mocking levity in their postures and gestures, for
their limbs were stiffening in different attitudes, intended
to resemble life, at which the soul revolted.  Still, horri-
ble as these objects were to those near enough to discover
the frightful discrepancy between their assumed and their
real characters, the arrangement had been made with so
much art that it would have deceived a negligent observer
at the distance of a hundred yards.  After carefully ex-
amining the shores of the island, June pointed out to her
companion the fourth soldier, seated, with his feet hang-
ing over the water, his back fastened to a sapling, and
holding a fishing-rod in his hand.  The scalpless heads
were covered with the caps, and all appearance of blood
had been carefufly washed from each countenance.

Mabel sickened at this sight, which not only did so
much violence to all her notions of propriety, but which
was in itself so revolting and so opposed to natural feeling.
She withdrew to a seat, and hid her face in her apron for
several minutes, until a low call from June again drew her to
a loophole.  The latter then pointed out the body of Jen-
nie seemingly standing in the door of a hut, leaning for-
ward as if to look at the group of men, her cap fluttering
in the wind, and her hand grasping a broom.  The dis-
tance was too great to distinguish the features very accu-
rately; but Mabel fancied that the jaw had been depressed,
as if to distort the mouth into a sort of horrible laugh.

"June!  June!" she exclaimed; "this exceeds all I have
ever heard, or imagined as possible, in the treachery and
artifices of your people."

"Tuscarora very cunning," said June, in a way to show
that she rather approved of than condemned the uses to
which the dead bodies had been applied.  "Do soldier no
harm now; do Iroquois good; got the scalp first; now
make bodies work.  By and by, burn 'em.

This speech told Mabel how far she was separated from
her friend in character; and it was several minutes before
she could again address her.  But this temporary aversion
was lost on June, who set about preparing their simple
breakfast, in a way to show how insensible she was to feel-
ings in others which her own habits taught her to discard.
Mabel ate sparingly, and her companion as if nothing had
happened.  Then they had leisure again for their thoughts,
and for further surveys of the island.  Our heroine,
though devoured with a feverish desire to be always at the
loops, seldom went that she did not immediately quit them
in disgust, though compelled by her apprehensions to re-
turn again in a few minutes, called by the rustling of
leaves, or the sighing of the wind.  It was, indeed, a
solemn thing to look out upon that deserted spot, peopled
by the dead in the panoply of the living, and thrown into
the attitudes and acts of careless merriment and rude en-
joyment.  The effect on our heroine was much as if she
had found herself an observer of the revelries of demons.

Throughout the livelong day not an Indian nor a
Frenchman was to be seen, and night closed over the
frightful but silent masquerade, with the steady and unal-
terable progress with which the earth obeys her laws, in-
different to the petty actors and petty scenes that are in
daily bustle and daily occurrence on her bosom.  The
night was far more quiet than that which had preceded it,
and Mabel slept with an increasing confidence; for she
now felt satisfied that her own fate would not be decided
until the return of her father.  The following day he was
expected, however, and when our heroine awoke, she ran
eagerly to the loops in order to ascertain the state of the
weather and the aspect of the skies, as well as the condi-
tion of the island.  There lounged the fearful group on
the grass; the fisherman still hung over the water, seem-
ingly intent on his sport; and the distorted countenance
of Jennie glared from out the hut in horrible contortions.
But the weather had changed; the wind blew fresh from
the southward, and though the air was bland, it was filled
with the elements of storm.

"This grows more and more difficult to bear, June,"
Mabel said, when she left the window.  "I could even
prefer to see the enemy than to look any longer on this
fearful array of the dead."

"Hush! here they come.  June thought hear a cry like
a warrior's shout when he take a scalp."

"What mean you?  There is no more butchery! -- there
can be no more."

"Saltwater!" exclaimed June, laughing, as she stood
peeping through a loophole.

"My dear uncle!  Thank God! he then lives!  Oh,
June, June, _you_ will not let them harm _him?_"

"June, poor squaw.  What warrior t'ink of what she
say?  Arrowhead bring him here."

By this time Mabel was at a loop; and, sure enough,
there were Cap and the Quartermaster in the hands of the
Indians, eight or ten of whom were conducting them to
the foot of the block, for, by this capture, the enemy now
well knew that there could be no man in the building.
Mabel scarcely breathed until the whole party stood ranged
directly before the door, when she was rejoiced to see that
the French officer was among them.  A low conversation
followed, in which both the white leader and Arrowhead
spoke earnestly to their captives, when the Quartermaster
called out to her in a voice loud enough to be heard.

"Pretty Mabel! pretty Mabel!" said he; "look out of
one of the loopholes, and pity our condition.  We are
threatened with instant death uniess you open the door to
the conquerors.  Relent, then or we'll no' be wearing our
scalps half an hour from this blessed moment."

Mabel thought there were mockery and levity in this
appeal, and its manner rather fortified than weakened her
resolution to hold the place as long as possible.

"Speak to me, uncle," said she, with her mouth at a
loop, "and tell me what I ought to do."

"Thank God! thank God!" ejaculated Cap; "the
sound of your sweet voice, Magnet, lightens my heart of a
heavy load, for I feared you had shared the fate of poor
Jennie.  My breast has felt the last four-and-twenty hours
as if a ton of kentledge had been stowed in it.  You ask
me what you ought to do, child, and I do not know how
to advise you, though you are my own sister's daughter!
The most I can say just now, my poor girl, is most heartily
to curse the day you or I ever saw this bit of fresh water."

"But, uncle, is your life in danger -- do _you_ think I
ought to; open the door?"

"A round turn and two half-hitches make a fast belay;
and I would counsel no one who is out of the hands of
these devils to unbar or unfasten anything in order to fall
into them.  As to the Quartermhaster and myself, we are
both elderly men, and not of much account to mankind in
general, as honest Pathfinder would say; and it can make
no great odds to him whether he balances the purser's
books this year or the next; and as for myself, why, if I
were on the seaboard, I should know what to do, but up
here, in this watery wilderness, I can only say, that if I
were behind that bit of a bulwark, it would take a good
deal of Indian logic to rouse me out of it."

"You'll no' be minding all your uncle says, pretty
Mabel," put in Muir, "for distress is obviously fast unset-
tling his faculties, and he is far from calculating all the
necessities of the emergency.  We are in the hands here
of very considerate and gentlemanly pairsons, it must be
acknowledged, and one has little occasion to apprehend
disagreeable violence.  The casualties that have occurred
are the common incidents of war, and can no' change our
sentiments of the enemy, for they are far from indicating
that any injustice will be done the prisoners.  I'm sure
that neither Master Cap nor myself has any cause of com-
plaint since we have given ourselves up to Master Arrow-
head, who reminds me of a Roman or a Spartan by his
virtues and moderation; but ye'll be remembering that
usages differ, and that our scalps may be lawful sacrifices
to appease the manes of fallen foes, unless you save them
by capitulation."

"I shall do wiser to keep within the blockhouse until
the fate of the island is settled," returned Mabel.  "Our
enemies can feel no concern on account of one like me,
knowing that I can do them no harm, and I greatly prefer
to remain here as more befitting my sex and years."

"If nothing but your convenience were concerned,
Mabel, we should all cheerfully acquiesce in your wishes,
but these gentlemen fancy that the work will aid their
operations, and they have a strong desire to possess it.
To be frank with you, finding myself and your uncle in a
very peculiar situation, I acknowledge that, to avert con-
sequences, I have assumed the power that belongs to his
Majesty's commission, and entered into a verbal capitula-
tion, by which I have engaged to give up the blockhouse
and the whole island.  It is the fortune of war, and must
be submitted to; so open the door, pretty Mabel, forth-
with, and confide yourself to the care of those who know
how to treat beauty and virtue in distress.  There's no
courtier in Scotland more complaisant than this chief, or
who is more familiar with the laws of decorum."

"No leave blockhouse," muttered June, who stood at
Mabel's side, attentive to all that passed.  "Blockhouse
good -- got no scalp."

Our heroine might have yielded but for this appeal; for
it began to appear to her that the wisest course would be
to conciliate the enemy by concessions instead of exasper-
ating them by resistance.  They must know that Muir and
her uncle were in their power; that there was no man in
the building, and she fancied they might proceed to batter
down the door, or cut their way through the logs with
axes, if she obstinately refused to give them peaceable ad-
mission, since there was no longer any reason to dread the
rifle.  But the words of June induced her to hesitate, and
the earnest pressure of the hand and entreating looks of
her companion strengthened a resolution that was falter-
ing.

"No prisoner yet," whispered June; "let 'em make
prisoner before 'ey take prisoner -- talk big; June manage
'em."

Mabel now began to parley more resolutely with Muir,
for her uncle seemed disposed to quiet his conscience by
holding his tongue, and she plainly intimated that it was
not her intention to yield the building.

"You forget the capitulation, Mistress Mabel," said
Muir; "the honor of one of his Majesty's servants is con-
cerned, and the honor of his Majesty through his servant.
You will remeinber the finesse and delicacy that belong to
military honor?"

"I know enough, Mr. Muir, to understand that you have
no command in this expedition, and therefore can have no
right to yield the blockhouse; and I remember, moreover,
to have heard my dear father say that a prisoner loses all
his authority for the time being."

"Rank sophistry, pretty Mabel, and treason to the king,
as well as dishonoring his commission and discrediting
his name.  You'll no' be persevering in your intentions,
when your better judgment has had leisure to reflect and
to make conclusions on matters and circumstances."

"Ay," put in Cap, "this is a circumstance, and be d----d
to it!"

"No mind what'e uncle say," ejaculated June, who was
occupied in a far corner of the room.  "Blockhouse good
- got no scalp."

"I shall remain as I am, Mr. Muir, until I get some tid-
ings of my father.  He will return in the course of the
next ten days."

"Ah, Mabel, this artifice will no' deceive the enemy,
who, by means that would be unintelligible, did not our
suspicions rest on an unhappy young man with too much
plausibility, are familiar with all our doings and plans, and
well know that the sun will not set before the worthy Ser-
geant and his companions will be in their power.  Aweel!
Submission to Providence is truly a Christian virtue!"

"Mr. Muir, you appear to be deceived in the strength
of this work, and to fancy it weaker than it is.  Do you
desire to see what I can do in the way of defence, if so
disposed?"

"I dinna mind if I do," answered the Quartermaster,
who always grew Scotch as he grew interested.

"What do you think of that, then?  Look at the loop
of the upper story?"

As soon as Mabel had spoken, all eyes were turned up-
ward, and beheld the muzzle of a rifle cautiously thrust
through a hole, June having resorted again to a _ruse_ which
had already proved so successful.  The result did not dis-
appoint expectation.  No sooner did the Indians catch a
sight of the fatal weapon than they leaped aside, and in
less than a minute every man among them had sought a
cover.  The French officer kept his eye on the barrel of
the piece in order to ascertain that it was not pointed in
his particular direction, and he coolly took a pinch of
snuff.  As neither Muir nor Cap had anything to appre-
hend from the quarter in which the others were menaced,
they kept their ground.

"Be wise, my pretty Mabel, be wise!" exclaimed the
former; "and no' be provoking useless contention.  In the
name of all the kings of Albin, who have ye closeted with
you in that wooden tower that seemeth so bloody-minded?
There is necromancy about this matter, and all our char-
acters may be involved in the explanation."

"What do you think of the Pathfinder, Master Muir,
for a garrison to so strong a post?" cried Mabel, resorting
to an equivocation which the circumstances rendered very
excusable.  "What will your French and Indian compan-
ions think of the aim of the Pathfinder's rifle?"

"Bear gently on the unfortunate, pretty Mabel, and do
not confound the king's servants -- may Heaven bless him
and all his royal lineage! -- with the king's enemies.  If
Pathfinder be indeed in the blockhouse, let him speak, and
we will hold our negotiations directly with him.  He
knows us as friends, and we fear no evil at his hands, and
least of all to myself; for a generous mind is apt to render
rivalry in a certain interest a sure ground of respect and
amity, since admiration of the same woman proves a com-
munity of feeling and tastes."

The reliance on Pathfinder's friendship did not extend
beyond the Quartermaster and Cap, however, for even the
French officer, who had hitherto stood his ground so well,
shrank back at the sound of the terrible name.  So unwil-
ling, indeed, did this individual, a man of iron nerves, and
one long accustomed to the dangers of the peculiar war-
fare in which he was engaged, appear to remain exposed
to the assaults of Killdeer, whose reputation throughout
all that frontier was as well established as that of Marl-
borough in Europe, that he did not disdain to seek a cover,
insisting that his two prisoners should follow him.  Mabel
was too glad to be rid of her enemies to lament the depar-
ture of her friends, though she kissed her hand to Cap
through the loop, and called out to him in terms of affec-
tion as he moved slowly and unwillingly away.

The enemy now seemed disposed to abandon all attempts
on the blockhouse for the present; and June, who had
ascended to a trap in the roof, whence the best view was
to be obtained, reported that the whole party had assem-
bled to eat, on a distant and sheltered part of the island,
where Muir and Cap were quietly sharing in the good
things which were going, as if they had no concern on
their minds.  This information greatly relieved Mabel,
and she began to turn her thoughts again to the means of
effecting her own escape, or at least of letting her father
know of the danger that awaited him.  The Sergeant was
expected to return that afternoon, and she knew that a
moment gained or lost might decide his fate.

Three or four hours flew by.  The island was again
buried in a profound quiet, the day was wearing away, and
yet Mabel had decided on nothing.  June was in the base-
ment, preparing their frugal meal, and Mabel herself had
ascended to the roof, which was provided with a trap that
allowed her to go out on the top of the building, whence
she commanded the best view of surrounding objects that
the island possessed; still it was limited, and much ob-
structed by the tops of trees.  The anxious girl did not
dare to trust her person in sight, knowing well that the
unrestrained passions of some savage might induce him to
send a bullet through her brain.  She merely kept her
head out of the trap, therefore, whence, in the course of
the afternoon, she made as many surveys of the different
channels about the island as "Anne, sister Anne," took of
the environs of the castle of Blue Beard.

The sun had actually set; no intelligence had been re-
ceived from the boats, and Mabel ascended to the roof to
take a last look, hoping that the party would arrive in the
darkness; which would at least prevent the Indians from
rendering their ambuscade so fatal as it might otherwise
prove, and which possibly might enable her to give some
more intelligible signal, by means of fire, than it would
otherwise be in her power to do.  Her eye had turned
carefully round the whole horizon, and she was just on the
point of drawing in her person, when an object that struck
her as new caught her attention.  The islands lay grouped
so closely, that six or eight different channels or passages
between them were in view; and in one of the most cov-
ered, concealed in a great measure by the bushes of the
shore, lay what a second look assured her was a bark
canoe.  It contained a human being beyond a question.
Confident that if an enemy her signal could do no harm,
and; if a friend, that it might do good, the eager girl
waved a little flag towards the stranger, which she had
prepared for her father, taking care that it should not be
seen from the island.

Mabel had repeated her signal eight or ten times in
vain, and she began to despair of its being noticed, when a
sign was given in return by the wave of a paddle, and the
man so far discovered himself as to let her see it was
Chingachgook.  Here, then, at last, was a friend; one, too,
who was able, and she doubted not would be willing to aid
her.  From that instant her courage and her spirits re-
vived.  The Mohican had seen her; must have recognized
her, as he knew that she was of the party; and no doubt,
as soon as it was sufficiently dark, he would take the steps
necessary to release her.  That he was aware of the pres-
ence of the enemy was apparent by the great caution he
observed, and she had every reliance on his prudence and
address.  The principal difficulty now existed with June;
for Mabel had seen too much of her fidelity to her own
people, relieved as it was by sympathy for herself, to believe
she would consent to a hostile Indian's entering the
blockhouse, or indeed to her leaving it, with a view to
defeat Arrowhead's plans.  The half-hour which succeeded
the discovery of the presence of the Great Serpent was the
most painful of Mabel Dunham's life.  She saw the means
of effecting all she wished, as it might be within reach of
her hand, and yet it eluded her grasp.  She knew June's
decision and coolness, notwithstanding all her gentleness
and womanly feeling; and at last she came reluctantly to
the conclusion that there was no other way of attaining
her end than by deceiving her tried companion and pro-
tector.  It was revolting to one so sincere and natural, so
pure of heart, and so much disposed to ingenuousness as
Mabel Dunham, to practise deception on a friend like
June; but her own father's life was at stake, her compan-
ion would receive no positive injury, and she had feelings
and interests directly touching herself which would have
removed greater scruples.

As soon as it was dark, Mabel's heart began to beat with
increased violence; and she adopted and changed her plan
of proceeding at least a dozen times in a single hour.
June was always the source of her greatest embarrassment;
for she did not well see, first, how she was to ascertain
when Chingachgook was at the door, where she doubted
not he would soon appear; and, secondly, how she was to
admit him, without giving the alarm to her watchful com-
panion.  Time pressed, however; for the Mohican might
come and go away again, unless she was ready to receive
him.  It would be too hazardous to the Delaware to re-
main long on the island; and it became absolutely neces-
sary to determine on some course, even at the risk of
choosing one that was indiscreet.  After running over
various projects in her mind, therefore, Mabel came to her
companion, and said, with as much calmness as she could
assume, --

"Are you not afraid, June, now your people believe
Pathfinder is in the blockhouse, that they will come and
try to set it on fire?"

"No t'ink such t'ing.  No burn blockhouse.  Block-
house good; got no scalp."

"June, we cannot know.  They hid because they be-
lieved what I told them of Pathfinder's being with us."

"Believe fear.  Fear come quick, go quick.  Fear make
run away; wit make come back.  Fear make warrior fool,
as well as young girl."

Here June laughed, as her sex is apt to laugh when any-
thing particularly ludicrous crosses their youthful fancies.

"I feel uneasy, June; and wish you yourself would go
up again to the roof and look out upon the island, to
make certain that nothing is plotting against us; you
know the signs of what your people intend to do better
than I."

"June go, Lily wish; but very well know that Indian
sleep; wait for 'e fader.  Warrior eat, drink, sleep, all
time, when don't fight and go on war-trail.  Den never
sleep, eat, drink -- never feel.  Warrior sleep now."

"God send it may be so! but go up, dear June, and look
well about you.  Danger may come when we least expect
it."

June arose, and prepared to ascend to the roof; but she
paused, with her foot on the first round of the ladder.
Mabel's heart beat so violently that she was fearful its
throbs would be heard; and she fancied that some gleam-
ings of her real intentions had crossed the mind of her
friend.  She was right in part, the Indian woman having
actually stopped to consider whether there was any indis-
cretion in what she was about to do.  At first the suspic-
ion that Mabel intended to escape flashed across her mind;
then she rejected it, on the ground that the pale-face had
no means of getting off the island, and that the block-
house was much the most secure place she could find.
The next thought was, that Mabel had detected some sign
of the near approach of her father.  This idea, too, lasted
but an instant; for June entertained some such opinion of
her companion's ability to understand symptoms of this
sort -- symptoms that had escaped her own sagacity -- as a
woman of high fashion entertains of the accomplishments
of her maid.  Nothing else in the same way offering, she
began slowly to mount the ladder.

Just as she reached the upper floor, a lucky thought
suggested itself to our heroine; and, by expressing it in a
hurried but natural manner, she gained a great advantage
in executing her projected scheme.

"I will go down," she said, "and listen by the door,
June, while you are on the roof; and we will thus be on
our guard, at the same time, above and below."

Though June thought this savored of unnecessary cau-
tion, well knowing that no one could enter the building
unless aided from within, nor any serious danger menace
them from the exterior without giving sufficient warning,
she attributed the proposition to Mabel's ignorance and
alarm; and, as it was made apparently with frankness, it
was received without distrust.  By these means our hero-
ine was enabled to descend to the door, as her friend as-
cended to the roof.  The distance between the two was
now too great to admit of conversation; and for three or
four minutes one was occupied in looking about her as
well as the darkness would allow, and the other in listen-
ing at the door with as much intentness as if all her senses
were absorbed in the single faculty of hearing.

June discovered nothing from her elevated stand; the
obscurity indeed almost forbade the hope of such a result;
but it would not be easy to describe the sensation with
which Mabel thought she perceived a slight and guarded
push against the door.  Fearful that all might not be as
she wished, and anxious to let Chingachgook know that
she was near, she began, though in tremulous and low
notes, to sing.  So profound was the stillness of the
moment that the sound of the unsteady warbling ascended
to the roof and in a minute June began to descend.  A
slight tap at the door was heard immediately after.  Mabel
was bewildered, for there was no time to lose.  Hope
proved stronger than fear; and with unsteady hands she
commenced unbarring the door.  The moccassin of June
was heard on the floor above her when only a single bar
was turned.  The second was released as her form reached
half-way down the lower ladder.

"What you do?" exclaimed June angrily.  "Run away
- mad -- leave blockhouse; blockhouse good."  The hands
of both were on the last bar, and it would have been
cleared from the fastenings but for a vigorous shove from
without, which jammed the wood.  A short struggle
ensued, though both were disinclined to violence.  June
would probably have prevailed, had not another and a
more vigorous push from without forced the bar past the
trifling impediment that held it, when the door opened.
The form of a man was seen to enter; and both the
females rushed up the ladder, as if equally afraid of the
consequences.  The stranger secured the door; and, first
examining the lower room with great care, he cautiously
ascended the ladder.  June, as soon as it became dark,
had closed the loops of the principal floor, and lighted a
candle.  By means of this dim taper, then, the two
females stood in expectation, waiting to ascertain the per-
son of their visitor, whose wary ascent of the ladder was
distinctly audible, though sufficiently deliberate.  It would
not be easy to say which was the more astonished on find-
ing, when the stranger had got through the trap, that
Pathfinder stood before them.

"God be praised!" Mabel exclaimed, for the idea that
the blockhouse would be impregnable with such a garrison
at once crossed her mind.  "O Pathfinder! what has be-
come of my father?"

"The Sergeant is safe as yet, and victorious; though it
is not in the gift of man to say what will be the ind of it.
Is not that the wife of Arrowhead skulking in the corner
there?"

"Speak not of her reproachfully, Pathfinder; I owe her
my life, my present security.  Tell me what has happened
to my father's party -- why you are here; and I will relate
all the horrible events that have passed upon this island."

"Few words will do the last, Mabel; for one used to
Indian devilries needs but little explanations on such a
subject.  Everything turned out as we had hoped with
the expedition; for the Sarpent was on the look-out, and
he met us with all the information heart could desire.
We ambushed three boats, druv' the Frenchers out of
them, got possession and sunk them, according to orders,
in the deepest part of the channel; and the savages of
Upper Canada will fare badly for Indian goods this win-
ter.  Both powder and ball, too, will be scarcer among
them than keen hunters and active warriors may relish.
We did not lose a man or have even a skin barked; nor do
I think the inimy suffered to speak of.  In short, Mabel,
it has been just such an expedition as Lundie likes; much
harm to the foe, and little harm to ourselves."

"Ah, Pathfinder, I fear, when Major Duncan comes to
hear the whole of the sad tale, he will find reason to regret
he ever undertook the affair."

"I know what you mean, I know what you mean; but
by telling my story straight you will understand it better.
As soon as the Sergeant found himself successful, he sent
me and the Sarpent off in canoes to tell you how matters
had turned out, and he is following with the two boats,
which, being so much heavier, cannot arrive before morn-
ing.  I parted from Chingachgook this forenoon, it being
agreed that he should come up one set of channels, and I
another, to see that the path was clear.  I've not seen the
chief since."

Mabel now explained the manner in which she had dis-
covered the Mohican, and her expectation that he would
yet come to the blockhouse.

"Not he, not he!  A regular scout will never get behind
walls or logs so long as he can keep the open air and find
useful employment.  I should not have come myself,
Mabel, but I promised the Sergeant to comfort you and to
look after your safety.  Ah's me!  I reconnoitred the
island with a heavy heart this forenoon; and there was a
bitter hour when I fancied you might be among the slain."

"By what lucky accident were you prevented from pad-
dling up boldly to the island and from falling into the
hands of the enemy?"

"By such an accident, Mabel, as Providence employs to
tell the hound where to find the deer and the deer how to
throw off the hound.  No, no! these artifices and devil-
ries with dead bodies may deceive the soldiers of the 55th
and the king's officers; but they are all lost upon men
who have passed their days in the forest.  I came down
the channel in face of the pretended fisherman; and,
though the riptyles have set up the poor wretch with art,
it was not ingenious enough to take in a practysed eye.
The rod was held too high, for the 55th have learned to
fish at Oswego, if they never knew how before; and then
the man was too quiet for one who got neither prey nor
bite.  But we never come in upon a post blindly; and I
have lain outside a garrison a whole night, because they
had changed their sentries and their mode of standing
guard.  Neither the Sarpent nor myself would be likely to
be taken in by these clumsy contrivances, which were most
probably intended for the Scotch, who are cunning enough
in some particulars, though anything but witches when
Indian sarcumventions are in the wind."

"Do you think my father and his men may yet be de-
ceived?" said Mabel quickly.

"Not if I can prevent it, Mabel.  You say the Sarpent
is on the look-out too; so there is a double chance of our
succeeding in letting him know his danger; though it is
by no means sartain by which channel the party may
come."

"Pathfinder," said our heroine solemnly, for the fright-
ful scenes she had witnessed had clothed death with un-
usual horrors, -- "Pathfinder, you have professed love for
me, a wish to make me your wife?"

"I did ventur' to speak on that subject, Mabel, and the
Sergeant has even lately said that you are kindly disposed;
but I am not a man to persecute the thing I love."

"Hear me, Pathfinder, I respect you, honor you, revere
you; save my father from this dreadful death, and I can
worship you.  Here is my hand, as a solemn pledge for
my faith, when you come to claim it."

"Bless you, bless you, Mabel; this is more than I desarve
- more, I fear, than I shall know how to profit by as I
ought.  It was not wanting, however, to make me sarve
the Sergeant.  We are old comrades, and owe each other
a life; though I fear me, Mabel, being a father's comrade
is not always the best recommendation with a daughter."

"You want no other recommendation than your own
acts -- your courage, your fidelity.  All that you do and
say, Pathfinder, my reason approves, and the heart will,
nay, it _shall_ follow."

"This is a happiness I little expected this night; but
we are in God's hands, and He will protect us in His own
way.  These are sweet words, Mabel; but they were not
wanting to make me do all that man can do in the present
circumstances; they will not lessen my endeavors,
neither."

"Now we understand each other, Pathfinder," Mabel
added hoarsely, "let us not lose one of the precious mo-
ments, which may be of incalculable value.  Can we not
get into your canoe and go and meet my father?"

"That is not the course I advise.  I don't know by
which channel the Sergeant will come, and there are
twenty; rely on it, the Sarpent will be winding his way
through them all.  No, no! my advice is to remain here.
The logs of this blockhouse are still green, and it will not
be easy to set them on fire; and I can make good the
place, bating a burning, ag'in a tribe.  The Iroquois nation
cannot dislodge me from this fortress, so long as we can
keep the flames off it.  The Sergeant is now 'camped on
some island, and will not come in until morning.  If we
hold the block, we can give him timely warning, by firing
rifles, for instance; and should he determine to attack the
savages, as a man of his temper will be very likely to do,
the possession of this building will be of great account in
the affair.  No, no! my judgment says remain, if the ob-
ject be to sarve the Sergeant, though escape for our two
selves will be no very difficult matter."

"Stay," murmured Mabel, "stay, for God's sake, Path-
finder!  Anything, everything to save my father!"

"Yes, that is natur'.  I am glad to hear you say this,
Mabel, for I own a wish to see the Sergeant fairly sup-
ported.  As the matter now stands, he has gained himself
credit; and, could he once drive off these miscreants, and
make an honorable retreat, laying the huts and block in
ashes, no doubt, Lundie would remember it and sarve him
accordingly.  Yes, yes, Mabel, we must not only save the
Sergeant's life, but we must save his reputation."

"No blame can rest on my father on account of the sur-
prise of this island."

"There's no telling, there's no telling; military glory is
a most unsartain thing.  I've seen the Delawares routed,
when they desarved more credit than at other times when
they've carried the day.  A man is wrong to set his head
on success of any sort, and worst of all on success in war.
I know little of the settlements, or of the notions that
men hold in them; but up hereaway even the Indians rate
a warrior's character according to his luck.  The principal
thing with a soldier is never to be whipt; nor do I think
mankind stops long to consider how the day was won or
lost.  For my part, Mabel, I make it a rule when facing
the inimy to give him as good as I can send, and to try to
be moderate after a defeat, little need be said on that
score, as a flogging is one of the most humbling things in
natur'.  The parsons preach about humility in the garri-
son; but if humility would make Christians, the king's
troops ought to be saints, for they've done little as yet this
war but take lessons from the French, beginning at Fort
du Quesne and ending at Ty."

"My father could not have suspected that the position
of the island was known to the enemy," resumed Mabel,
whose thoughts were running on the probable effect of the
recent events on the Sergeant.

"That is true; nor do I well see how the Frenchers
found it out.  The spot is well chosen, and it is not an
easy matter, even for one who has travelled the road to
and from it, to find it again.  There has been treachery, I
fear; yes, yes, there must have been treachery."

"Oh, Pathfinder! can this be?"

"Nothing is easier, Mabel, for treachery comes as nat'ral
to some men as eating.  Now when I find a man all fair
words I look close to his deeds; for when the heart is right,
and really intends to do good, it is generally satisfied to let
the conduct speak instead of the tongue."

"Jasper Western is not one of these," said Mabel impet-
uously.  "No youth can be more sincere in his manner, or
less apt to make the tongue act for the head."

"Jasper Western! tongue and heart are both right with
that lad, depend on it, Mabel; and the notion taken up by
Lundie, and the Quartermaster, and the Sergeant, and
your uncle too, is as wrong as it would be to think that
the sun shone by night and the stars shone by day.  No,
no; I'll answer for Eau-douce's honesty with my own
scalp, or, at need, with my own rifle."

"Bless you, bless you, Pathfinder!" exclaimed Mabel,
extending her own hand and pressing the iron fingers of
her companion, under a state of feeling that far sur-
passed her own consciousness of its strength.  "You are
all that is generous, all that is noble!  God will reward you
for it."

"Ah, Mabel, I fear me, if this be true, I should not covet
such a wife as yourself; but would leave you to be sued
for by some gentleman of the garrison, as your desarts
require."

"We will not talk of this any more to-night," Mabel
answered in a voice so smothered as to seem nearly choked.
"We must think less of ourselves just now, Pathfinder,
and more of our friends.  But I rejoice from my soul that
you believe Jasper innocent.  Now let us talk of other
things -- ought we not to release June?"

"I've been thinking about the woman; for it will not
be safe to shut our eyes and leave hers open, on this side
of the blockhouse door.  If we put her in the upper room,
and take away the ladder, she'll be a prisoner at least."

"I cannot treat one thus who has saved my life.  It
would be better to let her depart, for I think she is too
much my friend to do anything to harm me."

"You do not know the race, Mabel, you do not know
the race.  It's true she's not a full-blooded Mingo, but she
consorts with the vagabonds, and must have larned some
of their tricks.  What is that?"

"It sounds like oars; some boat is passing through the
channel."

Pathfinder closed the trap that led to the lower room,
to prevent June from escaping, extinguished the candle,
and went hastily to a loop, Mabel looking over his shoulder
in breathless curiosity.  These several movements con-
sumed a minute or two; and by the time the eye of the
scout had got a dim view of things without, two boats had
swept past and shot up to the shore, at a spot some fifty
yards beyond the block, where there was a regular landing.
The obscurity prevented more from being seen; and Path-
finder whispered to Mabel that the new-comers were as
likely to be foes as friends, for he did not think her father
could possibly have arrived so soon.  A number of men
were now seen to quit the boats, and then followed three
hearty English cheers, leaving no further doubts of the
character of the party.  Pathfinder sprang to the trap,
raised it, glided down the ladder, and began to unbar the
door, with an earnestness that proved how critical he
deemed the moment.  Mabel had followed, but she rather
impeded than aided his exertions, and but a single bar
was turned when a heavy discharge of rifles was heard.
They were still standing in breathless suspense, as the
war-whoop rang in all the surrounding thickets.  The
door now opened, and both Pathfinder and Mabel rushed
into the open air.  All human sounds had ceased.  After
listening half a minute, however, Pathfinder thought he
heard a few stifled groans near the boats; but the wind
blew so fresh, and the rustling of the leaves mingled so
much with the murmurs of the passing air, that he was far
from certain.  But Mabel was borne away by her feel-
ings, and she rushed by him, taking the way towards the
boats.

"This will not do, Mabel," said the scout in an earnest
but low voice, seizing her by an arm; "this will never do.
Sartain death would follow, and that without sarving any
one.  We must return to the block."

"Father! my poor, dear, murdered father!" said the
girl wildly, though habitual caution, even at that trying
moment, induced her to speak low.  "Pathfinder, if you
love me, let me go to my dear father."

"This will not do, Mabel.  It is singular that no one
speaks; no one returns the fire from the boats; and I have
left Killdeer in the block!  But of what use would a rifle
be when no one is to be seen?"

At that moment the quick eye of Pathfinder, which,
whiel he held Mabel firmly in his grasp, had never ceased
to roam over the dim scene, caught an indistinct view of
five or six dark crouching forms, endeavoring to steal past
him, doubtless with the intention of intercepting the re-
treat to the blockhouse.  Catching up Mabel, and putting
her under an arm, as if she were an infant, the sinewy
frame of the woodsman was exerted to the utmost, and he
succeeded in entering the building.  The tramp of his
pursuers seemed immediately at his heels.  Dropping his
burden, he turned, closed the door, and had fastened one
bar, as a rush against the solid mass threatened to force it
from the hinges.  To secure the other bars was the work
of an instant.

Mabel now ascended to the first floor, while Pathfinder
remained as a sentinel below.  Our heroine was in that
state in which the body exerts itself, apparently without
the control of the mind.  She relighted the candle me-
chanically, as her companion had desired, and returned
with it below, where he was waiting her reappearance.  No
sooner was Pathfinder in possession of the light than he
examined the place carefully, to make certain no one was
concealed in the fortress, ascending to each floor in suc-
cession, after assuring himself that he left no enemy in his
rear.  The result was the conviction that the blockhouse
now contained no one but Mabel and himself, June having
escaped.  When perfectly convinced on this material point,
Pathfinder rejoined our heroine in the principal apart-
ment, setting down the light and examining the priming
of Killdeer before he seated himself.

"Our worst fears are realized!" said Mabel, to whom
the hurry and excitement of the last five minutes appeared
to contain the emotions of a life.  "My beloved father and
all his party are slain or captured!"

"We don't know that -- morning will tell us all.  I do
not think the affair so settled as that, or we should hear
the vagabond Mingos yelling out their triumph around
the blockhouse.  Of one thing we may be sartain; if the
inimy has really got the better, he will not be long in call-
ing upon us to surrender.  The squaw will let him into
the secret of our situation; and, as they well know the
place cannot be fired by daylight, so long as Killdeer con-
tinues to desarve his reputation, you may depend on it that
they will not be backward in making their attempt while
darkness helps them."

"Surely I hear a groan!"

"'Tis fancy, Mabel; when the mind gets to be skeary,
especially a woman's mind, she often concaits things that
have no reality.  I've known them that imagined there was
truth in dreams."

"Nay, I am _not_ deceived; there is surely one below, and
in pain."

Pathfinder was compelled to own that the quick senses
of Mabel had not deceived her.  He cautioned her, how-
ever, to repress her feelings; and reminded her that the
savages were in the practice of resorting to every artifice
to attain their ends, and that nothing was more likely than
that the groans were feigned with a view to lure them from
the blockhouse, or, at least, to induce them to open the
door.

"No, no, no!" said Mabel hurriedly; "there is no arti-
fice in those sounds, and they come from anguish of body,
if not of spirit.  They are fearfully natural."

"Well, we shall soon know whether a friend is there or
not.  Hide the light again, Mabel, and I will speak the
person from a loop."

Not a little precaution was necessary, according to Path-
finder's judgment and experience, in performing even this
simple act; for he had known the careless slain by their
want of proper attention to what might have seemed to
the ignorant supererogatory means of, safety.  He did not
place his mouth to the loop itself, but so near it that he
could be heard without raising his voice, and the same
precaution was observed as regards his ear.

"Who is below?" Pathfinder demanded, when his ar-
rangements were made to his mind.  "Is any one in suf-
fering?  If a friend, speak boldly, and depend on our aid."

"Pathfinder!" answered a voice that both Mabel and
the person addressed at once knew to be the Sergeant's, --
"Pathfinder, in the name of God, tell me what has become
of my daughter."

"Father, I am here, unhurt, safe! and oh that I could
think the same of you!"

The ejaculation of thanksgiving that followed was dis-
tinctly audible to the two, but it was clearly mingled with,
a groan of pain.

"My worst forebodings are realized!" said Mabel with
a sort of desperate calmness.  "Pathfinder, my father must
be brought within the block, though we hazard everything
to do it."

"This is natur', and it is the law of God.  But, Mabel,
be calm, and endivor to be cool.  All that can be effected
for the Sergeant by human invention shall be done.  I
only ask you to be cool."

"I am, I am, Pathfinder.  Never in my life was I more
calm, more collected, than at this moment.  But remem-
ber how perilous may be every instant; for Heaven's sake,
what we do, let us do without delay."

Pathfinder was struck with the firmnesss of Mabel's
tones, and perhaps he was a little deceived by the forced
tranquillity and self-possession she had assumed.  At all
events, he did not deem any further explanations neces-
sary, but descended forthwith, and began to unbar the
door.  This delicate process was conducted with the usual
caution, but, as he warily permitted the mass of timber to
swing back on the hinges, he felt a pressure against it, that
had nearly induced him to close it again.  But, catching a
glimpse of the cause through the crack, the door was per-
mitted to swing back, when the body of Sergeant Dunham,
which was propped against it, fell partly within the block.
To draw in the legs and secure the fastenings occupied the
Pathfinder but a moment.  Then there existed no obstacle
to their giving their undivided care to the wounded man.

Mabel, in this trying scene, conducted herself with the
sort of unnatural energy that her sex, when aroused, is apt
to manifest.  She got the light, administered water to the
parched lips of her father, and assisted Pathfinder in form-
ing a bed of straw for his body and a pillow of clothes for
his head.  All this was done earnestly, and almost without
speaking; nor did Mabel shed a tear, until she heard the
blessings of her father murmured on her head for this
tenderness and care.  All this time Mabel had merely con-
jectured the condition of her parent.  Pathfinder, how-
ever, had shown greater attention to the physical danger
of the Sergeant.  He had ascertained that a rifle-ball had
passed through the body of the wounded man; and he was
sufficiently familiar with injuries of this nature to be cer-
tain that the chances of his surviving the hurt were very
trifling, if any.



CHAPTER XXIV.

Then drink my tears, while yet they fall --
Would that my bosom's blood were balm;
And -- well thou knowest -- I'd shed it all,
To give thy brow one minute's calm.
MOORE.


The eyes of Sergeant Dunham had not ceased to follow
the form of his beautiful daughter from the moment that
the light appeared.  He next examined the door of the
block, to ascertain its security; for he was left on the
ground below, there being no available means of raising
him to the upper floor.  Then he sought the face of Mabel;
for as life wanes fast the affections resume their force, and
we begin to value that most which we feel we are about to
lose for ever.

"God be praised, my child! you, at least, have escaped
their murderous rifles," he said; for he spoke with
strength, and seemingly with no additional pain.  "Give
me the history of this sad business, Pathfinder."

"Ah's me, Sergeant! it _has_ been sad, as you say.  That
there has been treachery, and the position of the island
has been betrayed, is now as sartain, in my judgment, as
that we still hold the block.  But -- "

"Major Duncan was right," interrupted Dunham, laying
a hand on the other's arm.

"Not in the sense you mean, Sergeant -- no, not in that
p'int of view; never!  At least, not in my opinion.  I
know that natur' is weak -- human natur', I mean -- and
that we should none of us vaunt of our gifts, whether red
or white; but I do not think a truer-hearted lad lives on
the lines than Jasper Western."

"Bless you! bless you for that, Pathfinder!" burst forth
from Mabel's very soul, while a flood of tears gave vent to
emotions that were so varied while they were so violent.
"Oh, bless you, Pathfinder, bless you!  The brave should
never desert the brave -- the honest should sustain the
honest."

The father's eyes were fastened anxiously on the face
of his daughter, until the latter hid her countenance in
her apron to conceal her tears; and then they turned with
inquiry to the hard features of the guide.  The latter
merely wore their usual expression of frankness, sincerity,
and uprightness; and the Sergeant motioned to him to
proceed.

"You know the spot where the Sarpent and I left you,
Sergeant," Pathfinder resumed; "and I need say nothing
of all that happened afore.  It is now too late to regret
what is gone and passed; but I do think if I had stayed
with the boats this would not have come to pass.  Other
men may be as good guides -- I make no doubt they are;
but then natur' bestows its gifts, and some must be better
than other some.  I daresay poor Gilbert, who took my
place, has suffered for his mistake."

"He fell at my elbow," the Sergeant answered in a low
melancholy tone.  "We have, indeed, all suffered for our
mistakes."

"No, no, Sergeant, I meant no condemnation on you;
for men were never better commanded than yourn, in this
very expedition.  I never beheld a prettier flanking; and
the way in which you carried your own boat up ag'in their
howitzer might have teached Lundie himself a lesson."

The eyes of the Sergeant brightened, and his face even
wore an expression of military triumph, though it was of
a degree that suited the humble sphere in which he had
been an actor.

"'Twas not badly done, my friend," said he; "and we
carried their log breastwork by storm."

"'Twas nobly done, Sergeant; though, I fear, when all
the truth comes to be known, it will be found that these
vagabonds have got their howitzer back ag'in.  Well, well,
put a stout heart upon it, and try to forget all that is dis-
agreeable, and to remember only the pleasant part of the
matter.  That is your truest philosophy; ay, and truest
religion too.  If the inimy has got the howitzer ag'in,
they've only got what belonged to them afore, and what
we couldn't help.  They haven't got the blockhouse yet,
nor are they likely to get it, unless they fire it in the dark.
Well, Sergeant, the Sarpent and I separated about ten
miles down the river; for we thought it wisest not to come
upon even a friendly camp without the usual caution.
What has become of Chingachgook I cannot say; though
Mabel tells me he is not far off, and I make no question
the noble-hearted Delaware is doing his duty, although he
is not now visible to our eyes.  Mark my word, Sergeant,
before this matter is over we shall hear of him at some
critical time and that in a discreet and creditable manner.
Ah, the Sarpent is indeed a wise and virtuous chief! and
any white man might covet his gifts, though his rifle is
not quite as sure as Killdeer, it must be owned.  Well, as
I came near the island I missed the smoke, and that put
me on my guard; for I knew that the men of the 55th
were not cunning enough to conceal that sign, notwith-
standing all that has been told them of its danger.  This
made me more careful, until I came in sight of this mock-
fisherman, as I've just told Mabel; and then the whole of
their infernal arts was as plain before me as if I saw it on
a map.  I need not tell you, Sergeant, that my first
thoughts were of Mabel; and that, finding she was in the
block, I came here, in order to live or die in her company."

The father turned a gratified look upon his child; and
Mabel felt a sinking of the heart that at such a moment
she could not have thought possible, when she wished to
believe all her concern centred in the situation of her
parent.  As the latter held out his hand, she took it in her
own and kissed it.  Then, kneeling at his side, she wept
as if her heart would break.

"Mabel," said he steadily, "the will of God must be
done.  It is useless to attempt deceiving either you or my-
self; my time has come, and it is a consolation to me to
die like a soldier.  Lundie will do me justice; for our good
friend Pathfinder will tell him what has been done, and
how all came to pass.  You do not forget our last con-
versation?"

"Nay, father, my time has probably come too," exclaimed
Mabel, who felt just then as if it would be a relief to die.
"I cannot hope to escape; and Pathfinder would do well
to leave us, and return to the garrison with the sad news
while he can."

"Mabel Dunham," said Pathfinder reproachfully, though
he took her hand with kindness, "I have not desarved this.
I know I am wild, and uncouth, and ungainly -- "

"Pathfinder!"

"Well, well, we'll forget it; you did not mean it, you
could not think it.  It is useless now to talk of escaping,
for the Sergeant cannot be moved; and the blockhouse
must be defended, cost what it will.  Maybe Lundie will
get the tidings of our disaster, and send a party to raise
the siege."

"Pathfinder -- Mabel!" said the Sergeant, who had been
writhing with pain until the cold sweat stood on his fore-
head; "come both to my side.  You understand each
other, I hope?"

"Father, say nothing of that; it is all as you wish."

"Thank God!  Give me your hand, Mabel -- here, Path-
finder, take it.  I can do no more than give you the girl
in this way.  I know you will make her a kind husband.
Do not wait on account of my death; but there will be a
chaplain in the fort before the season closes, and let him
marry you at once.  My brother, if living, will wish.to go
back to his vessel, and then the child will have no pro-
tector.  Mabel, your husband will have been my friend,
and that will be some consolation to you, I hope."

"Trust this matter to me, Sergeant," put in Pathfinder;
"leave it all in my hands as your dying request; and, de-
pend on it, all will go as it should."

"I do, I do put all confidence in you, my trusty friend,
and empower you to act as I could act myself in every
particular.  Mabel, child, -- hand me the water, -- you will
never repent this night.  Bless you, my daughter!  God
bless, and have you in His holy keeping!"

This tenderness was inexpressibly touching to one of
Mabel's feelings; and she felt at that moment as if her
feuture union with Pathfinder had received a solemnization
that no ceremony of the Church could render more holy.
Still, a weight, as that of a mountain, lay upon her heart,
and she thought it would be happiness to die.  Then fol-
lowed a short pause, when the Sergeant, in broken sen-
tences, briefly related what had passed since he parted
with Pathfinder and the Delaware.  The wind had come
more favorable; and, instead of encamping on an island
agreeably to the original intention, he had determined to
continue, and reach the station that night.  Their approach
would have been unseen, and a portion of the calamity
avoided, he thought, had they not grounded on the point
of a neighboring island, where, no doubt, the noise made
by the men in getting off the boat gave notice of their ap-
proach, and enabled the enemy to be in readiness to receive
them.  They had landed without the slightest suspicion of
danger, though surprised at not finding a sentinel, and had
actually left their arms in the boat, with the intention of
first securing their knapsacks and provisions.  The fire
had been so close, that, notwithstanding the obscurity, it
was very deadly.  Every man had fallen, though two or
three subsequently arose and disappeared.  Four or five of
the soldiers had been killed, or so nearly so as to survive
but a few minutes; though, for some unknown reason, the
enemy did not make the usual rush for the scalps.  Ser-
geant Dunham fell with the others; and he had heard the
voice of Mabel, as she rushed from the blockhouse.  This
frantic appeal aroused all his parental feelings, and had
enabled him to crawl as far as the door of the building,
where he had raised himself against the logs in the manner
already mentioned.

After this simple explanation was made, the Sergeant
was so weak as to need repose, and his companions, while
they ministered to his wants, suffered some time to pass in
silence.  Pathfinder took the occasion to reconnoitre from
the loops and the roof, and he examined the condition of
the rifles, of which there were a dozen kept in the build-
ing, the soldiers having used their regimental muskets in
the expedition.  But Mabel never left her father's side for
an instant; and when, by his breathing, she fancied he
slept, she bent her knees and prayed.

The half-hour that succeeded was awfully solemn and
still.  The moccasin of Pathfinder was barely heard over-
head, and occasionally the sound of the breech of a rifle
fell upon the floor, for he was busied in examining the
pieces, with a view to ascertain the state of their charges
and their primings.  Beyond this, nothing was so loud as
the breathing of the wounded man.  Mabel's heart yearned
to be in communication with the father she was so soon to
lose, and yet she would not disturb his apparent repose.
But Dunham slept not; he was in that state when the
world suddenly loses its attractious, its illusions, and its
power; and the unknown future fills the mind with its
conjectures, its revelations, and its immensity.  He had
been a moral man for one of his mode of life, but he had
thought little of this all-important moment.  Had the din
of battle been ringing in his ears, his martial ardor might
have endured to the end; but there, in the silence of that
nearly untenanted blockhouse, with no sound to enliven
him, no appeal to keep alive factitious sentiment, no hope
of victory to impel, things began to appear in their true
colors, and this state of being to be estimated at its just
value.  He would have given treasures for religious con-
solation, and yet he knew not where to turn to seek it.
He thought of Pathfinder, but he distrusted his knowl-
edge.  He thought of Mabel, but for the parent to appeal
to the child for such succor appeared like reversing the
order of nature.  Then it was that he felt the full re-
sponsibility of the parental character, and had some clear
glimpse of the manner in which he himself had discharged
the trust towards an orphan child.  While thoughts like
these were rising in his mind, Mabel, who watched the
slightest change in his breathing, heard a guarded knock
at the door.  Supposing it might be Chingachgook, she
rose, undid two of the bars, and held the third in her hand,
as she asked who was there.  The answer was in her uncle's
voice, and he implored her to give him instant admission.
Without an instant of hesitation, she turned the bar, and
Cap entered.  He had barely passed the opening, when
Mabel closed the door again, and secured it as before, for
practice had rendered her expert in this portion of her
duties.

The sturdy seaman, when he had made sure of the state
of his brother-in-law, and that Mabel, as well as himself,
was safe, was softened nearly to tears.  His own appear-
ance he explained by saying that he had been carelessly
guarded, under the impression that he and the Quarter-
master were sleeping under the fumes of liquor with which
they had been plied with a view to keep them quiet in the
expected engagement.  Muir had been left asleep, or seem-
ing to sleep; but Cap had run into the bushes on the
alarm of the attack, and having found Pathfinder's canoe,
had only succeeded, at that moment, in getting to the
blockhouse, whither he had come with the kind intent of
escaping with his niece by water.  It is scarcely necessary
to say that he changed his plan when he ascertained the
state of the Sergeant, and the apparent security of his
present quarters.

"If the worst comes to the worst, Master Pathfinder,"
said he, "we must strike, and that will entitle us to re-
ceive quarter.  We owe it to our manhood to hold out a
reasonable time, and to ourselves to haul down the ensign
in season to make saving conditions.  I wished Master
Muir to do the same thing when we were captured by these
chaps you call vagabonds -- and rightly are they named, for
viler vagabonds do not walk the earth -- "

"You've found out their characters?" interrupted
Pathfinder, who was always as ready to chime in with
abuse of the Mingos as with the praises of his friends.
"Now, had you fallen into the hands of the Delawares,
you would have learned the difference."

"Well, to me they seem much of a muchness; black-
guards fore and aft, always excepting our friend the Ser-
pent, who is a gentleman for an Indian.  But, when these
savages made the assault on us, killing Corporal M'Nab
and his men as if they had been so many rabbits, Lieuten-
ant Muir and myself took refuge in one of the holes of
this here island, of which there are so many among the
rocks, and there we remained stowed away like two leaguers
in a ship's hold, until we gave out for want of grub.  A
man may say that grub is the foundation of human nature.
I desired the Quartermaster to make terms, for we could
have defended ourselves for an hour or two in the place,
bad as it was; but he declined, on the ground that the
knaves wouldn't keep faith if any of them were hurt, and
so there was no use in asking them to.  I consented to
strike, on two principles; one, that we might be said to
have struck already, for running below is generally thought
to be giving up the ship; and the other, that we had an
enemy in our stomachs that was more formidable in his
attacks than the enemy on deck.  Hunger is a d----ble
circumstance, as any man who has lived on it eight-and-
forty hours will acknowledge."

"Uncle," said Mabel in a mournful voice and with an
expostulatory manner, "my poor father is sadly, sadly
hurt!"

"True, Magnet, true; I will sit by him, and do my best
at consolation.  Are the bars well fastened, girl? for on
such an occasion the mind should be tranquil and undis-
turbed."

"We are safe, I believe, from all but this heavy blow of
Providence."

"Well, then, Magnet, do you go up to the floor above
and try to compose yourself, while Pathfinder runs aloft
and takes a look-out from the cross-trees.  Your father
may wish to say something to me in private, and it may be
well to leave us alone.  These are solemn scenes, and in-
experienced people, like myself, do not always wish what
they say to be overheard."

Although the idea of her uncle's affording religious con-
solation by the side of a death-bed certainly never ob-
truded itself on the imagination of Mabel, she thought
there might be a propriety in the request with which she
was unacquainted, and she complied accordingly.  Path-
finder had already ascended to the roof to make his sur-
vey, and the brothers-in-law were left alone.  Cap took a
seat by the side of the Sergeant, and bethought him seri-
ously of the grave duty he had before him.  A silence of
several minutes succeeded, during which brief space the
mariner was digesting the substance of his intended dis-
course.

"I must say, Sergeant Dunham," Cap at length com-
menced in his peculiar manner, "that there has been mis-
management somewhere in this unhappy expedition; and,
the present being an occasion when truth ought to be
spoken, and nothing but the truth, I feel it my duty to be
say as much in plain language.  In short, Sergeant, on
this point there cannot well be two opinions; for, seaman
as I am, and no soldier, I can see several errors myself,
that it needs no great education to detect."

"What would you have, brother Cap?" returned the
other in a feeble voice; "what is done is done; and it is
now too late to remedy it."

"Very true, brother Dunham, but not to repent of it;
the Good Book tells us it is never too late to repent; and
I've, always neard that this is the precious moment.  If
you've anything on your mind, Sergeant, hoist it out freely;
for, you know, you trust it to a friend.  You were my own
sister's husband, and poor little Magnet is my own sister's
daughter; and, living or dead, I shall always look upon
you as a brother.  It's a thousand pities that you didn't
lie off and on with the boats, and send a canoe ahead to
reconnoitre; in which case your command would have
been saved, and this disaster would not have befallen us
all.  Well, Sergeant, we are _all_ mortal; that is some con-
solation, I make no doubt; and if you go before a little,
why, we must follow.  Yes, that _must_ give you consola-
tion."

"I know all this, brother Cap; and hope I'm prepared
to meet a soldier's fate -- there is poor Mabel -- "

"Ay, ay, that's a heavy drag, I know; but you wouldn't
take her with you if you could, Sergeant; and so the better
way is to make as light of the separation as you can.
Mabel is a good girl, and so was her mother before her;
she was my sister, and it shall be my care to see that her
daughter gets a good husband, if our lives and scalps are
spared; for I suppose no one would care about entering
into a family that has no scalps."

"Brother, my child is betrothed; she will become the
wife of Pathfinder."

"Well, brother Dunham, every man has his opinions
and his manner of viewing things; and, to my notion, this
match will be anything but agreeable to Mabel.  I have
no objection to the age of the man; I'm not one of them
that thinks it necessary to be a boy to make a girl happy,
but, on the whole, I prefer a man of about fifty for a hus-
band; still there ought not to be any circumstance be-
tween the parties to make them unhappy.  Circumstances
play the devil with matrimony, and I set it down as one
that Pathfinder don't know as much as my niece.  You've
seen but little of the girl, Sergeant, and have not got the
run of her knowledge; but let her pay it out freely, as she
will do when she gets to be thoroughly acquainted, and
you'll fall in with but few schoolmasters that can keep
their luffs in her company."

"She's a good child -- a dear, good child," muttered the
Sergeant, his eyes filling with tears; "and it is my mis-
fortune that I have seen so little of her."

"She is indeed a good girl, and knows altogether too
much for poor Pathfinder, who is a reasonable man and an
experienced man in his own way; but who has no more
idea of the main chance than you have of spherical trigo-
nometry, Sergeant."

"Ah, brother Cap, had Pathfinder been with us in the
boats this sad affair might not have happened!"

"That is quite likely; for his worst enemy will allow
that the man is a good guide; but then, Sergeant, if the
truth must be spoken, you have managed this expedition
in a loose way altogether.  You should have hove-to off
your haven, and sent in a boat to reconnoitre, as I told
you before.  That is a matter to be repented of? and I
tell it to you, because truth, in such a case, ought to be
spoken."

"My errors are dearly paid for, brother; and poor Mabel,
I fear, will be the sufferer.  I think, however, that the
calamity would not have happened had there not been
treason.  I fear me, brother, that Jasper Eau-douce has
played us false."

"That is just my notion; for this fresh-water life must
sooner or later undermine any man's morals.  Lieutenant
Muir and myself talked this matter over while we lay in a
bit of a hole out here, on this island; and we both came
to the conclusion that nothing short of Jasper's treachery
could have brought us all into this infernal scrape.  Well,
Sergeant, you had better compose your mind, and think
of other matters; for, when a vessel is about to enter a
strange port, it is more prudent to think of the anchorage
inside than to be under-running all the events that have
turned up during the v'y'ge.  There's the log-book ex-
pressly to note all these matters in; and what stands there
must form the column of figures that's to be posted up for
or against us.  How now, Pathfinder! is there anything in
the wind, that you come down the ladder like an Indian
in the wake of a scalp?"

The guide raised a finger for silence and then beckoned
to Cap to ascend the first ladder, and to allow Mabel to
take his place at the side of the Sergeant.

"We must be prudent, and we must be bold too," said
he in a low voice.  "The riptyles are in earnest in their
intention to fire the block; for they know there is now
nothing to be gained by letting it stand.  I hear the voice
of that vagabond Arrowhead among them, and he is urg-
ing them to set about their devilry this very night.  We
must be stirring, Saltwater, and doing too.  Luckily there
are four or five barrels of water in the block, and these are
something towards a siege.  My reckoning is wrong, too,
or we shall yet reap some advantage from that honest fel-
low's, the Sarpent, being at liberty."

Cap did not wait for a second invitation; but, stealing
away, he was soon in the upper room with Pathfinder,
while Mabel took his post at the side of her father's humble
bed.  Pathfinder had opened a loop, having so far con-
cealed the light that it would not expose him to a treacher-
ous shot; and, expecting a summons, he stood with his
face near the hole, ready to answer.  The stillness that
succeeded was at length broken by the voice of Muir.

"Master Pathfinder," called out the Scotchman, "a
friend summons you to a parley.  Come freely to one of
the loops; for you've nothing to fear so long as you are
in converse with an officer of the 55th."

"What is your will, Quartermaster? what is your will?
I know the 55th, and believe it to be a brave regiment;
though I rather incline to the 60th as my favorite, and to
the Delawares more than to either; but what would you
have, Quartermaster?  It must be a pressing errand that
brings you under the loops of a blockhouse at this hour of
the night, with the sartainty of Killdeer being inside of it."

"Oh, you'll no' harm a friend, Pathfinder, I'm certain;
and that's my security.  You're a man of judgment, and
have gained too great a name on this frontier for bravery
to feel the necessity of foolhardiness to obtain a character.
You'll very well understand, my good friend, there is as
much credit to be gained by submitting gracefully, when
resistance becomes impossible, as by obstinately holding
out contrary to the rules of war.  The enemy is too strong
for us, my brave comrade, and I come to counsel you to
give up the block, on condition of being treated as a pris-
oner of war."

"I thank you for this advice, Quartermaster, which is
the more acceptable as it costs nothing; but I do not
think it belongs to my gifts to yield a place like this while
food and water last."

"Well, I'd be the last, Pathfinder, to recommend any-
thing against so brave a resolution, did I see the means of
maintaining it.  But ye'll remember that Master Cap has
fallen."

"Not he, not he!" roared the individual in question
through another loop; "and so far from that, Lieutenant,
he has risen to the height of this here fortification, and
has no mind to put his head of hair into the hands of such
barbers again, so long as he can help it.  I look upon this
blockhouse as a circumstance, and have no mind to throw
it away."

"If that is a living voice," returned Muir, "I am glad
to hear it; for we all thought the man had fallen in the
late fearful confusion.  But, Master Pathfinder, although
ye're enjoying the society of our friend Cap, -- and a great
pleasure do I know it to be, by the experience of two days
and a night passed in a hole in the earth, -- we've lost that
of Sergeant Dunham, who has fallen, with all the brave
men he led in the late expedition.  Lundie would have it
so, though it would have been more discreet and becoming
to send a commissioned officer in command.  Dunham was
a brave man, notwithstanding, and shall have justice done
his memory.  In short, we have all acted for the best, and
that is as much as could be said in favor of Prince Eugene,
the Duke of Marlborough, or the great Earl of Stair him-
self."

"You're wrong ag'in, Quartermaster, you're wrong
ag'in," answered Pathfinder, resorting to a ruse to magnify
his force.  "The Sergeant is safe in the block too, where
one might say the whole family is collected."

"Well I rejoice to hear it, for we had certainly counted
the Sergeant among the slain.  If pretty Mabel is in the
block still, let her not delay an instant, for heaven's sake,
in quitting it, for the enemy is about to put it to the trial
by fire.  Ye know the potency of that dread element, and
will be acting more like the discreet and experienced war-
rior ye're universally allowed to be, in yielding a place you
canna' defend, than in drawing down ruin on yourself and
companions."

"I know the potency of fire, as you call it, Quarter-
master; and am not to be told, at this late hour, that it
can be used for something else besides cooking a dinner.
But I make no doubt you've heard of the potency of Kill-
deer, and the man who attempts to lay a pile of brush
against these logs will get a taste of his power.  As for
arrows, it is not in their gift to set this building on fire,
for we've no shingles on our roof, but good solid logs and
green bark, and plenty of water besides.  The roof is so
flat, too, as you know yourself, Quartermaster, that we can
walk on it, and so no danger on that score while water
lasts.  I'm peaceable enough if let alone; but he who en-
divors to burn this block over my head will find the fire
squinched in his own blood."

"This is idle and romantic talk, Pathfinder, and ye'll
no maintain it yourself when ye come to meditate on the
realities.  I hope ye'll no' gainsay the loyalty or the cour-
age of the 55th, and I feel convinced that a council of war
would decide on the propriety of a surrender forthwith.
Na, na, Pathfinder, foolhardiness is na mair like the brav-
ery o' Wallace or Bruce than Albany on the Hudson is like
the old town of Edinbro'."

"As each of us seems to have made up his mind, Quar-
termaster, more words are useless.  If the riptyles near
you are disposed to set about their hellish job, let them
begin at once.  They can burn wood, and I'll burn pow-
der.  If I were an Indian at the stake, I suppose I could
brag as well as the rest of them; but, my gifts and natur'
being both white, my turn is rather for doing than talk-
ing.  You've said quite enough, considering you carry the
king's commission; and should we all be consumed, none
of us will bear you any malice."

"Pathfinder, ye'll no' be exposing Mabel, pretty Mabel
Dunham, to sic' a calamity!"

"Mabel Dunham is by the side of her wounded father,
and God will care for the safety of a pious child.  Not a
hair, of her head shall fall, while my arm and sight remain
true; and though _you_ may trust the Mingos, Master Muir,
I put no faith in them.  You've a knavish Tuscarora in
your company there, who has art and malice enough to
spoil the character of any tribe with which he consorts,
though he found the Mingos ready ruined to his hands, I
fear.  But enough said; now let each party go to the use
of his means and his gifts."

Throughout this dialogue Pathfinder had kept his body
covered, lest a treacherous shot should be aimed at the
loop; and he now directed Cap to ascend to the roof in
order to be in readiness to meet the first assault.  Al-
though the latter used sufficient diligence, he found no
less than ten blazing arrows sticking to the bark, while
the air was filled with the yells and whoops of the enemy.
A rapid discharge of rifles followed, and the bullets came
pattering against the logs, in a way to show that the strug-
gle had indeed seriously commenced.

These were sounds, however, that appalled neither Path-
finder nor Cap, while Mabel was too much absorbed in her
affliction to feel alarm.  She had good sense enough, too,
to understand the nature of the defences, and fully to ap-
preciate their importance.  As for her father, the familiar
noises revived him; and it pained his child, at such a
moment, to see that his glassy eye began to kindle, and
that the blood returned to a cheek it had deserted, as he
listened to the uproar.  It was now Mabel first perceived
that his reason began slightly to wander.

"Order up the light companies," he muttered, "and let
the grenadiers charge!  Do they dare to attack us in our
fort?  Why does not the artillery open on them?"

At that instant the heavy report of a gun burst on the
night; and the crashing of rending wood was heard, as a
heavy shot tore the logs in the room above, and the whole
block shook with the force of a shell that lodged in the
work.  The Pathfinder narrowly escaped the passage of
this formidable missile as it entered; but when it exploded,
Mabel could not suppress a shriek, for she supposed all
over her head, whether animate or inanimate, destroyed.
To increase her horror, her father shouted in a frantic
voice to "charge!"

"Mabel," said Pathfinder, with his head at the trap,
"this is true Mingo work -- more noise than injury.  The
vagabonds have got the howitzer we took from the French,
and have discharged it ag'in the block; but fortunately
they have fired off the only shell we had, and there is an
ind of its use for the present.  There is some confusion
among the stores up in this loft, but no one is hurt.  Your
uncle is still on the roof; and, as for myself, I've run the
gauntlet of too many rifles to be skeary about such a thing
as a howitzer, and that in Indian hands."

Mabel murmured her thanks, and tried to give all her
attention to her father, whose efforts to rise were only
counteracted by his debility.  During the fearful minutes
that succeeded, she was so much occupied with the care of
the invalid that she scarcely heeded the clamor that
reigned around her.  Indeed, the uproar was so great,
that, had not her thoughts been otherwise employed, con-
fusion of faculties rather than alarm would probably have
been the consequence.

Cap preserved his coolness admirably.  He had a pro-
found and increasing respect for the power of the savages,
and even for the majesty of fresh water, it is true; but his
apprehensions of the former proceeded more from his
dread of being scalped and tortured than from any un-
manly fear of death; and, as he was now on the deck of a
house, if not on the deck of a ship, and knew that there
was little danger of boarders, he moved about with a fear-
lessness and a rash exposure of his person that Pathfinder,
had he been aware of the fact, would have been the first to
condemn.  Instead of keeping his body covered, agreeably
to the usages of Indian warfare, he was seen on every part
of the roof, dashing the water right and left, with the ap-
parent steadiness and unconcern he would have manifested
had he been a sail trimmer exercising his art in a battle
afloat.  His appearance was one of the causes of the ex-
traordinary clamor among the assailants; who, unused to
see their enemies so reckless, opened upon him with their
tongues, like a pack that has the fox in view.  Still he ap-
peared to possess a charmed life; for, though the bullets
whistled around him on every side, and his clothes were
several times torn, nothing cut his skin.  When the shell
passed through the logs below, the old sailor dropped his
bucket, waved his hat, and gave three cheers; in which
heroic act he was employed as the dangerous missile ex-
ploded.  This characteristic feat probably saved his life;
for from that instant the Indians ceased to fire at him,
and even to shoot their flaming arrows at the block, hav-
ing taken up the notion simultaneously, and by common
consent, that the "Saltwater" was mad; and it was a
singular effect of their magnanimity never to lift a hand
against those whom they imagined devoid of reason.

The conduct of Pathfinder was very different.  Every-
thing he did was regulated by the most exact calculation,
the result of long experience and habitual thoughtfulness.
His person was kept carefully out of a line with the loops,
and the spot that he selected for his look-out was one quite
removed from danger.  This celebrated guide had often
been known to lead forlorn hopes: he had once stood at
the stake, suffering under the cruelties and taunts of savage
ingenuity and savage ferocity without quailing; and legends
of his exploits, coolness, and daring were to be heard all
along that extensive frontier, or wherever men dwelt and
men contended.  But on this occasion, one who did not
know his history and character might have thought his
exceeding care and studied attention to self-preservation
proceeded from an unworthy motive.  But such a judge
would not have understood his subject; the Pathfinder
bethought him of Mabel, and of what might possibly be the
consequences to that poor girl should any casualty befall
himself.  But the recollection rather quickened his intel-
lect than changed his customary prudence.  He was, in
fact, one of those who was so unaccustomed to fear, that
he never bethought him of the constructions others might
put upon his conduct.  But while in moments of danger
he acted with the wisdom of the serpent, it was also with
the simplicity of a child.

For the first ten minutes of the assault, Pathfinder never
raised the breech of his rifle from the floor, except when
he changed his own position, for he well knew that the
bullets of the enemy were thrown away upon the massive
logs of the work; and as he had been at the capture of
the howitzer he felt certain that the savages had no other
shell than the one found in it when the piece was taken.
There existed no reason, therefore, to dread the fire of the
assailants, except as a casual bullet might find a passage
through a loophole.  One or two of these accidents did
occur, but the balls entered at an angle that deprived them
of all chance of doing any injury so long as the Indians
kept near the block; and if discharged from a distance,
there was scarcely the possibility of one in a hundred's
striking the apertures.  But when Pathfinder heard the
sound of mocassined feet and the rustling of brush at the
foot of the building, he knew that the attempt to build a
fire against the logs was about to be renewed.  He now
summoned Cap from the roof, where, indeed, all the danger
had ceased, and directed him to stand in readiness with
his water at a hole immediately over the spot assailed.

One less trained than our hero would have been in a
hurry to repel this dangerous attempt also, and might have
resorted to his means prematurely; not so with Pathfinder.
His aim was not only to extinguish the fire, about which
he felt little apprehension, but to give the enemy a lesson
that would render him wary during the remainder of the
night.  In order to effect the latter purpose, it became
necessary to wait until the light of the intended conflagra-
tion should direct his aim, when he well knew that a very
slight effort of his skill would suffice.  The Iroquois were
permitted to collect their heap of dried brush, to pile it
against the block, to light it, and to return to their covers
without molestation.  All that Pathfinder would suffer
Cap to do, was to roll a barrel filled with water to the hole
immediately over the spot, in readiness to be used at the
proper instant.  That moment, however, did not arrive, in
his judgment, until the blaze illuminated the surrounding
bushes, and there had been time for his quick and practised
eye to detect the forms of three or four lurking savages,
who were watching the progress of the flames, with the
cool indifference of men accustomed to look on human
misery with apathy.  Then, indeed, he spoke.

"Are you ready, friend Cap?" he asked.  "The heat
begins to strike through the crevices; and although these
green logs are not of the fiery natur' of an ill-tempered
man, they may be kindled into a blaze if one provokes them
too much.  Are you ready with the barrel?  See that it
has the right cut, and that none of the water is wasted."

"All ready!" answered Cap, in the manner in which a
seaman replies to such a demand.

"Then wait for the word.  Never be over-impatient in
a critical time, nor fool-risky in a battle.  Wait for the
word."

While the Pathfinder was giving these directions, he was
also making his own preparations; for he saw it was time
to act.  Killdeer was deliberately raised, pointed, and dis-
charged.  The whole process occupied about half a minute,
and as the rifle was drawn in the eye of the marksman was
applied to the hole.

"There is one riptyle the less," Pathfinder muttered to
himself; "I've seen that vagabond afore, and know him to
be a marciless devil.  Well, well! the man acted accord-
ing to his gifts, and he has been rewarded according to his
gifts.  One more of the knaves, and that will sarve the
turn for to-night.  When daylight appears, we may have
hotter work."

All this time another rifle was being got ready; and as
Pathfinder ceased, a second savage fell.  This indeed
sufficed; for, indisposed to wait for a third visitation from
the same hand, the whole band, which had been crouching
in the bushes around the block, ignorant of who was and
who was not exposed to view, leaped from their covers and
fled to different places for safety.

"Now, pour away, Master Cap," said Pathfinder; "I've
made my mark on the blackguards; and we shall have no
more fires lighted to-night."

"Scaldings!" cried Cap, upsetting the barrel, with a
care that at once and completely extinguished the flames.

This ended the singular conflict; and the remainder of
the night passed in peace.  Pathfinder and Cap watched
alternately, though neither can be said to have slept.
Sleep indeed scarcely seemed necessary to them, for both
were accustomed to protracted watchings; and there were
seasons and times when the former appeared to be literally
insensible to the demands of hunger and thirst and callous
to the effects of fatigue.

Mabel watched by her father's pallet, and began to feel
how much our happiness in this world depends even on
things that are imaginary.  Hitherto she had virtually
lived without a father, the connection with her remaining
parent being ideal rather than positive; but now that she
was about to lose him, she thought for the moment that
the world would be a void after his death, and that she
could never be acquainted with happiness again.



CHAPTER XXV.

There was a roaring in the wind all night;
The rain came heavily, and fell in floods;
But now the sun is rising calm and bright;
The birds are singing in the distant woods.
WORDSWORTH.


As the light returned, Pathfinder and Cap ascended
again to the roof, with a view to reconnoitre the state of
things once more on the island.  This part of the block-
house had a low battlement around it, which afforded a
considerable protection to those who stood in its centre;
the intention having been to enable marksmen to lie be-
hind it and to fire over its top.  By making proper use,
therefore, of these slight defences, -- slight as to height,
though abundantly ample as far as they went, -- the two
look-outs commanded a pretty good view of the island, its
covers excepted, and of most of the channels that led to
the spot.

The gale was still blowing very fresh at south; and there
were places in the river where its surface looked green and
angry, though the wind had hardly sweep enough to raise
the water into foam.  The shape of the little island was
nearly oval, and its greater length was from east to west.
By keeping in the channels that washed it, in consequence
of their several courses and of the direction of the gale, it
would have been possible for a vessel to range past the
island on either of its principal sides, and always to keep
the wind very nearly abeam.  These were the facts first
noticed by Cap, and explained to his companion; for the
hopes of both now rested on the chances of relief sent from
Oswego.  At this instant, while they stood gazing anxiously
about them, Cap cried out, in his lusty, hearty manner,

"Sail, ho!"

Pathfinder turned quickly in the direction of his com-
panion's face; and there, sure enough, was just visible the
object of the old sailor's exclamation.  The elevation en-
abled the two to overlook the low land of several of the
adjacent islands; and the canvas of a vessel was seen
through the bushes that fringed the shore of one that lay
to the southward and westward.  The stranger was under
what seamen call low sail; but so great was the power of
the wind, that her white outlines were seen flying past the
openings of the verdure with the velocity of a fast-travelling
horse -- resembling a cloud driving in the heavens.

"That cannot be Jasper," said Pathfinder in disappoint-
ment; for be did not recognize the cutter of his friend in
the swift-passing object.  "No, no, the lad is behind the
hour; and that is some craft which the Frenchers have
sent to aid their friends, the accursed Mingos."

"This time you are out in your reckoning, friend Path-
finder, if you never were before," returned Cap in a man-
ner that had lost none of its dogmatism by the critical cir-
cumstances in which they were placed.  "Fresh water or
salt, that is the head of the _Scud's_ mainsail, for it is cut
with a smaller gore than common; and then you can see
that the gaff has been fished -- quite neatly done, I admit,
but fished."

"I can see none of this, I confess," answered Pathfinder,
to whom even the terms of his companion were Greek.

"No!  Well, I own that surprises me, for I thought
your eyes could see anything!  Now to me nothing is
plainer than that gore and that fish; and I must say, my
honest friend, that in your place I should apprehend that
my sight was beginning to fail."

"If Jasper is truly coming, I shall apprehend but little.
We can make good the block against the whole Mingo na-
tion for the next eight or ten hours; and with Eau-douce
to cover the retreat, I shall despair of nothing.  God send
that the lad may not run alongside of the bank, and fall
into an ambushment, as befell the Sergeant!"

"Ay, there's the danger.  There ought to have been sig-
nals concerted, and an anchorage-ground buoyed out, and
even a quarantine station or a lazaretto would have been
useful, could we have made these Minks-ho respect the
laws.  If the lad fetches up, as you say, anywhere in the
neighborhood of this island, we may look upon the cutter
as lost.  And, after all, Master Pathfinder, ought we not
to set down this same Jasper as a secret ally of the French,
rather than as a friend of our own?  I know the Sergeant
views the matter in that light; and I must say this whole
affair looks like treason."

"We shall soon know, we shall soon know, Master Cap;
for there, indeed, comes the cutter clear of the other island,
and five minutes must settle the matter.  It would be no
more than fair, however, if we could give the boy some
sign in the way of warning.  It is not right that he should
fall into the trap without a notice that it has been laid."

Anxiety and suspense, notwithstanding, prevented either
from attempting to make any signal.  It was not easy,
truly, to see how it could be done; for the _Scud_ came
foaming through the channel, on the weather side of the
island, at a rate that scarcely admitted of the necessary
time.  Nor was any one visible on her deck to make signs
to; even her helm seemed deserted, though her course was
as steady as her progress was rapid.

Cap stood in silent admiration of a spectacle so unusual.
But, as the _Scud_ drew nearer, his practised eye detected
the helm in play by means of tiller-ropes, though the per-
son who steered was concealed.  As the cutter had weather-
boards of some little height, the mystery was explained,
no doubt remaining that her people lay behind the latter,
in order to be protected from the rifles of the enemy.  As
this fact showed that no force beyond that of the small
crew could be on board, Pathfinder received his compan-
ion's explanation with an ominous shake of the head.

"This proves that the Sarpent has not reached Oswego,"
said he, "and that we are not to expect succor from the
garrison.  I hope Lundie has not taken it into his head
to displace the lad, for Jasper Western would be a host of
himself in such a strait.  We three, Master Cap, ought to
make a manful warfare: you, as a seaman, to keep up the
intercourse with the cutter; Jasper, as a laker who knows
all that is necessary to be done on the water; and I, with
gifts that are as good as any among the Mingos, let me be
what I may in other particulars.  I say we ought to make
a manful fight in Mabel's behalf."

"That we ought, and that we will," answered Cap hear-
tily; for he began to have more confidence in the security
of his scalp now that he saw the sun again.  "I set down
the arival of the _Scud_ as one circumstance, and the chances
of Oh-deuce's honesty as another.  This Jasper is a young
man of prudence, you find; for he keeps a good offing, and
seems determined to know how matters stand on the island
before he ventures to bring up."

"I have it!  I have it!" exclaimed Pathfinder, with ex-
ultation.  "There lies the canoe of the Sarpent on the cut-
ter's deck; and the chief has got on board, and no doubt
has given a true account of our condition; for, unlike a
Mingo, a Delaware is sartain to get a story right, or to
hold his tongue."

"That canoe may not belong to the cutter," said the
captious seaman.  "Oh-deuce had one on board when he
sailed."

"Very true, friend Cap; but if you know your sails and
masts by your gores and fishes, I know my canoes and my
paths by frontier knowledge.  If you can see new cloth in
a sail, I can see new bark in a canoe.  That is the boat of
the Sarpent, and the noble fellow has struck off for the
garrison as soon as he found the block beseiged, has fallen
in with the _Scud_, and, after telling his story, has brought
the cutter down here to see what can be done.  The Lord
grant that Jasper Western be still on board her!"

"Yes, yes; it might not be amiss; for, traitor or loyal,
the lad has a handy way with him in a gale, it must be
owned."

"And in coming over waterfalls!" said Pathfinder, nudg-
ing the ribs of his companion with an elbow, and laughing
in his silent but hearty manner.  "We will give the boy
his due, though he scalps us all with his own hand."

The _Scud_ was now so near, that Cap made no reply.
The scene, just at that instant, was so peculiar, that it
merits a particular description, which may also aid the
reader in forming a more accurate nature of the picture
we wish to draw.

The gale was still blowing violently.  Many of the smaller
trees bowed their tops, as if ready to descend to the earth,
while the rushing of the wind through the branches of the
groves resembled the roar of distant chariots.

The air was filled with leaves, which, at that late season,
were readily driven from their stems, and flew from island
to island like flights of birds.  With this exception, the spot
seemed silent as the grave.  That the savages still remained,
was to be inferred from the fact that their canoes, together
with the boats of the 55th, lay in a group in the little cove
that had been selected as a harbor.  Otherwise, not a sign
of their presence was to be detected.  Though taken en-
tirely by surprise by the cutter, the sudden return of which
was altogether unlooked-for, so uniform aud inbred were
their habits of caution while on the war-path, that the in-
stant an alarm was given every man had taken to his cover
with the instinct and cunning of a fox seeking his hole.
The same stillness reigned in the blockhouse; for though
Pathfinder and Cap could command a view of the chan-
nel, they took the precaution necessary to lie concealed.
The unusual absence of anything like animal life on board
the _Scud_, too, was still more remarkable.  As the Indians
witnessed her apparently undirected movements, a feeling
of awe gained a footing among them, and some of the bold-
est of their party began to distrust the issue of an expedi-
tion that had commenced so prosperotisly.  Even Arrow-
head, accustomed as he was to intercourse with the whites
on both sides of the lakes, fancied there was something
ominous in the appearance of this unmanned vessel, and
he would gladly at that moment have been landed again
on the main.

In the meantime the progress of the cutter was steady
and rapid.  She held her way mid-channel, now inclining
to the gusts, and now rising again, like the philosopher
that bends to the calamities of life to resume his erect at-
titude as they pass away, but always piling the water be-
neath her bows in foam.  Although she was under so very
short canvas, her velocity was great, and there could not
have elapsed ten minutes between the time when her sails
were first seen glancing past the trees and bushes in the
distance and the moment when she was abreast of the
blockhouse.  Cap and Pathfinder leaned forward, as the cut-
ter came beneath their eyrie, eager to get a better view of
her deck, when, to the delight of both, Jasper Eau-douce
sprang upon his feet and gave three hearty cheers.  Re-
gardless of all risk, Cap leaped upon the rampart of logs
and returned the greeting, cheer for cheer.  Happily, the
policy of the enemy saved the latter; for they still lay
quiet, not a rifle being discharged.  On the other hand,
Pathfinder kept in view the useful, utterly disregarding
the mere dramatic part of warfare.  The moment he be-
held his friend Jasper, he called out to him with stentorian
lungs, --

"Stand by us, lad, and the day's our own!  Give 'em a
grist in yonder bushes, and you'll put 'em up like part-
ridges."

Part of this reached Jasper's ears, but most was borne
off to leeward on the wings of the wind.  By the time
this was said, the _Scud_ had driven past, and in the next
moment she was hid from view by the grove in which the
blockhouse was partially concealed.

Two anxious minutes succeeded; but, at the expiration
of that brief space, the sails were again gleaming through
the trees, Jasper having wore, jibed, and hauled up under
the lee of the island on the other tack.  The wind was
free enough, as has been already explained, to admit of
this manoeuvre; and the cutter, catching the current under
her lee bow, was breasted up to her course in a way that
showed she would come out to windward of the island
again without any difficulty.  This whole evolution was
made with the greatest facility, not a sheet being touched,
the sails trimming themselves, the rudder alone controlling
the admirable machine.  The object appeared to be a re-
connoissance.  When, however, the _Scud_ had made the cir-
cuit of the entire island, and had again got her weatherly
position in the channel by which she had first approached,
her helm was put down, and she tacked.  The noise of the
mainsail flapping when it filled, lose-reefed as it was,
sounded like the report of a gun, and Cap trembled lest
the seams should open.

"His Majesty gives good canvas, it must be owned,"
muttered the old seaman; "and it must be owned, too,
that boy handles his boat as if he were thoroughly bred!
D--- me, Master Pathfinder, if I believe, after all that has
been reported in the matter, that this Mister Oh-deuce got
his trade on this bit of fresh water."

"He did; yes, he did.  He never saw the ocean, and has
come by his calling altogether up here on Ontario.  I have
often thought he has a nat'ral gift in the way of schooners
and sloops, and have respected him accordingly.  As for
treason and lying and black-hearted vices, friend Cap,
Jasper Western is as free as the most virtuousest of the
Delaware warriors; and if you crave to see a truly honest
man, you must go among that tribe to discover him."

"There he comes round!" exclaimed the delighted Cap,
the _Scud_ at this moment filling on her original tack; "and
now we shall see what the boy would be at; he cannot mean
to keep running up and down these passages, like a girl
footing it through a country-dance."

The _Scud_ now kept so much away, that for a moment
the two observers on the blockhouse feared Jasper meant
to come-to; and the savages, in their lairs, gleamed out
upon her with the sort of exultation that the crouching
tiger may be supposed to feel as he sees his unconscious
victim approach his bed.  But Jasper had no such inten-
tion: familiar with the shore, and acquainted with the
depth of water on every part of the island, he well knew
that the _Scud_ might be run against the bank with impu-
nity, and he ventured fearlessly so near, that, as he passed
through the little cove, he swept the two boats of the sol-
diers from their fastenings and forced them out into the
channel, towing them with the cutter.  As all the canoes
were fastened to the two Dunham boats, by this bold and
successful attempt the savages were at once deprived of
the means of quitting the island, unless by swimming, and
they appeared to be instantly aware of the very important
fact.  Rising in a body, they filled the air with yells, and
poured in a harmless fire.  While up in this unguarded
manner, two rifles were discharged by their adversaries.
One came from the summit of the block, and an Iroquois
fell dead in his tracks, shot through the brain.  The other
came from the _Scud_.  The last was the piece of the Dela-
ware, but, less true than that of his friend, it only maimed
an enemy for life.  The people of the _Scud_ shouted, and
the savages sank again, to a man, as if it might be into the
earth.

"That was the Sarpent's voice," said Pathfinder, as soon
as the second piece was discharged.  "I know the crack of
his rifle as well as I do that of Killdeer.  'Tis a good bar-
rel, though not sartain death.  Well, well, with Chingach-
gook and Jasper on the water, and you and I in the block,
friend Cap, it will be hard if we don't teach these Mingo
scamps the rationality of a fight."

All this time the _Scud_ was in motion.  As soon as he
had reached the end of the island, Jasper sent his prizes
adrift; and they went down before the wind until they
stranded on a point half a mile to leeward.  He then wore,
and came stemming the current again, through the other
passage.  Those on the summit of the block could now
perceive that something was in agitation on the deck of
the _Scud_; and, to their great delight, just as the cutter
came abreast of the principal cove, on the spot where most
of the enemy lay, the howitzer which composed her sole
armament was unmasked, and a shower of case-shot was
sent hissing into the bushes.  A bevy of quail would not
have risen quicker than this unexpected discharge of iron
hail put up the Iroquois; when a second savage fell by a
messenger sent from Killdeer, and another went limping
away by a visit from the rifle of Chingachgook.  New
covers were immediately found, however; and each party
seemed to prepare for the renewal of the strife in another
form.  But the appearance of June, bearing a white flag,
and accompanied by the French officer and Muir, stayed
the hands of all, and was the forerunner of another parley.
The negotiation that followed was held beneath the
blockhouse; and so near it as at once to put those who
were uncovered completely at the mercy of Pathfinder's
unerring aim.  Jasper anchored directly abeam; and the
howitzer, too, was kept trained upon the negotiators: so
that the beseiged and their friends, with the exception of
the man who held the match, had no hesitation about ex-
posing their persons.  Chingachgook alone lay in ambush;
more, however, from habit than distrust.

"You've triumphed, Pathfinder," called out the Quarter-
master, "and Captain Sanglier has come himself to offer
terms.  You'll no' be denying a brave enemy honorable
retreat, when he has fought ye fairly, and done all the
credit he could to king and country.  Ye are too loyal a
subject yourself to visit loyalty and fidelity with a heavy
judgment.  I am authorized to offer, on the part of the
enemy, an evacuation of the island, a mutual exchange of
prisoners, and a restoration of scalps.  In the absence of
baggage and artillery, little more can be done."

As the conversation was necessarily carried on in a high
key, both on account of the wind and of the distance, all
that was said was heard equally by those in the block and
those in the cutter.

"What do you say to that, Jasper?" called out Path-
finder.  "You hear the proposal.  Shall we let the vaga-
bonds go? or shall we mark them, as they mark their
sheep in the settlements, that we may know them again?"

"What has befallen Mabel Dunham?" demanded the
young man, with a frown on his handsome face, that was
visible even to those on the block.  "If a hair of her
head has been touched, it will go hard with the whole Iro-
quois tribe."

"Nay, nay, she is safe below, nursing a dying parent, as
becomes her sex.  We owe no grudge on account of the
Sergeant's hurt, which comes of lawful warfare; and as
for Mabel -- "

"She is here!" exclaimed the girl herself, who had
mounted to the roof the moment she found the direction
things were taking, -- "she is here! and, in the name of our
holy religion, and of that God whom we profess to wor-
ship in common, let there be no more bloodshed!  Enough
has been spilt already; and if these men will go away,
Pathfinder -- if they will depart peaceably, Jasper -- oh, do
not detain one of them!  My poor father is approaching
his end, and it were better that he should draw his last
breath in peace with the world.  Go, go, Frenchmen and
Indians! we are no longer your enemies, and will harm
none of you."

"Tut, tut, Magnet!" put in Cap; "this sounds religious,
perhaps, or like a book of poetry; but it does not sound
like common sense.  The enemy is just ready to strike;
Jasper is anchored with his broadside to bear, and, no
doubt, with springs on his cables; Pathfinder's eye and
hand are as true as the needle; and we shall get prize-
money, head-money, and honor in the bargain, if you will
not interfere for the next half-hour."

"Well," said Pathfinder, "I incline to Mabel's way of
thinking.  There _has_ been enough blood shed to answer
our purpose and to sarve the king; and as for honor, in
that meaning, it will do better for young ensigns and re-
cruits than for cool-headed, obsarvant Christian men.
There is honor in doing what's right, and unhonor in doing
what's wrong; and I think it wrong to take the life even
of a Mingo, without a useful end in view, I do; and nght
to hear reason at all times.  So, Lieutenant Muir, let us
know what your friends the Frenchers and Indians have
to say for themselves."

"My friends!" said Muir, starting; "you'll no' be calling
the king's enemies my friends, Pathfinder, because the
fortune of war has thrown me into their hands?  Some of
the greatest warriors, both of ancient aud modern times,
have been prisoners of war; and yon is Master Cap, who
can testify whether we did not do all that men could de-
vise to escape the calamity."

"Ay, ay," drily answered Cap; "escape is the proper
word.  We ran below aud hid ourselves, and so discreetly,
that we might have remained in the hole to this hour, had
it not been for the necessity of re-stowing the bread lockers.
You burrowed on that occasion, Quartermaster, as handily
as a fox; and how the d---l you knew so well where to
find the spot is a matter of wonder to me.  A regular skulk
on board ship does not trail aft more readily when the jib
is to be stowed, than you went into that same hole."

"And did ye no' follow?  There are moments in a man's
life when reason ascends to instinct -- "

"And men descend into holes," interrupted Cap, laugh-
ing in his boisterous way, while Pathfinder chimed in, in
his peculiar manner.  Even Jasper, though still filled with
concern for Mabel, was obliged to smile.  "They say the
d---l wouldn't make a sailor if he didn't look aloft; and
now it seems he'll not make a soldier if he doesn't look
below!"

This burst of merriment, though it was anything but
agreeable to Muir, contributed largely towards keeping
the peace.  Cap fancied he had said a thing much better
than common; and that disposed him to yield his own
opinion on the main point, so long as he got the good opin-
ion of his companions on his novel claim to be a wit.
After a short discussion, all the savages on the island were
collected in a body, without arms, at the distance of a hun-
dred yards from the block, and under the gun of the _Scud_;
while Pathfinder descended to the door of the blockhouse
and settled the terms on which the island was to be finally
evacuated by the enemy.  Considering all the circum-
stances, the conditions were not very discreditable to either
party.  The Indians were compelled to give up all their
arms, even to their knives and tomahawks, as a measure of
precaution, their force being still quadruple that of their
foes.  The French officer, Monsieur Sanglier, as he was
usually styled, and chose to call himself, remonstrated
against this act as one likely to reflect more discredit on
his command than any other part of the affair; but Path-
finder, who had witnessed one or two Indian massacres,
and knew how valueless pledges became when put in op-
position to interest where a savage was concerned, was ob-
durate.  The second stipulation was of nearly the same
importance.  It compelled Captain Sanglier to give up all
his prisoners, who had been kept well guarded in the very
hole or cave in which Cap and Muir had taken refuge.
When these men were produced, four of them were found
to be unhurt; they had fallen merely to save their lives, a
common artifice in that species of warfare; and of the re-
mainder, two were so slightly injured as not to be unfit for
service.  As they brought their muskets with them, this
addition to his force immediately put Pathfinder at his
ease; for, having collected all the arms of the enemy in the
blockhouse, he directed these men to take possession of
the building, stationing a regular sentinel at the door.  The
remainder of the soldiers were dead, the badly wounded
having been instantly despatched in order to obtain the
much-coveted scalps.

As soon as Jasper was made acquainted with the terms,
and the preliminaries had been so far observed as to ren-
der it safe for him to be absent, he got the _Scud_ under
weigh; and, running down to the point where the boats
had stranded, he took them in tow again, and, making a
few stretches, brought them into the leeward passage.
Here all the savages instantly embarked, when Jasper took
the boats in tow a third time, and, running off before the
wind, he soon set them adrift full a mile to leeward of the
island.  The Indians were furnished with but a single oar
in each boat to steer with, the young sailor well knowing
that by keeping before the wind they would land on the
shores of Canada in the course of the morning.

Captain Sanglier, Arrowhead, and June alone remained,
when this disposition had been made of the rest of the
party: the former having certain papers to draw up and
sign with Lieutenant Muir, who in his eyes possessed the
virtues which are attached to a commission; and the lat-
ter preferring, for reasons of his own, not to depart in com-
pany with his late friends, the Iroquis.  Canoes were de-
tained for the departure of these three, when the proper
moment should arrive.

In the meantime, or while the _Scud_ was running down
with the boats in tow, Pathfinder and Cap, aided by proper
assistants, busied themselves with preparing a breakfast;
most of the party not having eaten for four-and-twenty
hours.  The brief space that passed in this manner before
the _Scud_ came-to again was little interrupted by discourse,
though Pathfinder found leisure to pay a visit to the Ser-
geant, to say a few friendly words to Mabel, and to give
such directions as he thought might smooth the passage of
the dying man.  As for Mabel herself, he insisted on her
taking some light refreshment; and, there no longer ex-
isting any motive for keeping it there, he had the guard
removed from the block, in order that the daughter might
have no impediment to her attentions to her father.  These
little arrangements completed, our hero returned to the
fire, around which he found all the remainder of the party
assembled, including Jasper.



CHAPTER XXVI.

You saw but sorrow in its waning form;
A working sea remaining from a storm,
Where now the weary waves roll o'er the deep,
And faintly murmur ere they fall asleep.
DRYDEN.


Men accustomed to a warfare like that we have been de-
scribing are not apt to be much under the influence of the
tender feelings while still in the field.  Notwithstanding
their habits, however, more than one heart was with Mabel
in the block, while the incidents we are about to relate
were in the course of occurrence; and even the indispen-
sable meal was less relished by the hardiest of the soldiers
than it might have been had not the Sergeant been so near
his end.

As Pathfinder returned from the block, he was met by
Muir, who led him aside in order to hold a private discourse.
The manner of the Quartermaster had that air of supere-
rogatory courtesy about it which almost invariably denotes
artifice; for, while physiognomy and phrenology are but lame
sciences at the best, and perhaps lead to as many false as
right conclusions, we hold that there is no more infallible
evidence of insincerity of purpose, short of overt acts, than
a face that smiles when there is no occasion, and the tongue
that is out of measure smooth.  Muir had much of this
manner in common, mingled with an apparent frankness
that his Scottish intonation of voice, Scottish accent, and
Scottish modes of expression were singularly adapted to
sustain.  He owed his preferment, indeed, to a long-exer-
cised deference to Lundie and his family; for, while the
Major himself was much too acute to be the dupe of one
so much his inferior in real talents and attainments, most
persons are accustomed to make liberal concessions to the
flatterer, even while they distrust his truth and are per-
fectly aware of his motives.  On the present occasion, the
contest in skill was between two men as completely the
opposites of each other in all the leading essentials of char-
acter as very well could be.  Pathfinder was as simple as
the Quartermaster was practised; he was as sincere as the
other was false, and as direct as the last was tortuous.
Both were cool and calculating, and both were brave,
though in different modes and degrees; Muir never expos-
ing his person except for effect, while the guide included
fear among the rational passions, or as a sensation to be
deferred to only when good might come of it.

"My dearest friend," Muir commenced, -- "for ye'll be
dearer to us all, by seventy and sevenfold, after your late
conduct than ever ye were, -- ye've just established yourself
in this late transaction.  It's true that they'll not be mak-
ing ye a commissioned officer, for that species of prefair-
ment is not much in your line, nor much in your wishes,
I'm thinking; but as a guide, and a counsellor, and a loyal
subject, and an expert marksman, yer renown may be said
to be full.  I doubt if the commander-in-chief will carry
away with him from America as much credit as will fall to
yer share, and ye ought just to set down in content and
enjoy yoursal' for the remainder of yer days.  Get mar-
ried, man, without delay, and look to your precious happi-
ness; for ye've no occasion to look any longer to your
glory.  Take Mabel Dunham, for Heaven's sake, to your
bosom, and ye'll have both a bonnie bride and a bonnie
reputation."

"Why, Quartermaster, this is a new piece of advice to
come from your mouth.  They've told me I had a rival in
you."

"And ye had, man, and a formidible one, too, I can tell
you, -- one that has never yet courted in vain, and yet one
that has courted five times.  Lundie twits me with four,
and I deny the charge; but he little thinks the truth would
outdo even his arithmetic.  Yes, yes, ye had a rival, Path-
finder; but ye've one no longer in me.  Ye've my hearty
wishes for yer success with Mabel; and were the honest
Sergeant likely to survive, ye might rely on my good word
with him, too, for a certainty."

"I feel your friendship, Quartermaster, I feel your
friendship, though I have no great need of any favor with
Sergeant Dunham, who has long been my friend.  I be-
lieve we may look upon the matter to be as sartain as most
things in war-time; for, Mabel and her father consenting,
the whole 55th couldn't very well put a stop to it.  Ah's
me! the poor father will scarcely live to see what his heart
has so long been set upon."

"But he'll have the consolation of knowing it will come
to pass, in dying.  Oh, it's a great relief, Pathfinder, for
the parting spirit to feel certain that the beloved ones left
behind will be well provided for after its departure.  All
the Mistress Muirs have duly expressed that sentiment
with their dying breaths."

"All your wives, Quartermaster, have been likely to feel
this consolation."

"Out upon ye, man!  I'd no' thought ye such a wag.
Well, well; pleasant words make no heart-burnings be-
tween auld fri'nds.  If I cannot espouse Mabel, ye'll no
object to my esteeming her, and speaking well of her, and
of yoursal', too, on all suitable occasions and in all com-
panies.  But, Pathfinder, ye'll easily understan' that a poor
deevil who loses sucha bride will probably stand in need
of some consolation?"

"Quite likely, quite likely, Quartermaster," returned
the simple-minded guide; "I know the loss of Mabel would
be found heavy to be borne by myself.  It may bear hard
on your feelings to see us married; but the death of the
Sergeant will be likely to put it off, and you'll have time
to think more manfully of it, you will."

"I'll bear up against it; yes, I'll bear up against it,
though my heart-strings crack! and ye might help me,
man, by giving me something to do.  Ye'll understand
that this expedition has been of a very peculiar nature;
for here am I, bearing the king's commission, just a volun-
teer, as it might be; while a mere orderly has had the
command.  I've submitted for various reasons, though my
blood has boiled to be in authority, while ye war' battling,,
for the honor of the country and his Majesty's rights -- "

"Quartermaster," interrupted the guide, "you fell so
early into the enemy's hands that your conscience ought
to be easily satisfied on that score; so take my advice, and
say nothing about it."

"That's just my opinion, Pathfinder; we'll all say noth-
ing about it.  Sergeant Dunham is _hors de combat_ -- "

"Anan?" said the guide.

"Why, the Sergeant can command no longer, and it will
hardly do to leave a corporal at the head of a victorious
party like this; for flowers that will bloom in a garden
will die on a heath; and I was just thinking I would claim
the authority that belongs to one who holds a lieutenant's
commission.  As for the men, they'll no dare to raise any
objaction; and as for yoursal', my dear friend, now that
ye've so much honor, and Mabel, and the consciousness of
having done yer duty, which is more precious than all, I
expect to find an ally rather than one to oppose the
plan."

"As for commanding the soldiers of the 55th, Lieuten-
ant, it is your right, I suppose, and no one here will be
likely to gainsay it; though you've been a prisoner of war,
and there are men who might stand out ag'in giving up
their authority to a prisoner released by their own deeds.
Still no one here will be likely to say anything hostile to
your wishes."

"That's just it, Pathfinder; and when I come to draw
up the report of our success against the boats, and the de-
fence of the block, together with the general operations,
including the capitulation, ye'll no' find any omission of
your claims and merits."

"Tut for my claims and merits, Quartermaster!  Lundie
knows what I am in the forest and what I am in the fort;
and the General knows better than he.  No fear of me;
tell your own story, only taking care to do justice by
Mabel's father, who, in one sense, is the commanding officer
at this very moment."

Muir expressed his entire satisfaction with this arrange-
ment, as well as his determination to do justice by all, when
the two went to the group assembled round the fire.  Here
the Quartermaster began, for the first time since leaving
Oswego, to assume some of the authority that might prop-
erly be supposed to belong to his rank.  Taking the re-
maining corporal aside, he distinctly told that functionary
that he must in future be regarded as one holding the
king's commission, and directed him to acquaint his sub-
ordinates with the new state of things.  This change in
the dynasty was effected without any of the usual symp-
toms of a revolution; for, as all well understood the Lieu-
tenant's legal claims to command, no one felt disposed to
dispute his orders.  For reasons best known to themselves,
Lundie and the Quartermaster had originally made a differ-
ent disposition; and now, for reasons of his own, the latter
had seen fit to change it.  This was reasoning enough for
soldiers, though the hurt received by Sergeant Dunham
would have sufficiently explained the circumstance had an
explanation been required.

All this time Captain Sanglier was looking after his own
breakfast with the resignation of a philosopher, the cool-
ness of a veteran, the ingenuity and science of a French-
man, and the voracity of an ostrich.  This person had now
been in the colony some thirty years, having left France
in some such situation in his own army as Muir filled in
the 55th.  An iron constitution, perfect obduracy of feel-
ing, a certain address well suited to manage savages, and
an indomitable courage, had early pointed him out to the
commander-in-chief as a suitable agent to be employed in
directing the military operations of his Indian allies.  In
this capacity, then, he had risen to the titular rank of cap-
tain; and with his promotion had acquired a portion of
the habits and opinions of his associates with a facility and
an adaptation of self which are thought in America to be
peculiar to his countrymen.  He had often led parties of
the Iroquois in their predatory expeditions; and his con-
duct on such occasions exhibited the contradictory results
of both alleviating the misery produced by this species of
warfare, and of augmenting it by the broader views and
greater resources of civilization.  In other words, he
planned enterprises that, in their importance and conse-
quences, much exceeded the usual policy of the Indians,
and then stepped in to lessen some of the evils of his own
creating.  In short, he was an adventurer whom cir-
cumstances had thrown into a situation where the callous
qualities of men of his class might readily show themselves
for good or for evil; and he was not of a character to baffle
fortune by any ill-timed squeamishness on the score of
early impressions, or to trifle with her liberality by unnec-
essarily provoking her frowns through wanton cruelty.
Still, as his name was unavoidably connected with many
of the excesses committed by his parties, he was generally
oonsidered in the American provinces a wretch who de-
lighted in bloodshed, and who found his greatest happiness
in tormenting the helpless and the innocent; and the name
of Sanglier, which was a sobriquet of his own adopting, or
of Flint Heart, as he was usually termed on the borders,
had got to be as terrible to the women and children of that
part of the country as those of Butler and Brandt became
at a later day.

The meeting between Pathfinder and Sanglier bore some
resemblance to that celebrated interview between Welling-
ton and Blucher which has been so often and graphically
told.  It took place at the fire; and the parties stood ear-
nestly regarding each other for more than a minute with-
out speaking.  Each felt that in the other he saw a formi-
dable foe; and each felt, while he ought to treat the other
with the manly liberality due to a warrior, that there was
little in common between them in the way of character as
well as of interests.  One served for money and prefer-
ment; the other, because his life had been cast in the wil-
derness, and the land of his birth needed his arm and ex-
perience.  The desire of rising above his present situation
never disturbed the tranquillity of Pathfinder; nor had he
ever known an ambitious thought, as ambition usually
betrays itself, until he became acquainted with Mabel.
Since then, indeed, distrust of himself, reverence for her,
and the wish to place her in a situation above that which
he then filled, had caused him some uneasy moments; but
the directness and simplicity of his character had early
afforded the required relief; and he soon came to feel that
the woman who would not hesitate to accept him for her
husband would not scruple to share his fortunes, however
humble.  He respected Sanglier as a brave warrior; and
he had far too much of that liberality which is the result
of practical knowledge to believe half of what he had heard
to his prejudice, for the most bigoted and illiberal on every
subject are usually those who know nothing about it; but
he could not approve of his selfishness, cold-blooded calcu-
lations, and least of all of the manner in which he forgot
his "white gifts," to adopt those that were purely "red."
On the other hand, Pathfinder was a riddle to Captain
Sanglier.  The latter could not comprehend the other's
motives; he had often heard of his disinterestedness, jus-
tice, and truth; and in several instances they had led him
into grave errors, on that principle by which a frank and
open-mouthed diplomatist is said to keep his secrets better
than one that is close-mouthed and wily.

After the two heroes had gazed at each other in the man-
ner mentioned, Monsieur Sanglier touched his cap; for
the rudeness of a border life had not entirely destroyed the
courtesy of manner he had acquired in youth, nor extin-
guished that appearance of _bonhomie_ which seems inbred
in a Frenchman.

"Monsieur le Pathfinder," said he, with a very decided
accent, though with a friendly smile, "_un militaire_ honor
_le courage, et la loyaute_.  You speak Iroquois?"

"Ay, I understand the language of the riptyles, and can
get along with it if there's occasion," returned the literal
and truth-telling guide; "but it's neither a tongue nor a
tribe to my taste.  Wherever you find the Mingo blood, in
my opinion, Master Flinty-heart, you find a knave.  Well,
I've seen you often, though it was in battle; and I must
say it was always in the van.  You must know most of our
bullets by sight?"

"Nevvair, sair, your own; _une balle_ from your honorable
hand be sairtaine deat'.  You kill my best warrior on some
island."

"That may be, that may be; though I daresay, if the
truth was known, they would turn out to be great rascals.
No offence to you, Master Flinty-heart, but you keep des-
perate evil company."

"Yes, sair," returned the Frenchman, who, bent on say-
ing that which was courteous himself, and comprehending
with difficulty, was disposed to think he received a com-
pliment, "you too good.  But _un brave_ always _comme ca_.
What that mean? ha! what that _jeune homme_ do?"

The hand and eye of Captain Sanglier directed the look
of Pathfinder to the opposite side of the fire, where Jasper,
just at that moment, had been rudely seized by two of the
soldiers, who were binding his arms under the direction of
Muir.

"What does that mean, indeed?" cried the guide, step-
ping forward and shoving the two subordinates away with
a power of muscle that would not be denied.  "Who has
the heart to do this to Jasper Eau-douce? and who has
the boldness to do it before my eyes?"

"It is by my orders, Pathfinder," answered the Quarter-
master, "and I command it on my own responsibility.
Ye'll no' tak' on yourself to disrute the legality of orders
given by one who bears the king's commission to the
king's soldiers?"

"I'd dispute the king's words, if they came from the
king's own mouth, did he say that Jasper desarves this.
Has not the lad just saved all our scalps, taken us from
defeat, and given us victory?  No, no, Lieutenant; if this
is the first use that you make of your authority, I, for
one, will not respect it."

"This savors a little of insubordination," answered Muir;
"but we can bear much from Pathfinder.  It is true this
Jasper has _seemed_ to serve us in this affair, but we ought
not to overlook past transactions.  Did not Major Duncan
himself denounce him to Sergeant Dunham before we
left the post?  Have we not seen sufficient with our own
eyes to make sure of having been betrayed? and is it not
natural, and almost necessary, to believe that this young
man has been the traitor?  Ah, Pathfinder! ye'll no' be
making yourself a great statesman or a great captain if
you put too much faith in appearances.  Lord bless me!
Lord bless me! if I do not believe, could the truth be
come at, as you often say yourself, Pathfinder, that hypoc-
risy is a more common vice than even envy, and that's
the bane of human nature."

Captain Sanglier shrugged his shoulders; then he looked
earnestly from Jasper towards the Quartermaster, and
from the Quartermaster towards Jasper.

"I care not for your envy, or your hypocrisy, or even for
your human natur'," returned Pathfinder.  "Jasper Eau-
douce is my friend; Jasper Eau-douce is a brave lad, and
an honest lad, and a loyal lad; and no man of the 55th
shall lay hands on him, short of Lundie's own orders,
while I'm in the way to prevent it.  You may have au-
thority over your soldiers; but you have none over Jasper
and me, Master Muir."

"_Bon!_" ejaculated Sanglier, the sound partaking equally
of the energies of the throat and of the nose.

"Will ye no' hearken to reason, Pathfinder?  Ye'll no'
be forgetting our suspicions and judgments; and here is
another circumstance to augment and aggravate them all.
Ye can see this little bit of bunting; well, where should
it be found but by Mabel Dunham, on the branch of a tree
on this very island, just an hour or so before the attack
of the enemy; and if ye'll be at the trouble to look at the
fly of the _Scud's_ ensign, ye'll just say that the cloth has
been cut from out it.  Circumstantial evidence was never
stronger."

"_Ma foi, c'est un peu fort, ceci,_" growled Sanglier be-
tween his teeth.

"Talk to me of no ensigns and signals when I know the
heart," continued the Pathfinder.  "Jasper has the gift
of honesty; and it is too rare a gift to be trifled with, like
a Mingo's conscience.  No, no; off hands, or we shall see
which can make the stoutest battle; you and your men of
the 55th, or the Sarpent here, and Killdeer, with Jasper
and his crew.  You overrate your force, Lieutenant Muir,
as much as you underrate Eau-douce's truth."

"_Tres bon!_"

"Well, if I must speak plainly, Pathfinder, I e'en must.
Captain Sanglier here and Arrowhead, this brave Tusca-
rora, have both informed me that this unfortunate boy is
the traitor.  After such testimony you can no longer op-
pose my right to correct him, as well as the necessity of
the act."

"_Scelerat,_" muttered the Frenchman.

"Captain Sanglier is a brave soldier, and will not gain-
say the conduct of an honest sailor," put in Jasper.  "Is
there any traitor here, Captain Flinty-heart?"

"Ay," added Muir, "let him speak out then, since ye
wish it, unhappy youth! that the truth may be known.  I
only hope that ye may escape the last punishment when a
court will be sitting on your misdeeds.  How is it, Cap-
tain; do ye, or do ye not, see a traitor amang us?"

"_Oui_ -- yes, sair -- _bien sur_."

"Too much lie!" said Arrowhead in a voice of thunder,
striking the breast of Muir with the back of his own hand
in a sort of ungovernable gesture; "where my warriors?
- where Yengeese scalp?  Too much lie!"

Muir wanted not for personal courage, nor for a certain
sense of personal honor.  The violence which had been in-
tended only for a gesture he mistook for a blow; for con-
science was suddenly aroused within him, and he stepped
back a pace, extending his hand towards a gun.  His face
was livid with rage, and his countenance expressed the
fell intention of his heart.  But Arrowhead was too quick
for him; with a wild glance of the eye the Tuscarora looked
about him; then thrust a hand beneath his own girdle,
drew forth a concealed knife, and, in the twinkling of an
eye, buried it in the body of the Quartermaster to the
handle.  As the latter fell at his feet, gazing into his face
with the vacant stare of one surprised by death, Sanglier
took a pinch of snuff, and said in a calm voice, --

"_Voila l'affaire finie; mais,_" shrugging his shoulders,
"_ce n'est qu'un scelerat de moins._"

The act was too sudden to be prevented; and when Ar-
rowhead, uttering a yell, bounded into the bushes, the
white men were too confounded to follow.  Chingach-
gook, however, was more collected; and the bushes had
scarcely closed on the passing body of the Tuscarora than
they were again opened by that of the Delaware in full
pursuit.

Jasper Western spoke French fluently, and the words
and manner of Sanglier struck him.

"Speak, Monsieur," said he in English; "_am_ I the
traitor?"

"_Le voila_," answered the cool Frenchman, "dat is our
_espion_ -- our _agent_ -- our friend -- _ma foi_ -- _c'etait un grand
scelerat_ -- _voici_."

While speaking, Sanglier bent over the dead body, and
thrust his hand into a pocket of the Quartermaster, out of
which he drew a purse.  Emptying the contents on the
ground, several double-louis rolled towards the soldiers,
who were not slow in picking them up.  Casting the purse
from him in contempt, the soldier of fortune turned
towards the soup he had been preparing with so much
care, and, finding it to his liking, he began to break his
fast with an air of indifference that the most stoical In-
dian warrior might have envied.



CHAPTER XXVII.

The only amaranthian flower on earth
Is virtue; the only lasting treasure, truth.
COWPER.


The reader must imagine some of the occurrences that
followed the sudden death of Muir.  While his body was
in the hands of his soldiers, who laid it decently aside, and
covered it with a greatcoat, Chingachgook silently resumed
his place at the fire, and both Sanglier and Pathfinder re-
marked that he carried a fresh and bleeding scalp at his
girdle.  No one asked any questions; and the former,
although perfectly satisfied that Arrowhead had fallen,
manifested neither curiosity nor feeling.  He continued
calmly eating his soup, as if the meal had been tranquil as
usual.  There was something of pride and of an assumed
indifference to fate, imitated from the indians, in all this;
but there was more that really resulted from practice, habi-
tual self-command, and constitutional hardihood.  With
Pathfinder the case was a little different in feeling, though
much the same in appearance.  He disliked Muir, whose
smooth-tongued courtesy was little in accordance with his
own frank and ingenuous nature; but he had been shocked
at his unexpected and violent death, though accustomed
to similar scenes, and he had been surprised at the expos-
ure of his treachery.  With a view to ascertain the extent
of the latter, as soon as the body was removed, he began
to question the Captain on the subject.  The latter, hav-
ing no particular motive for secrecy now that his agent
was dead, in the course of the breakfast revealed the fol-
lowing circumstances, which will serve to clear up some of
the minor incidents of our tale.

Soon after the 55th appeared on the frontiers, Muir had
volunteered his services to the enemy.  In making his
offers, he boasted of his intimacy with Lundie, and of the
means it afforded of furnishing more accurate and impor-
tant information than usual.  His terms had been ac-
cepted, and Monsieur Sanglier had several interviews with
him in the vicinity of the fort at Oswego, and had actu-
ally passed one entire night secreted in the garrison.  Ar-
rowhead, however, was the usual channel of communica-
tion; and the anonymous letter to Major Duncan had been
originally written by Muir, transmitted to Frontenac,
copied, and sent back by the Tuscarora, who was return-
ing from that errand when captured by the _Scud_.  It is
scarcely necessary to add that Jasper was to be sacrificed
in order to conceal the Quartermaster's treason, and that
the position of the island had been betrayed to the enemy
by the latter.  An extraordinary compensation -- that which
was found in his purse -- had induced him to accompany
the party under Sergeant Dunham, in order to give the
signals that were to bring on the attack.  The disposition
of Muir towards the sex was a natural weakness, and he
would have married Mabel, or any one else who would ac-
cept his hand; but his admiration of her was in a great
degree feigned, in order that he might have an excuse for
accompanying the party without sharing in the responsi-
bility of its defeat, or incurring the risk of having no
other strong and seemingly sufficient motive.  Much of
this was known to Captain Sanglier, particularly the part
in connection with Mabel, and he did not fail to let his
auditors into the whole secret, frequently laughing in a
sarcastic manner, as he revealed the different expedients
of the luckless Quartermaster.

"_Touchez-la_," said the cold-blooded partisan, holding
out his sinewy hand to Pathfinder, when he ended his ex-
planations; "you be _honnete_, and dat is _beaucoup_.  We
tak' de spy as we tak' _la medicine_, for de good; _mais, je les
deteste!  Touchez-la._"

"I'll shake your hand, Captain, I will; for you're a law-
ful and nat'ral inimy," returned Pathfinder, "and a man-
ful one; but the body of the Quartermaster shall never
disgrace English ground.  I did intend to carry it back to
Lundie that he might play his bagpipes over it, but now
it shall lie here on the spot where he acted his villainy, and
have his own treason for a headstone.  Captain Flintyheart,
I suppose this consorting with traitors is a part of a sol-
dier's regular business; but, I tell you honestly, it is not
to my liking, and I'd rather it should be you than I who
had this affair on his conscience.  What an awful sinner!
To plot, right and left, ag'in country, friends, and the
Lord!  Jasper, boy, a word with you aside, for a single
minute."

Pathfinder now led the young man apart; and, squeez-
ing his hand, with the tears in his own eyes, he continued:

"You know me, Eau-douce, and I know you," said he,
"and this news has not changed my opinion of you in any
manner.  I never believed their tales, though it looked
solemn at one minute, I will own; yes, it did look solemn,
and it made me feel solemn too.  I never suspected you
for a minute, for I know your gifts don't lie that-a-way;
but, I must own, I didn't suspect the Quartermaster
neither."

"And he holding his Majesty's commission, Pathfinder!"

"It isn't so much that, Jasper Western, it isn't so much
that.  He held a commission from God to act right, and to
deal fairly with his fellow-creaturs, and he has failed
awfully in his duty."

"To think of his pretending love for one like Mabel,
too, when he felt none."

"That was bad, sartainly; the fellow must have had
Mingo blood in his veins.  The man that deals unfairly
by a woman can be but a mongrel, lad; for the Lord has
made them helpless on purpose that we may gain their
love by kindness and sarvices.  Here is the Sergeant, poor
man, on his dying bed; he has given me his daughter for
a wife, and Mabel, dear girl, she has consented to it; and
it makes me feel that I have two welfares to look after, two
naturs to care for, and two hearts to gladden.  Ah's me,
Jasper!  I sometimes feel that I'm not good enough for
that sweet child!"

Eau-douce had nearly gasped for breath when he first
heard this intelligence; and, though he succeeded in sup-
pressing any other outward signs of agitation, his cheek
was blanched nearly to the paleness of death.  Still he
found means to answer not only with firmness, but with
energy, --

"Say not so, Pathfinder; you are good enough for a
queen."

"Ay, ay, boy, according to your idees of my goodness;
that is to say, I can kill a deer, or even a Mingo at need,
with any man on the lines; or I can follow a forest-path
with as true an eye, or read the stars, when others do not
understand them.  No doubt, no doubt, Mabel will have
venison enough, and fish enough, and pigeons enough;
but will she have knowledge enough, and will she have
idees enough, and pleasant conversation enough, when life
comes to drag a little, and each of us begins to pass for our
true value?"

"If you pass for your value, Pathfinder, the greatest lady
in the land would be happy with you.  On that head you
have no reason to feel afraid."

"Now, Jasper, I dare to say _you_ think so, nay, I _know_
you do; for it is nat'ral, and according to friendship, for
people to look over-favorably at them they love.  Yes, yes;
if I had to marry you, boy, I should give myself no con-
sarn about my being well looked upon, for you have always
shown a disposition to see me and all I do with friendly
eyes.  But a young gal, after all, must wish to marry a
man that is nearer to her own age and fancies, than to
have one old enough to be her father, and rude enough to
frighten her.  I wonder, Jasper, that Mabel never took a
fancy to you, now, rather than setting her mind on me."

"Take, a fancy to me, Pathfinder!" returned the young
man, endeavoring to clear his voice without betraying
himself; "what is there about me to please such a girl as
Mabel Dunham?  I have all that you find fault with in
yourself, with none of that excellence that makes even the
generals respect you."

"Well, well, it's all chance, say what we will about it.
Here have I journeyed and guided through the woods fe-
male after female, and consorted with them in the garri-
sons, and never have I even felt an inclination for any,
until I saw Mabel Dunham.  It's true the poor Sergeant
first set me to thinking about his daughter; but after we
got a little acquainted like, I'd no need of being spoken
to, to think of her night and day.  I'm tough, Jasper; yes,
I'm very tough; and I'm risolute enough, as you all know;
and yet I do think it would quite break me down, now, to
lose Mabel Dunham!"

"We will talk no more of it, Pathfinder," said Jasper,
returning his friend's squeeze of the hand, and moving
back towards the fire, though slowly, and in the manner
of one who cared little where he went; "we will talk no
more of it.  You are worthy of Mabel, and Mabel is worthy
of you -- you like Mabel, and Mabel likes you -- her father
has chosen you for her husband, and no one has a right to
interfere.  As for the Quartermaster, his feigning love for
Mabel is worse even than his treason to the king."

By this time they were so near the fire that it was neces-
sary to change the conversation.  Luckily, at that instant,
Cap, who had been in the block in company with his dy-
ing brother-in-law, and who knew nothing of what had
passed since the capitulation, now appeared, walking with
a meditative and melancholy air towards the group.  Much
of that hearty dogmatism, that imparted even to his ordi-
nary air and demeanor an appearance of something like
contempt for all around him, had disappeared, and he
seemed thoughtful, if not meek.

"This death, gentlemen," said he, when ho had got suffi-
ciently near, "is a melancholy business, make the best of
it.  Now, here is Sergeant Dunham, a very good soldier, I
make no question, about to slip his cable; and yet he holds
on to the better end of it, as if he was determined it should
never run out of the hawse-hole; and all because he loves
his daughter, it seems to me.  For my part, when a friend
is really under the necessity of making a long journey, I
always wish him well and happily off."

"You wouldn't kill the Sergeant before his time?" Path-
finder reproachfully answered.  "Life is sweet, even to the
aged; and, for that matter, I've known some that seemed
to set much store by it when it got to be of the least value."

Nothing had been further from Cap's real thoughts than
the wish to hasten his brother-in-law's end.  He had found
himself embarrassed with the duties of smoothing a death-
bed, and all he had meant was to express a sincere desire
that the Sergeant were happily rid of doubt and suffering.
A little shocked, therefore, at the interpretation that had
been put on his words, he rejoined with some of the asper-
ity of the man, though rebuked by a consciousness of not
having done his own wishes justice.  "You are too old and
too sensible a person, Pathfinder," said be, "to fetch a man
up with a surge, when he is paying out his ideas in dis-
tress, as it might be.  Sergeant Dunham is both my
brother-in-law and my friend, -- that is to say, as intimate
a friend as a soldier well can be with a seafaring man, -- and
I respect and honor him accordingly.  I make no doubt,
moreover, that he has lived such a life as becomes a man,
and there can be no great harm, after all, in wishing any
one well berthed in heaven.  Well! we are mortal, the best
of us, that you'll not deny; and it ought to be a lesson
not to feel pride in our strength and beauty.  Where is
the Quartermaster, Pathfinder?  It is proper he should
come and have a parting word with the poor Sergeant, who
is only going a little before us."

"You have spoken more truth, Master Cap, than you've
been knowing to, all this time.  You might have gone
further, notwithstanding, and said that we are mortal, the
_worst_ of us; which is quite as true, and a good deal more
wholesome, than saying that we are mortal, the _best_ of us.
As for the Quartermaster's coming to speak a parting
word to the Sergeant, it is quite out of the question, seeing
that he has gone ahead, and that too with little parting
notice to himself, or to any one else."

"You are not quite so clear as common in your language,
Pathfinder.  I know that we ought all to have solemn
thoughts on these occasions, but I see no use in speaking
in parables."

"If my words are not plain, the idee is.  In short, Mas-
ter Cap, while Sergeant Dunham has been preparing him-
self for a long journey, like a conscientious and honest
man as he is, deliberately, the Quartermaster has started,
in a hurry, before him; and, although it is a matter on
which it does not become me to be very positive, I give it
as my opinion that they travel such different roads that
they will never meet."

"Explain yourself, my friend," said the bewildered sea-
man, looking around him in search of Muir, whose absence
began to excite his distrust.  "I see nothing of the Quar-
termaster; but I think him too much of a man to run
away, now that the victory is gained.  If the fight were
ahead instead of in our wake, the case would be altered."

"There lies all that is left of him, beneath that great-
coat," returned the guide, who then briefly related the
manner of the Lieutenant's death.  "The Tuscarora was
as venemous in his blow as a rattler, though he failed to
give the warning," continued Pathfinder.  "I've seen
many a desperate fight, and several of these sudden out-
breaks of savage temper; but never before did I see a hu-
man soul quit the body more unexpectedly, or at a worse
moment for the hopes of the dying man.  His breath was
stopped with the lie on his lips, and the spirit might be
said to have passed away in the very ardor of wickedness."

Cap listened with a gaping mouth; and he gave two or
three violent hems, as the other concluded, like one who
distrusted his own respiration.

"This is an uncertain and uncomfortable life of yours,
Master Pathfinder, what between the fresh water and the
savages," said he; "and the sooner I get quit of it, the
higher will be my opinion of myself.  Now you mention
it, I will say that the man ran for that berth in the rocks,
when the enemy first bore down upon us, with a sort of
instinct that I thought surprising in an officer; but I was
in too great a hurry to follow, to log the whole matter ac-
curately.  God bless me!  God bless me! -- a traitor, do you
say, and ready to sell his country, and to a rascally French-
man too?"

"To sell anything; country, soul, body, Mabel, and all
our scalps; and no ways particular, I'll engage, as to the
purchaser.  The countrymen of Captain Flinty-heart here
were the paymasters this time."

"Just like 'em; ever ready to buy when they can't
thrash, and to run when they can do neither."

Monsieur Sanglier lifted his cap with ironical gravity,
and acknowledged the compliment with an expression of
polite contempt that was altogether lost on its insensible
subject.  But Pathfinder had too much native courtesy,
and was far too just-minded, to allow the attack to go un-
noticed.

"Well, well," he interposed, "to my mind there is no
great difference 'atween an Englishman and a Frenchman,
after all.  They talk different tongues, and live under
different kings, I will allow; but both are human, and
feel like human beings, when there is occasion for it."

Captain Flinty-heart, as Pathfinder called him, made
another obeisance; but this time the smile was friendly,
and not ironical; for he felt that the intention was good,
whatever might have been the mode of expressing it.  Too
philosophical, however, to heed what a man like Cap
might say or think, he finished his breakfast, without al-
lowing his attention to be again diverted from that im-
portant pursuit.

"My business here was principally with the Quarter-
master," Cap continued, as soon as he had done regarding
the prisoner's pantomime.  "The Sergeant must be near
his end, and I have thought he might wish to say some-
thing to his successor in authority before he finally de-
parted.  It is too late, it would seem; and, as you say,
Pathfinder, the Lieutenant has truly gone before."

"That he has, though on a different path.  As for au-
thority, I suppose the Corporal has now a right to com-
mand what's left of the 55th; though a small and worried,
not to say frightened, party it is.  But, if anything needs
to be done, the chances are greatly in favor of my being
called on to do it.  I suppose, however, we have only to
bury our dead; set fire to the block and the huts, for they
stand in the inimy's territory by position, if not by law,
and must not be left for their convenience.  Our using
them again is out of the question; for, now the Frenchers
know where the island is to be found, it would be like
thrusting the hand into a wolf-trap with our eyes wide
open.  This part of the work the Sarpent and I will see
to, for we are as practysed in retreats as in advances."

"All that is very well, my good friend.  And now for
my poor brother-in-law: though he is a soldier, we cannot
let him slip without a word of consolation and a leave-
taking, in my judgment.  This has been an unlucky affair
on every tack; though I suppose it is what one had a right
to expect, considering the state of the times and the na-
ture of the navigation.  We must make the best of it, and
try to help the worthy man to unmoor, without straining
his messengers.  Death is a circumstance, after all, Master
Pathfinder, and one of a very general character too, seeing
that we must all submit to it, sooner or later."

"You say truth, you say truth; and for that reason I
hold it to be wise to be always ready.  I've often thought,
Saltwater, that he is the happiest who has the least to leave
behind him when the summons comes.  Now, here am I,
a hunter and a scout and a guide, although I do not own a
foot of land on 'arth, yet do I enjoy and possess more than
the great Albany Patroon.  With the heavens over my head
to keep me in mind of the last great hunt, and the dried
leaves beneath my feet, I tramp over the ground as freely
as if I was its lord and owner; and what more need heart
desire?  I do not say that I love nothing that belongs to
'arth; for I do, though not much, unless it might be Mabel
Dunham, that I can't carry with me.  I have some pups
at the higher fort that I vally considerable, though they
are too noisy for warfare, and so we are compelled to live
separate for awhile; and then I think it would grieve me
to part with Killdeer; but I see no reason why we should
not be buried in the same grave, for we are as near as can
be of the same length -- six feet to a hair's breadth; but,
bating these, and a pipe that the Sarpent gave me, and a
few tokens received from travellers, all of which might be
put in a pouch and laid under my head, when the order
comes to march I shall be ready at a minute's warning;
and, let me tell you, Master Cap, that's what I call a cir-
cumstance too."

"'Tis just so with me," answered the sailor, as the two
walked towards the block, too much occupied with their
respective morality to remember at the moment the mel-
ancholy errand they were on; "that's just my way of feel-
ing and reasoning.  How often have I felt, when near
shipwreck, the relief of not owning the craft!  'If she
goes,' I have said to myself, 'why, my life goes with her,
but not my property, and there's great comfort in that.'
I've discovered, in the course of boxing about the world
from the Horn to Cape North, not to speak of this run on
a bit of fresh water, that if a man has a few dollars, and
puts them in a chest under lock and key, he is pretty cer-
tain to fasten up his heart in the same till; and so I carry
pretty much all I own in a belt round my body, in order,
as I say, to keep the vitals in the right place.  D--- me,
Pathfinder, if I think a man without a heart any better
than a fish with a hole in his air-bag."

"I don't know how that may be, Master Cap; but a man
without a conscience is but a poor creatur', take my word
for it, as any one will discover who has to do with a Mingo.
I trouble myself but little with dollars or half-joes, for
these are the favoryte coin in this part of the world; but
I can easily believe, by what I've seen of mankind, that if
a man _has_ a chest filled with either, he may be said to lock
up his heart in the same box.  I once hunted for two sum-
mers, during the last peace, and I collected so much peltry
that I found my right feelings giving way to a craving
after property; and if I have consarn in marrying Mabel,
it is that I may get to love such things too well, in order
to make her comfortable."

"You're a philosopher, that's clear, Pathfinder; and I
don't know but you're a Christian."

"I should be out of humor with the man that gainsayed
the last, Master Cap.  I have not been Christianized by
the Moravians, like so many of the Delawares, it is true;
but I hold to Christianity and white gifts.  With me, it is
as on-creditable for a white man not to be a Christian as
it is for a red-skin not to believe in his happy hunting-
grounds; indeed, after allowing for difference in traditions,
and in some variations about the manner in which the
spirit will be occupied after death, I hold that a good Dela-
ware is a good Christian, though he never saw a Moravian;
and a good Christian a good Delaware, so far as natur 'is
consarned.  The Sarpent and I talk these matters over
often, for he has a hankerin' after Christianity -- "

"The d---l he has!" interrupted Cap.  "And what does
he intend to do in a church with all the scalps he takes?"

"Don't run away with a false idee, friend Cap, don't run
away with a false idee.  These things are only skin-deep,
and all depend on edication and nat'ral gifts.  Look
around you at mankind, and tell me why you see a red
warrior here, a black one there, and white armies in an-
other place?  All this, and a great deal more of the same
kind that I could point out, has been ordered for some
special purpose; and it is not for us to fly in the face of
facts and deny their truth.  No, no; each color has its
gifts, and its laws, and its traditions; and one is not to
condemn another because he does not exactly comprehend
it."

"You must have read a great deal, Pathfinder, to see
things so clear as this," returned Cap, not a little mystified
by his companion's simple creed.  "It's all as plain as day
to me now, though I must say I never fell in with these
opinions before.  What denomination do you belong to,
my friend?"

"Anan?"

"What sect do you hold out for?  What particular
church do you fetch up in?"

"Look about you, and judge for yourself.  I'm in church
now; I eat in church, drink in church, sleep in church.
The 'arth is the temple of the Lord, and I wait on Him
hourly, daily, without ceasing, I humbly hope.  No, no,
I'll not deny my blood and color; but am Christian born,
and shall die in the same faith.  The Moravians tried me
hard; and one of the King's chaplains has had his say too,
though that's a class no ways strenuous on such matters;
and a missionary sent from Rome talked much with me,
as I guided him through the forest, during the last peace;
but I've had one answer for them all -- I'm a Christian al-
ready, and want to be neither Moravian, nor Churchman,
nor Papist.  No, no, I'll not deny my birth and blood."

"I think a word from you might lighten the Sergeant
over the shoals of death, Master Pathfinder.  He has no
one with him but poor Mabel; and she, you know, besides
being his daughter, is but a girl and a child after all."

"Mabel is feeble in body, friend Cap; but in matters of
this natur' I dou bt if she may not be stronger than most
men.  But Sergeant Dunham is my friend, and he is your
brother-in-law; so, now the press of fighting and main-
taining our rights is over, it is fitting we should both go
and witness his departure.  I've stood by many a dying
man, Master Cap," continued Pathfinder, who had a be-
setting propensity to enlarge on his experience, stopping
and holding his companion by a button, -- "I've stood by
many a dying man's side, and seen his last gasp, and heard
his last breath; for, when the hurry and tumult of the
battle is over, it is good to bethink us of the misfortunate,
and it is remarkable to witness how differently human
natur' feels at such solemn moments.  Some go their way
as stupid and ignorant as if God had never given them
reason and an accountable state; while others quit us re-
joicing, like men who leave heavy burthens behind them.
I think that the mind sees clearly at such moments, my
friend, and that past deeds stand thick before the recollec-
tion."

"I'll engage they do, Pathfinder.  I have witnessed
something of this myself, and hope I'm the better man
for it.  I remember once that I thought my own time had
come, and the log was overhauled with a diligence I did
not think myself capable of until that moment.  I've not
been a very great sinner, friend Pathfinder; that is to say,
never on a large scale; though I daresay, if the truth were
spoken, a considerable amount of small matters might be
raked up against me, as well as against another man; but
then, I've never committed piracy, nor high treason, nor
arson, nor any of them sort of things.  As to smuggling,
and the like of that, why, I'm a seafaring man, and I sup-
pose all callings have their weak spots.  I daresay your
trade is not altogether without blemish, honorable and use-
ful as it seems to be?"

"Many of the scouts and guides are desperate knaves;
and, like the Quartermaster here, some of them take pay
of both sides.  I hope I'm not one of them, though all oc-
cupations lead to temptations.  Thrice have I been sorely
tried in my life, and once I yielded a little, though I hope
it was not in a matter to disturb a man's conscience in his
last moments.  The first time was when I found in the
woods a pack of skins that I knowed belonged to a Frencher
who was hunting on our side of the lines, where he had
no business to be; twenty-six as handsome beavers as ever
gladdened human eyes.  Well, that was a sore tempta-
tion; for I thought the law would have been almost with
me, although it was in peace times.  But then, I remem-
bered that such laws wasn't made for us hunters, and be-
thought me that the poor man might have built great
expectations for the next winter on the sale of his skins;
and I left them where they lay.  Most of our people said
I did wrong; but the manner in which I slept that night
convinced me that I had done right.  The next trial was
when I found the rifle that is sartainly the only one in this
part of the world that can be calculated on as surely as
Killdeer, and knowed that by taking it, or even hiding it,
I might at once rise to be the first shot in all these parts.
I was then young, and by no means so expart as I have
since got to be, and youth is ambitious and striving; but,
God be praised!  I mastered that feeling; and, friend Cap,
what is almost as good, I mastered my rival in as fair a
shooting-match as was ever witnessed in a garrison; he
with his piece, and I with Killdeer, and before the Gene-
ral in person too!"  Here Pathfinder stopped to laugh, his
triumph still glittering in his eyes and glowing on his sun-
burnt and browned cheek.  "Well, the next conflict with
the devil was the hardest of them all; and that was when
I came suddenly upon a camp of six Mingos asleep in the
woods, with their guns and horns piled in away that en-
abled me to get possession of them without waking a mis-
creant of them all.  What an opportunity that would have
been for the Sarpent, who would have despatched them,
one after another, with his knife, and had their six scalps
at his girdle, in about the time it takes me to tell you the
story.  Oh, he's a valiant warrior, that Chingachgook, and
as honest as he's brave, and as good as he's honest!"

"And what may _you_ have done in this matter, Master
Pathfinder?" demanded Cap, who began to be interested
in the result; "it seems to me you had made either a very
lucky, or a very unlucky landfall."

"'Twas lucky, and 'twas unlucky, if you can understand
that.  'Twas unlucky, for it proved a desperate trial; and
yet 'twas lucky, all things considered, in the ind.  I did
not touch a hair of their heads, for a white man has no
nat'ral gifts to take scalps; nor did I even make sure of
one of their rifles.  I distrusted myself, knowing that a
Mingo is no favorite in my own eyes."

"As for the scalps, I think you were right enough, my
worthy friend; but as for the armament and the stores,
they would have been condemned by any prize-court in
Christendom."

"That they would, that they would; but then the Mingos
would have gone clear, seeing that a white man can no
more attack an unarmed than a sleeping inimy.  No, no,
I did myself, and my color, and my religion too, greater
justice.  I waited till their nap was over, and they well on
their war-path again; and, by ambushing them here and
flanking them there, I peppered the blackguards intrinsi-
cally like" (Pathfinder occasionally caught a fine word
from his associates, and used it a little vaguely), "that only
one ever got back to his village, and he came into his wig-
wam limping.  Luckily, as it turned out, the great Dela-
ware had only halted to jerk some venison, and was follow-
ing on my trail; and when he got up he had five of the
scoundrels' scalps hanging where they ought to be; so, you
see, nothing was lost by doing right, either in the way of
honor or in that of profit."

Cap grunted an assent, though the distinctions in his
companion's morality, it must be owned, were not exactly
clear to his understanding.  The two had occasionally
moved towards the block as they conversed, and then
stopped again as some matter of more interest than com-
mon brought them to a halt.  They were now so near the
building, however, that neither thought of pursuing the
subject any further; but each prepared himself for the final
scene with Sergeant Dunham.



CHAPTER XXVIII.

Thou barraine ground, whom winter's wrath hath wasted,
   Art made a mirror to behold my plight:
Whilome thy fresh spring flower'd: and after hasted
   Thy summer proude, with daffodillies dight;
And now is come thy winter's stormy state,
Thy mantle mar'd wherein thou maskedst late.
SPENSER.


Although the soldier may regard danger and even
death with indifference in the tumult of battle, when the
passage of the soul is delayed to moments of tranquillity
and reflection the change commonly brings with it the
usual train of solemn reflections; of regrets for the past,
and of doubts and anticipations for the future.  Many a
man has died with a heroic expression on his lips, but with
heaviness and distrust at his heart; for, whatever may be
the varieties of our religious creeds, let us depend on the
mediation of Christ, the dogmas of Mahomet, or the elab-
orated allegories of the East, there is a conviction, common
to all men, that death is but the stepping-stone between
this and a more elevated state of being.  Sergeant Dun-
ham was a brave man; but he was departing for a country
in which resolution could avail him nothing; and as he
felt himself gradually loosened from the grasp of the world,
his thoughts and feelings took the natural direction; for
if it be true that death is the great leveller, in nothing is
it more true than that it reduces all to the same views of
the vanity of life.

Pathfinder, though a man of peculiar habits and opin-
ions, was always thoughtful, and disposed to view the
things around him with a shade of philosophy, as well as
with seriousness.  In him, therefore, the scene in the
blockhouse awakened no very novel feelings.  But the
case was different with Cap: rude, opinionated, dogmati-
cal, and boisterous, the old sailor was little accustomed to
view even death with any approach to the gravity which
its importance demands; and notwithstanding all that had
passed, and his real regard for his brother-in-law, he now
entered the room of the dying man with much of that
callous unconcern which was the fruit of long training in
a school that, while it gives so many lessons in the sublim-
est truths, generally wastes its admonitions on scholars
who are little disposed to profit by them.

The first proof that Cap gave of his not entering so fully
as those around him into the solemnity of the moment,
was by commencing a narration of the events which had
just led to the deaths of Muir and Arrowhead.  "Both
tripped their anchors in a hurry, brother Dunham," he
concluded; "and you have the consolation of knowing
that others have gone before you in the great journey, and
they, too, men whom you've no particular reason to love;
which to me, were I placed in your situation, would be a
source of very great satisfaction.  My mother always said,
Master Pathfinder, that dying people's spirits should not
be damped, but that they ought to be encouraged by all
proper and prudent means; and this news will give the
poor fellow a great lift, if he feels towards them savages
any way as I feel myself."

June arose at this intelligence, and stole from the block-
house with a noiseless step.  Dunham listened with a va-
cant stare, for life had already lost so many of its ties that
he had really forgotten Arrowhead, and cared nothing for
Muir; but he inquired, in a feeble voice, for Eau-douce.
The young man was immediately summoned, and soon
made his appearance.  The Sergeant gazed at him kindly,
and the expression of his eyes was that of regret for the
injury he had done him in thought.  The party in the
blockhouse now consisted of Pathfinder, Cap, Mabel, Jas-
por, and the dying man.  With the exception of the daugh-
ter, all stood around the Sergeant's pallet, in attendance
in his last moments.  Mabel kneeled at his side, now press-
ing a clammy hand to her head, now applying moisture to
the parched lips of her father.

"Your case will shortly be ourn, Sergeant," said Path-
finder, who could hardly be said to be awestruck by the
scene, for he had witnessed the approach and victories of
death too often for that; but who felt the full difference
between his triumphs in the excitement of battle and in
the quiet of the domestic circle; "and I make no question
we shall meet ag'in hereafter.  Arrowhead has gone his
way, 'tis true; but it can never be the way of a just In-
dian.  You've seen the last of him, for his path cannot be
the path of the just.  Reason is ag'in the thought in his
case, as it is also, in my judgment, ag'in it too in the case
of Lieutenant Muir.  You have done your duty in life;
and when a man does that, he may start on the longest
journey with a light heart and an actyve foot."

"I hope so, my friend: I've tried to do my duty."

"Ay, ay," put in Cap; "intention is half the battle; and
though you would have done better had you hove-to in
the offing and sent a craft in to feel how the land lay, things
might have turned out differently: no one here doubts
that you meant all for the best, and no one anywhere else,
I should think, from what I've seen of this world and read
of t'other."

"I did; yes.  I meant all for the best."

"Father!  Oh, my beloved father!"

"Magnet is taken aback by this blow, Master Pathfinder,
and can say or do but little to carry her father over the
shoals; so we must try all the harder to serve him a
friendly turn ourselves."

"Did you speak, Mabel?" Dunham asked, turning his
eyes in the direction of his daughter, for he was already
too feeble to turn his body.

"Yes, father; rely on nothing you have done yourself
for mercy and salvation; trust altogether in the blessed
mediation of the Son of God!"

"The chaplain has told us something like this, brother.
The dear child may be right."

"Ay, ay, that's doctrine, out of question.  He will be
our Judge, and keeps the log-book of our acts, and will
foot them all up at the last day, and then say who has
done well and who has done ill.  I do believe Mabel is
right; but then you need not be concerned, as no doubt
the account has been fairly kept."

"Uncle! -- dearest father! this is a vain illusion!  Oh, place
all your trust in the mediation of our Holy Redeemer!
Have you not often felt your own insufficiency to effect
your own wishes in the commonest things? and how can
you imagine yourself, by your own acts, equal to raise up
a frail and sinful nature sufficiently to be received into the
presence of perfect purity?  There is no hope for any but
in the mediation of Christ!"

"This is what the Moravians used to tell us," said Path-
finder to Cap in a low voice; "rely on it, Mabel is right."

"Right enough, friend Pathfinder, in the distances, but
wrong in the course.  I'm afraid the child will get the
Sergeant adrift, at the very moment when we had him in
the best of the water and in the plainest part of the chan-
nel."

"Leave it to Mabel, leave it to Mabel; she knows better
than any of us, and can do no harm."

"I have heard this before," Dunham at length replied.
"Ah, Mabel! it is strange for the parent to lean on the
child at a moment like this!"

"Put your trust in God, father; lean on His holy and
compassionate Son.  Pray, dearest, dearest father; pray
for His omnipotent support."

"I am not used to prayer.  Brother, Pathfinder -- Jasper,
can you help me to words?"

Cap scarcely knew what prayer meant, and he had no
answer to give.  Pathfinder prayed often, daily, if not
hourly; but it was mentally, in his own simple modes of
thinking, and without the aid of words at all.  In this
strait, therefore, he was as useless as the mariner, and had
no reply to make.  As for Jasper Eau-douce, though he
would gladly have endeavored to move a mountain to re-
lieve Mabel, this was asking assistance it exceeded his
power to give; and he shrank back with the shame that is
only too apt to overcome the young and vigorous, when
called on to perform an act that tacitly confesses their
real weakness and dependence on a superior power.

"Father," said Mabel, wiping her eyes, and endeavoring
to compose features that were pallid, and actually quiver-
ing with emotion, "I will pray with you, for you, for _my-
self_; for us _all_.  The petition of the feeblest and humblest
is never unheeded."

There was something sublime, as well as much that was
supremely touching, in this act of filial piety.  The quiet
but earnest manner in which this young creature prepared
herself to perform the duty; the self-abandonment with
which she forgot her sex's timidity and sex's shame, in
order to sustain her parent at that trying moment; the
loftiness of purpose with which she directed all her powers
to the immense object before her, with a woman's devotion
and a woman's superiority to trifles, when her affections
make the appeal; and the holy calm into which her grief
was compressed, rendered her, for the moment, an object
of something very like awe and veneration to her compan-
ions.

Mabel had been religiously educated; equally without
exaggeration and without self-sufficiency.  Her reliance on
God was cheerful and full of hope, while it was of the
humblest and most dependent nature.  She had been ac-
customed from childhood to address herself to the Deity
in prayer; taking example from the Divine mandate of
Christ Himself, who commanded His followers to abstain
from vain repetitions, and who has left behind Him a pe-
tition which is unequalled for sublimity, as if expressly to
rebuke the disposition of man to set up his own loose and
random thoughts as the most acceptable sacrifice.  The
sect in which she had been reared has furnished to its fol-
lowers some of the most beautiful compositions in the lan-
guage, as a suitable vehicle for its devotion and solicitations.
Accustomed to this mode of public and even private
prayer, the mind of our heroine had naturally fallen into
its train of lofty thought; her task had become improved
by its study, and her language elevated and enriched by
its phrases.  When she kneeled at the bedside of her
father, the very reverence of her attitude and manner pre-
pared the spectators for what was to come; and as her
affectionate heart prompted her tongue, and memory came
in aid of both, the petition and praises that she offered up
were of a character which might have worthily led the
spirits of angels.  Although the words were not slavishly
borrowed, the expressions partook of the simple dignity of
the liturgy to which she had been accustomed, and was
probably as worthy of the Being to whom they were ad-
dressed as they could well be made by human powers.
They produced their full impression on the hearers; for it
is worthy of remark, that, notwithstanding the pernicious
effects of a false taste when long submitted to, real sub-
limity and beauty are so closely allied to nature that they
generally find an echo in every heart.

But when our heroine came to touch upon the situation
of the dying man, she became the most truly persuasive;
for then she was the most truly zealous and natural.  The
beauty of the language was preserved, but it was sustained
by the simple power of love; and her words were warmed
by a holy zeal, that approached to the grandeur of true elo-
quence.  We might record some of her expressions, but
doubt the propriety of subjecting such sacred themes to a
too familiar analysis, and refrain.

The effect of this singular but solemn scene was differ-
ent on the different individuals present.  Dunham himself
was soon lost in the subject of the prayer; and he felt
some such relief as one who finds himself staggering on
the edge of a precipice, under a burthen difficult to be
borne, might be supposed to experience when he unex-
pectedly feels the weight removed, in order to be placed on
the shoulders of another better able to sustain it.  Cap
was surprised, as well as awed; though the effects on his
mind were not very deep or very lasting.  He wondered a
little at his own sensations, and had his doubts whether
they were so manly and heroic as they ought to be; but he
was far too sensible of the influence of truth, humility, re-
ligious submission, and human dependency, to think of
interposing with any of his crude objections.  Jasper
knelt opposite to Mabel, covered his face, and followed her
words, with an earnest wish to aid her prayers with his
own; though it may be questioned if his thoughts did not
dwell quite as much on the soft, gentle accents of the pe-
titioner as on the subject of her petition.

The effect on Pathfinder was striking and visible: visi-
ble, because he stood erect, also opposite to Mabel; and
the workings of his countenance, as usual, betrayed the
workings of the spirit within.  He leaned on his rifle, and
at moments the sinewy fingers grasped the barrel with a
force that seemed to compress the weapon; while, once or
twice, as Mabel's language rose in intimate association
with her thoughts, he lifted his eyes to the floor above
him, as if he expected to find some visible evidence of the
presence of the dread Being to whom the words were ad-
dressed.  Then again his feelings reverted to the fair crea-
ture who was thus pouring out her spirit, in fervent but
calm petitions, in behalf of a dying parent; for Mabel's
cheek was no longer pallid, but was flushed with a holy
enthusiasm, while her blue eyes were upturned in the
light, in a way to resemble a picture by Guido.  At these
moments all the honest and manly attachment of Path-
finder glowed in his ingenuous features, and his gaze at
our heroine was such as the fondest parent might fasten
on the child of his love.

Sergeant Dunham laid his hand feebly on the head of
Mabel as she ceased praying, and buried her face in his
blanket.

"Bless you, my beloved child! bless you!" he rather
whispered than uttered aloud; "this is truly consolation:
would that I too could pray!"

"Father, you know the Lord's Prayer; you taught it to
me yourself while I was yet an infant."

The Sergeant's face gleamed with a smile, for he _did_
remember to have discharged that portion at least of the
paternal duty, and the consciousness of it gave him incon-
ceivable gratification at that solemn moment.  He was
then silent for several minutes, and all present believed
that he was communing with God.

"Mabel, my child!" he at length uttered, in a voice
which seemed to be reviving, -- "Mabel, I'm quitting you."
The spirit at its great and final passage appears ever to
consider the body as nothing.  "I'm quitting you, my
child; where is your hand?"

"Here, dearest father -- here are both -- oh, take both!"

"Pathfinder," added the Sergeant, feeling on the oppo-
site side of the bed, where Jasper still knelt, and getting
one of the hands of the young man by mistake, "take it
- I leave you as her father -- as you and she may please --
bless you -- bless you both!"

At that awful instant, no one would rudely apprise the
Sergeant of his mistake; and he died a minute or two
later, holding Jasper's and Mabel's hands covered by both
his own.  Our heroine was ignorant of the fact until an
exclamation of Cap's announced the death of her father;
when, raising her face, she saw the eyes of Jasper riveted
on her own, and felt the warm pressure of his hand.  But
a single feeling was predominant at that instant, and
Mabel withdrew to weep, scarcely conscious of what had
occurred.  The Pathfinder took the arm of Eau-douce, and
he left the block.

The two friends walked in silence past the fire, along
the glade, and nearly reached the opposite shore of the
island in profound silence.  Here they stopped, and Path-
finder spoke.

"'Tis all over, Jasper," said he, -- "'tis all over.  Ah's me!
Poor Sergeant Dunham has finished his march, and that,
too, by the hand of a venomous Mingo.  Well, we never
know what is to happen, and his luck may be yourn or
mine to-morrow or next day!"

"And Mabel?  What is to become of Mabel, Pathfinder?"

"You heard the Sergeant's dying words; he has left his
child in my care, Jasper; and it is a most solemn trust, it
is; yes, -- it is a most solemn trust."

"It's a trust, Pathfinder, of which any man would be
glad to relieve you," returned the youth, with a bitter smile.

"I've often thought it has fallen into wrong hands.
I'm not consaited, Jasper; I'm not consaited, I do think
I'm not; but if Mabel Dunham is willing to overlook all
my imperfections and ignorances like, I should be wrong
to gainsay it, on account of any sartainty I may have my-
self about my own want of merit."

"No one will blame you, Pathfinder, for marrying Mabel
Dunham, any more than they will blame you for wearing
a precious jewel in your bosom that a friend had freely
given you."

"Do you think they'll blame Mabel, lad?  I've had my
misgivings about that, too; for all persons may not be so
disposed to look at me with the same eyes as you and the
Sergeant's daughter."

Jasper Eau-douce started as a man flinches at sudden
bodily pain; but he otherwise maintained his self-com-
mand.  "And mankind is envious and ill-natured, more
particularly in and about the garrisons.  I sometimes wish,
Jasper, that Mabel could have taken a fancy to you, -- I
do; and that you had taken a fancy to her; for it often
seems to me that one like you, after all, might make her
happier than I ever can."

"We will not talk about this, Pathfinder," interrupted
Jasper hoarsely and impatiently; "you will be Mabel's
husband, and it is not right to speak of any one else in
that character.  As for me, I shall take Master Cap's advice,
and try and make a man of myself by seeing what is to be
done on the salt water."

"You, Jasper Western! -- you quit the lakes, the forests,
and the lines; and this, too, for the towns and wasty ways
of the settlements, and a little difference in the taste of
the water.  Haven't we the salt-licks, if salt is necessary
to you? and oughtn't man to be satisfied with what con-
tents the other creaturs of God?  I counted on you, Jas-
per, I counted on you, I did; and thought, now that Mabel
and I intend to dwell in a cabin of our own, that some day
you might be tempted to choose a companion too, and
come and settle in our neighborhood.  There is a beauti-
ful spot, about fifty miles west of the garrison, that I had
chosen in my mind for my own place of abode; and there
is an excellent harbor about ten leagues this side of it
where you could run in and out with the cutter at any
leisure minute; and I'd even fancied you and your wife in
possession of the one place, and Mabel and I in possession
of t'other.  We should be just a healthy hunt apart; and
if the Lord ever intends any of His creaturs to be happy
on 'arth, none could be happier than we four."

"You forget, my friend," answered Jasper, taking the
guide's hand and forcing a friendly smile, "that I have
no fourth person to love and cherish; and I much doubt
if I ever shall love any other as I love you and Mabel."

"Thank'e, boy; I thank you with all my heart; but
what you call love for Mabel is only friendship like, and a
very different thing from what I feel.  Now, instead of
sleeping as sound as natur' at midnight, as I used to could,
I dream nightly of Mabel Dunham.  The young does sport
before me; and when I raise Killdeer, in order to take a
little venison, the animals look back, and it seems as if
they all had Mabel's sweet countenance, laughing in my
face, and looking as if they said, 'Shoot me if you dare!'
Then I hear her soft voice calling out among the birds as
they sing; and no later than the last nap I took, I be-
thought me, in fancy, of going over the Niagara, holding
Mabel in my arms, rather than part from her.  The bit-
terest moments I've ever known were them in which the
devil, or some Mingo conjuror, perhaps, has just put into
my head to fancy in dreams that Mabel is lost to me by
some unaccountable calamity -- either by changefulness or
by violence."

"Oh, Pathfinder! if you think this so bitter in a dream,
what must it be to one who feels its reality, and knows it
all to be true, true, true?  So true as to leave no hope; to
leave nothing but despair!"

These words burst from Jasper as a fluid pours from the
vessel that has been suddenly broken.  They were uttered
involuntarily, almost unconsciously, but with a truth and
feeling that carried with them the instant conviction of
their deep sincerity.  Pathfinder started, gazed at his friend
for full a minute like one bewildered, and then it was that,
in despite of all his simplicity, the truth gleamed upon
him.  All know how corroborating proofs crowd upon the
mind as soon as it catches a direct clue to any hitherto
unsuspected fact; how rapidly the thoughts flow and pre-
mises tend to their just conclusions under such circum-
stances.  Our hero was so confiding by nature, so just, and
so much disposed to imagine that all his friends wished
him the same happiness as he wished them, that, until this
unfortunate moment, a suspicion of Jasper's attachment
for Mabel had never been awakened in his bosom.  He
was, however, now too experienced in the emotions which
characterize the passion; and the burst of feeling in his
companion was too violent and too natural to leave any
further doubt on the subject.  The feeling that first fol-
lowed this change of opinion was one of deep humility and
exquisite pain.  He bethought him of Jasper's youth, his
higher claims to personal appearance, and all the general
probabilities that such a suitor would be more agreeable to
Mabel than he could possibly be himself.  Then the noble
rectitude of mind, for which the man was so distinguished,
asserted its power; it was sustained by his rebuked man-
ner of thinking of himself, and all that habitual deference
for the rights and feelings of others which appeared to be
inbred in his very nature.  Taking the arm of Jasper, he
led him to a log, where he compelled the young man to
seat himself by a sort of irresistible exercise of his iron
muscles, and where he placed himself at his side.

The instant his feelings had found vent, Eau-douce was
both alarmed at, and ashamed of, their violence.  He
would have given all he possessed on earth could the last
three minutes be recalled; but he was too frank by dispo-
sition and too much accustomed to deal ingenuously by
his friend to think a moment of attempting further con-
cealment, or of any evasion of the explanation that he
knew was about to be demanded.  Even while he trembled
in anticipation of what was about to follow, he never con-
templated equivocation.

"Jasper," Pathfinder commenced, in a tone so solemn
as to thrill on every nerve in his listener's body, "this _has_
surprised me!  You have kinder feelings towards Mabel
than I had thought; and, unless my own mistaken vanity
and consait have cruelly deceived me, I pity you, boy, from
my soul I do!  Yes, I think I know how to pity any one who
has set his heart on a creature like Mabel, unless he sees
a prospect of her regarding him as he regards her.  This
matter must be cleared up, Eau-douce, as the Delawares
say, until there shall not be a cloud 'atween us."

"What clearing up can it want, Pathfinder?  I love
Mabel Dunham, and Mabel Dunham does not love me;
she prefers you for a husband; and the wisest thing I can
do is to go off at once to the salt water, and try to forget
you both."

"Forget me, Jasper! that would be a punishment I
don't desarve.  But how do you know that Mabel prefars
_me_? how do you know it, lad?  To me it seems impossible
like!"

"Is she not to marry you, and would Mabel marry a
man she does not love?"

"She has been hard urged by the Sergeant, she has;
and a dutiful child may have found it difficult to with-
stand the wishes of a dying parent.  Have you ever told
Mabel that you prefarred her, Jasper -- that you bore her
these feelings?"

"Never, Pathfinder.  I would not do you that wrong."

"I believe you, lad, I do believe you; and I think you
would now go off to the salt water, and let the scent die
with you.  But this must not be.  Mabel shall hear all,
and she shall have her own way, if my heart breaks in
the trial, she shall.  No words have ever passed 'atween
you, then, Jasper?"

"Nothing of account, nothing direct.  Still, I will own
all my foolishness, Pathfinder; for I ought to own it to a
generous friend like you, and there will be an end of it.
You know how young people understand each other, or
think they understand each other, without always speak-
ing out in plain speech, and get to know each other's
thoughts, or to think they know them, by means of a hun-
dred little ways."

"Not I, Jasper, not I," truly answered the guide; for,
sooth to say, his advances had never been met with any of
that sweet and precious encouragement which silently
marks the course of sympathy united to passion.  "Not
I, Jasper; I know nothing of all this.  Mabel has always
treated me fairly, and said what she has had to say in
speech as plain as tongue could tell it."

"You have had the pleasure of hearing her say that she
loved you, Pathfinder?"

"Why, no, Jasper, not just that in words.  She has told
me that we never could, never ought to be married; that
_she_ was not good enough for _me_, though she _did_ say that
she honored me and respected me.  But then the Sergeant
said it was always so with the youthful and timid; that
her mother did so and said so afore her; and that I ought
to be satisfied if she would consent on any terms to marry
me, and therefore I have concluded that all was right, I
have."

In spite of all his friendship for the successful wooer, in
spite of all his honest, sincere wished for his happiness,
we should be unfaithful chroniclers did we not own that
Jasper felt his heart bound with an uncontrollable feeling
of delight at this admission.  It was not that he saw or
felt any hope connected with the circumstance; but it was
grateful to the jealous covetousness of unlimited love thus
to learn that no other ears had heard the sweet confessions
that were denied its own.

"Tell me more of this manner of talking without the
use of the tongue," continued Pathfinder, whose counte-
nance was becoming grave, and who now questioned his
companion like one who seemed to anticipate evil in the
reply.  "I can and have conversed with Chingachgook,
and with his son Uncas too, in that mode, afore the latter
fell; but I didn't know that young girls practysed this
art, and, least of all, Mabel Dunham."

"'Tis nothing, Pathfinder.  I mean only a look, or a
smile, or a glance of the eye, or the trembling of an arm
or a hand when the young woman has had occasion to
touch me; and because I have been weak enough to trem-
ble even at Mabel's breath, or her brushing me with her
clothes, my vain thoughts have misled me.  I never spoke
plainly to Mabel myself, and now there is no use for it,
since there is clearly no hope."

"Jasper," returned Pathfinder simply, but with a dig-
nity that precluded further remarks at the moment, "we
will talk of the Sergeant's funeral and of our own depar-
ture from this island.  After these things are disposed of,
it will be time enough to say more of the Sergeant's
daughter.  This matter must be looked into, for the father
left me the care of his child."

Jasper was glad enough to change the subject, and the
friends separated, each charged with the duty most pecu-
liar to his own station and habits.

That afternoon all the dead were interred, the grave of
Sergeant Dunham being dug in the centre of the glade,
beneath the shade of a huge elm.  Mabel wept bitterly at
the ceremony, and she found relief in thus disburthening
her sorrow.  The night passed tranquilly, as did the whole
of the following day, Jasper declaring that the gale was
too severe to venture on the lake.  This circumstance de-
tained Captain Sanglier also, who did not quit the island
until the morning of the third day after the death of Dun-
ham, when the weather had moderated, and the wind had
become fair.  Then, indeed, he departed, after taking
leave of the Pathfinder, in the manner of one who believed
he was in company of a distinguished character for the
last time.  The two separated like those who respect one
another, while each felt that the other was all enigma to
himself.



CHAPTER XXIX.

Playful she turn'd that he might see
   The passing smile her cheek put on;
But when she marked how mournfully
  His eyes met hers, that smile was gone.
_Lalla Rookh._


The occurrences of the last few days had been too ex-
citing, and had made too many demands on the fortitude
of our heroine, to leave her in the helplessness of grief.
She mourned for her father, and she occasionally shud-
dered as she recalled the sudden death of Jennie, and all
the horrible scenes she had witnessed; but on the whole
she had aroused herself, and was no longer in the deep
depression which usually accompanies grief.  Perhaps the
overwhelming, almost stupefying sorrow that crushed poor
June, and left her for nearly twenty-four hours in a state
of stupor, assisted Mabel in conquering her own feelings,
for she had felt called on to administer consolation to the
young Indian woman.  This she had done in the quiet,
soothing, insinuating way in which her sex usually exerts
its influence on such occasions.

The morning of the third day was set for that on which
the _Scud_ was to sail.  Jasper had made all his prepara-
tions; the different effects were embarked, and Mabel had
taken leave of June, a painful and affectionate parting.  In
a word, all was ready, and every soul had left the island
but the Indian woman, Pathfinder, Jasper, and our hero-
ine.  The former had gone into a thicket to weep, and the
three last were approaching the spot where three canoes
lay, one of which was the property of June, and the other
two were in waiting to carry the others off to the _Scud_.
Pathfinder led the way, but, when he drew near the shore,
instead of taking the direction to the boats, he motioned
to his companions to follow, and proceeded to a fallen tree
which lay on the margin of the glade and out of view of
those in the cutter.  Seating himself on the trunk, he
signed to Mabel to take her place on one side of him and
to Jasper to occupy the other.

"Sit down here Mabel; sit down there, Eau-douce," he
commenced, as soon as he had taken his own seat.  "I've
something that lies heavy on my mind, and now is the
time to take it off, if it's ever to be done.  Sit down, Mabel,
and let me lighten my heart, if not my conscience, while
I've the strength to do it."

The pause that succeeded lasted two or three minutes, and
both the young people wondered what was to come next;
the idea that Pathfinder could have any weight on his con-
science seeming equally improbable to each.

"Mabel," our hero at length resumed, "we must talk
plainly to each other afore we join your uncle in the cut-
ter, where the Saltwater has slept every night since the
last rally, for he says it's the only place in which a man
can be sure of keeping the hair on his head, he does.  Ah's
me! what have I to do with these follies and sayings now?
I try to be pleasant, and to feel light-hearted, but the power
of man can't make water run up stream.  Mabel, you know
that the Sergeant, afore he left us, had settled it 'atween
us two that we were to become man and wife, and that we
were to live together and to love one another as long as
the Lord was pleased to keep us both on 'arth; yes, and
afterwards too?"

Mabel's cheeks had regained a little of their ancient
bloom in the fresh air of the morning; but at this un-
looked-for address they blanched again, nearly to the pal-
lid hue which grief had imprinted there.  Still, she looked
kindly, though seriously, at Pathfinder and even endeav-
ored to force a smile.

"Very true, my excellent friend," she answered; "this
was my poor father's wish, and I feel certain that a whole
life devoted to your welfare and comforts could scarcely
repay you for all you have done for us."

"I fear me, Mabel, that man and wife needs be bound
together by a stronger tie than such feelings, I do.  You
have done nothing for me, or nothing of any account, and
yet my very heart yearns towards you, it does; and there-
fore it seems likely that these feelings come from some-
thing besides saving scalps and guiding through woods."

Mabel's cheek had begun to glow again; and though she
struggled hard to smile, her voice trembled a little as she
answered.

"Had we not better postpone this conversation, Path-
finder?" she said; "we are not alone; and nothing is so
unpleasant to a listener, they say, as family matters in
which he feels no interest."

"It's because we are not alone, Mabel, or rather because
Jasper is with us, that I wish to talk of this matter.  The
Sergeant believed I might make a suitable companion for
you, and, though I had misgivings about it, -- yes, I had
many misgivings, -- he finally persuaded me into the idee,
and things came round 'atween us, as you know.  But,
when you promised your father to marry me, Mabel, and
gave me your hand so modestly, but so prettily, there was
one circumstance, as your uncle called it, that you didn't
know; and I've thought it right to tell you what it is,
before matters are finally settled.  I've often taken a poor
deer for my dinner when good venison was not to be
found; but it's as nat'ral not to take up with the worst
when the best may be had."

"You speak in a way, Pathfinder, that is difficult to be
understood.  If this conversation is really necessary, I
trust you will be more plain."

"Well then, Mabel, I've been thinking it was quite
likely, when you gave in to the Sergeant's wishes, that you
did not know the natur' of Jasper Western's feelings
towards you?"

"Pathfinder!" and Mabel's cheek now paled to the livid
hue of death; then it flushed to the tint of crimson; and
her whole frame shuddered.  Pathfinder, however, was too
intent on his own object to notice this agitation; and Eau-
douce had hidden his face in his hands in time to shut out
its view.

"I've been talking with the lad; and, on comparing his
dreams with my dreams, his feelings with my feelings, and
his wishes with my wishes, I fear we think too much alike
consarning you for both of us to be very happy."

"Pathfinder, you forget; you should remember that we
are betrothed!" said Mabel hastily, and in a voice so low
that it required acute attention in the listeners to catch
the syllables.  Indeed the last word was not quite intel-
ligible to the guide, and he confessed his ignorance by the
usual, --

"Anan?"

"You forget that we are to be married; and such allu-
sions are improper as well as painful."

"Everything is proper that is right, Mabel; and every-
thing is right that leads to justice and fair dealing; though
it _is painful_ enough, as you say, as I find on trial, I do.
Now, Mabel, had you known that Eau-douce thinks of you
in this way, maybe you never would have consented to be
married to one as old and as uncomely as I am."

"Why this cruel trial, Pathfinder?  To what can all this
lead?  Jasper Western thinks no such thing: he says
nothing he feels nothing."

"Mabel!" burst from out of the young man's lips, in a
way to betray the uncontrollable nature of his emotions,
though he uttered not another syllable.

Mabel buried her face in both her hands; and the two
sat like a pair of guilty beings, suddenly detected in the
commission of some crime which involved the happiness
of a common patron.  At that instant, perhaps, Jasper
himself was inclined to deny his passion, through an ex-
treme unwillingness to grieve his friend; while Mabel, on
whom this positive announcement of a fact that she had
rather unconsciously hoped than believed, came so unex-
pectedly, felt her mind momentarily bewildered; and she
scarcely knew whether to weep or to rejoice.  Still she was
the first to speak; since Eau-douce could utter naught that
would be disingenuous, or that would pain his friend.

"Pathfinder," said she, "you talk wildly.  Why mention
this at all?"

"Well, Mabel, if I talk wildly, I _am_ half wild, you know,
by natur', I fear, as well as by habit."  As he said this, he
endeavored to laugh in his usual noiseless way, but the
effect produced a strange and discordant sound; and it
appeared nearly to choke him.  "Yes, I _must_ be wild; I'll
not attempt to deny it."

"Dearest Pathfinder! my best, almost my only friend!
you _cannot, do not_ think I intended to say that!" inter-
rupted Mabel, almost breathless in her haste to relieve his
mortification.  "If courage, truth, nobleness of soul and
conduct, unyielding principles, and a hundred other excel-
lent qualities can render any man respectable, esteemed,
or beloved, your claims are inferior to those of no other
human being."

"What tender and bewitching voices they have, Jasper!"
resumed the guide, now laughing freely and naturally.
"Yes, natur' seems to have made them on purpose to sing
in our ears, when the music of the woods is silent.  But
we must come to a right understanding, we must.  I ask
you again, Mabel, if you had known that Jasper Western
loves you as well as I do, or better perhaps, though that is
scarcely possible; that in his dreams he sees your face in
the water of the lake; that he talks to you, and of you, in
his sleep; fancies all that is beautiful like Mabel Dunham,
and all that is good and virtuous; believes he never knowed
happiness until he knowed you; could kiss the ground on
which you have trod, and forgets all the joys of his call-
ing to think of you and the delight of gazing at your
beauty and in listening to your voice, would you then have
consented to marry me?"

Mabel could not have answered this question if she
would; but, though her face was buried in her hands, the
tint of the rushing blood was visible between the open-
ings, and the suffusion seemed to impart itself to her very
fingers.  Still nature asserted her power, for there was a
single instant when the astonished, almost terrified girl
stole a glance at Jasper, as if distrusting Pathfinder's his-
tory of his feelings, read the truth of all he said in that
furtive look, and instantly concealed her face again, as if
she would hide it from observation for ever.

"Take time to think, Mabel," the guide continued, "for
it is a solemn thing to accept one man for a husband while
the thoughts and wishes lead to another.  Jasper and I
have talked this matter over, freely and like old friends,
and, though I always knowed that we viewed most things
pretty much alike, I couldn't have thought that we re-
garded any particular object with the very same eyes, as
it might be, until we opened our minds to each other about
you.  Now Jasper owns that the very first time he beheld
you, he thought you the sweetest and winningestest crea-
tur' he had ever met; that your voice sounded like mur-
muring water in his ears; that he fancied his sails were your
garments fluttering in the wind; that your laugh haunted
him in his sleep; and that ag'in and ag'in has he started
up affrighted, because he has fancied some one wanted to
force you out of the _Scud_, where he imagined you had
taken up your abode.  Nay, the lad has even acknowledged
that he often weeps at the thought that you are likely to
spend your days with another, and not with him."

"Jasper!"

"It's solemn truth, Mabel, and it's right you should know
it.  Now stand up, and choose 'atween us.  I do believe
Eau-douce loves you as well as I do myself; he has tried
to persuade me that he loves you better, but that I will
not allow, for I do not think it possible; but I will own
the boy loves you, heart and soul, and he has a good right
to be heard.  The Sergeant left me your protector, and
not your tyrant.  I told him that I would be a father to
you as well as a husband, and it seems to me no feeling
father would deny his child this small privilege.  Stand
up, Mabel, therefore, and speak your thoughts as freely as
if I were the Sergeant himself, seeking your good, and
nothing else."

Mabel dropped her hands, arose, and stood face to face
with her two suitors, though the flush that was on her
cheeks was feverish, the evidence of excitement rather
than of shame.

"What would you have, Pathfinder?" she asked; "have
I not already promised my poor father to do all you de-
sire?"

"Then I desire this.  Here I stand, a man of the forest
and of little larning, though I fear with an ambition be-
yond my desarts, and I'll do my endivors to do justice to
both sides.  In the first place, it is allowed that, so far as
feelings in your behalf are consarned, we love you just the
same; Jasper thinks his feelings _must_ be the strongest,
but this I cannot say in honesty, for it doesn't seem to me
that it _can_ be true, else I would frankly and freely confess it,
I would.  So in this particular, Mabel, we are here before
you on equal tarms.  As for myself, being the oldest, I'll
first say what little can be produced in my favor, as well
as ag'in it.  As a hunter, I do think there is no man near
the lines that can outdo me.  If venison, or bear's meat,
or even birds and fish, should ever be scarce in our cabin,
it would be more likely to be owing to natur' and Provi-
dence than to any fault of mine.  In short, it does seem
to me that the woman who depended on me would never
be likely to want for food.  But I'm fearful ignorant!  It's
true I speak several tongues, such as they be, while I'm
very far from being expart at my own.  Then, my years
are greater than your own, Mabel; and the circumstance that
I was so long the Sergeant's comrade can be no great merit
in your eyes.  I wish, too, I was more comely, I do; but
we are all as natur' made us, and the last thing that a man
ought to lament, except on very special occasions, is his
looks.  When all is remembered, age, looks, learning, and
habits, Mabel, conscience tells me I ought to confess that
I'm altogether unfit for you, if not downright unworthy;
and I would give up the hope this minute, I would, if I
didn't feel something pulling at my heart-strings which
seems hard to undo."

"Pathfinder! noble, generous Pathfinder!" cried our
heroine, seizing his hand and kissing it with a species of
holy reverence; "you do yourself injustice -- you forget my
poor father and your promise -- you do not know _me_!"

"Now, here's Jasper," continued the guide, without al-
lowing the girl's caresses to win him from his purpose,
"with _him_ the case is different.  In the way of providing,
as in that of loving, there's not much to choose 'atween
us; for the lad is frugal, industrious, and careful.  Then
he is quite a scholar, knows the tongue of the Frenchers,
reads many books, and some, I know, that you like to read
yourself, can understand you at all times, which, perhaps,
is more than I can say for myself."

"What of all this?" interrupted Mabal impatiently;
"why speak of it now -- why speak of it at all?"

"Then the lad has a manner of letting his thoughts be
known, that I fear I can never equal.  If there's anything
on 'arth that would make my tongue bold and persuading,
Mabel, I do think it's yourself; and yet in our late conver-
sations Jasper has outdone me, even on this point, in a
way to make me ashamed of myself.  He has told me how
simple you were, and how true-hearted, and kind-hearted;
and how you looked down upon vanities, for though you
might be the wife of more than one officer, as he thinks,
that you cling to feeling, and would rather be true to
yourself and natur' than a colonel's lady.  He fairly made
my blood warm, he did, when he spoke of your having
beauty without seeming ever to have looked upon it, and
the manner in which you moved about like a young fa'n,
so nat'ral and graceful like, without knowing it; and the
truth and justice of your idees, and the warmth and gener-
osity of your heart -- "

"Jasper!" interrupted Mabel, giving way to feelings
that had gathered an ungovernable force by being so long
pent, and falling into the young man's willing arms, weep-
ing like a child, and almost as helpless.  "Jasper!  Jasper!
why have you kept this from me?"

The answer of Eau-douce was not very intelligible, nor
was the murmured dialogue that followed remarkable for
coherency.  But the language of affection is easily under-
stood.  The hour that succeeded passed like a very few
minutes of ordinary life, so far as a computation of time
was concerned; and when Mabel recollected herself, and
bethought her of the existence of others, her uncle was pac-
ing the cutter's deck in great impatience, and wondering
why Jasper should be losing so much of a favorable wind.
Her first thought was of him, who was so likely to feel the
recent betrayal of her real emotions.

"Oh, Jasper," she exclaimed, like one suddenly self-
convicted, "the Pathfinder!"

Eau-douce fairly trembled, not with unmanly apprehen-
sion, but with the painful conviction of the pang he had
given his friend; and he looked in all directions in the
expectation of seeing his person.  But Pathfinder had
withdrawn, with a tact and a delicacy that might have
done credit to the sensibility and breeding of a courtier.
For several minutes the two lovers sat, silently waiting his
return, uncertain what propriety required of them under
circumstances so marked and so peculiar.  At length they
beheld their friend advancing slowly towards them, with
a thoughtful and even pensive air.

"I now understand what you meant, Jasper, by speaking
without a tongue and hearing without an ear," he said
when close enough to the tree to be heard.  "Yes, I un-
derstand it now, I do; and a very pleasant sort of discourse
it is, when one can hold it with Mabel Dunham.  Ah's me!
I told the Sergeant I wasn't fit for her; that I was too
old, too ignorant, and too wild like; but he _would_ have it
otherwise."

Jasper and Mabel sat, resembling Milton's picture of
our first parents, when the consciousness of sin first laid
its leaden weight on their souls.  Neither spoke, neither
even moved; though both at that moment fancied they
could part with their new-found happiness in order to re-
store their friend to his peace of mind.  Jasper was pale
as death, but, in Mabel, maiden modesty had caused the
blood to mantle on her cheeks, until their bloom was
heightened to a richness that was scarcely equalled in her
hours of light-hearted buoyancy and joy.  As the feeling
which, in her sex, always accompanies the security of love
returned, threw its softness and tenderness over her coun-
tenance, she was singularly beautiful.  Pathfinder gazed
at her with an intentness he did not endeavor to conceal,
and then he fairly laughed in his own way, and with a sort
of wild exultation, as men that are untutored are wont to
express their delight.  This momentary indulgence, how-
ever, was expiated by the pang which followed the sudden
consciousness that this glorious young creature was lost to
him for ever.  It required a full minute for this simple-
minded being to recover from the shock of this conviction;
and then he recovered his dignity of manner, speaking
with gravity, almost with solemnity.

"I have always known, Mabel Dunham, that men have
their gifts," said he; "but I'd forgotten that it did not
belong to mine to please the young, the beautiful, and
l'arned.  I hope the mistake has been no very heavy sin;
and if it was, I've been heavily punished for it, I have.
Nay, Mabel, I know what you'd say, but it's unnecessary;
I _feel_ it all, and that is as good as if I _heard_ it all.  I've
had a bitter hour, Mabel.  I've had a very bitter hour,
lad."

"Hour!" echoed Mabel, as the other first used the
word; the tell-tale blood, which had begun to ebb towards
her heart, rushing again tumultuously to her very tem-
ples; "surely not an hour, Pathfinder?"

"Hour!" exclaimed Jasper at the same instant; "no,
no, my worthy friend, it is not ten minutes since you left
us!"

"Well, it may be so; though to me it has seemed to be
day.  I begin to think, however, that the happy count
time by minutes, and the miserable count it by months.
But we will talk no more of this; it is all over now, and
many words about it will make you no happier, while they
will only tell me what I've lost; and quite likely how much
I desarved to lose her.  No, no, Mabel, 'tis useless to in-
terrupt me; I admit it all, and your gainsaying it, though
it be so well meant, cannot change my mind.  Well, Jas-
per, she is yours; and, though it's hard to think it, I do
believe you'll make her happier than I could, for your gifts
are better suited to do so, though I would have strived
hard to do as much, if I know myself, I would.  I ought
to have known better than to believe the Sergeant; and I
ought to have put faith in what Mabel told me at the head
of the lake, for reason and judgment might have shown
me its truth; but it is so pleasant to think what we wish,
and mankind so easily over-persuade us, when we over-per-
suade ourselves.  But what's the use in talking of it, as I
said afore?  It's true, Mabel seemed to be consenting,
though it all came from a wish to please her father, and
from being skeary about the savages -- "

"Pathfinder!"

"I understand you, Mabel, and have no hard feelings, I
haven't.  I sometimes think I should like to live in your
neighborhood, that I might look at your happiness; but,
on the whole, it's better I should quit the 55th altogether,
and go back to the 60th, which is my natyve rigiment, as
it might be.  It would have been better, perhaps, had I
never left it, though my sarvices were much wanted in
this quarter, and I'd been with some of the 55th years
agone; Sergeant Dunham, for instance, when he was in
another corps.  Still, Jasper, I do not regret that I've
known you -- "

"And me, Pathfinder!" impetuously interrupted Mabel;
"do you regret having known _me_?  Could I think so, I
should never be at peace with myself."

"You, Mabel!" returned the guide, taking the hand of
our heroine and looking up into her countenance with
guileless simplicity, but earnest affection; "how could I
be sorry that a ray of the sun came across the gloom of a
cheerless day -- that light has broken in upon darkness,
though it remained so short a time?  I do not flatter
myself with being able to march quite so light-hearted
as I once used to could, or to sleep as sound, for some time
to come; but I shall always remember how near I was to
being undeservedly happy, I shall.  So far from blaming
you, Mabel, I only blame myself for being so vain as to
think it possible I could please such a creatur'; for sar-
tainly you told me how it was, when we talked it over on
the mountain, and I ought to have believed you then; for
I do suppose it's nat'ral that young women should know
their own minds better than their fathers.  Ah's me!  It's
settled now, and nothing remains but for me to take leave
of you, that you may depart; I feel that Master Cap must
be impatient, and there is danger of his coming on shore
to look for us all."

"To take leave!" exclaimed Mabel.

"Leave!" echoed Jasper; "you do not mean to quit us,
my friend?"

"'Tis best, Mabel, 'tis altogether best, Eau-douce; and
it's wisest.  I could live and die in your company, if I only
followed feeling; but, if I follow reason, I shall quit you
here.  You will go back to Oswego, and become man and
wife as soon as you arrive, -- for all that is determined with
Master Cap, who hankers after the sea again, and who
knows what is to happen, -- while I shall return to the wil-
derness and my Maker.  Come, Mabel," continued Path-
finder, rising and drawing nearer to our heroine, with grave
decorum, "kiss me; Jasper will not grudge me one kiss;
then we'll part."

"Oh, Pathfinder!" exclaimed Mabel, falling into the
arms of the guide, and kissing his cheeks again and again,
with a freedom and warmth she had been far from mani-
festing while held to the bosom of Jasper; "God bless you,
dearest Pathfinder!  You'll come to us hereafter.  We
shall see you again.  When old, you will come to our
dwelling, and let me be a daughter to you?"

"Yes, that's it," returned the guide, almost gasping for
breath; "I'll try to think of it in that way.  You're more
befitting to be my daughter than to be my wife, you are.
Farewell, Jasper.  Now we'll go to the canoe; it's time
you were on board."

The manner in which Pathfinder led the way to the
shore was solemn and calm.  As soon as he reached the
canoe, he again took Mabel by the hands, held her at the
length of his own arms, and gazed wistfully into her face,
until the unbidden tears rolled out of the fountains of
feeling and trickled down his rugged cheeks in streams.

"Bless me, Pathfinder," said Mabel, kneeling reverently
at his feet.  "Oh, at least bless me before we part!"

That untutored but noble-minded being did as she de-
sired; and, aiding her to enter the canoe, seemed to tear
himself away as one snaps a strong and obstinate cord.
Before he retired, however, he took Jasper by the arm and
led him a little aside, when he spoke as follows: --

"You're kind of heart and gentle by natur', Jasper; but
we are both rough and wild in comparison with that dear
creatur'.  Be careful of her, and never show the roughness
of man's natur' to her soft disposition.  You'll get to un-
derstand her in time; and the Lord, who governs the lake
and the forest alike, who looks upon virtue with a smile
and upon vice with a frown, keep you happy and worthy
to be so!"

Pathfinder made a sign for his friend to depart, and he
stood leaning on his rifle until the canoe had reached the
side of the _Scud_. Mabel wept as if her heart would break;
nor did her eyes once turn from the open spot in the glade,
where the form of the Pathfinder was to be seen, until the
cutter had passed a point that completely shut out the
island.  When last in view, the sinewy frame of this extra-
ordinary man was as motionless as if it were a statue set
up in that solitary place to commemorate the scenes of
which it had so lately been the witness.



CHAPTER XXX.

Oh! let me only breathe the air,
   The blessed air that's breath'd by thee;
And, whether on its wings it bear
   Healing or death, 'tis sweet to me!
MOORE.


Pathfinder was accustomed to solitude; but, when
the _Scud_ had actually disappeared, he was almost overcome
with a sense of his loneliness.  Never before had he been
conscious of his isolated condition in the world; for his
feelings had gradually been accustoming themselves to the
blandishments and wants of social life; particularly as the
last were connected with the domestic affections.  Now, all
had vanished, as it might be, in one moment; and he was
left equally without companions and without hope.  Even
Chingachgook had left him, though it was but temporarily;
still his presence was missed at the precise instant which
might be termed the most critical in our hero's life.

Pathfinder stood leaning on his rifle, in the attitude
described in the last chapter, a long time after the _Scud_
had disappeared.  The rigidity of his limbs seemed per-
manent; and none but a man accustomed to put his mus-
cles to the severest proof could have maintained that pos-
ture, with its marble-like inflexibility, for so great a length
of time.  At length he moved away from the spot; the
motion of the body being preceded by a sigh that seemed
to heave up from the very depths of his bosom.

It was a peculiarity of this extraordinary being that his
senses and his limbs, for all practical purposes, were never
at fault, let the mind be preoccupied with other interests as
much as it might.  On the present occasion neither of
these great auxiliaries failed him; but, though his thoughts
were exclusively occupied with Mabel, her beauty, her pref-
erence of Jasper, her tears, and her departure, he moved
in a direct line to the spot where June still remained,
which was the grave of her husband.  The conversation
that followed passed in the language of the Tuscaroras,
which Pathfinder spoke fluently; but, as that tongue is
understood only by the extremely learned, we shall trans-
late it freely into the English; preserving, as far as possi-
ble, the tone of thought of each interlocutor, as well as the
peculiarities of manner.  June had suffered her hair to fall
about her face, had taken a seat on a stone which had been
dug from the excavation made by the grave, and was hang-
ing over the spot which contained the body of Arrowhead,
unconscious of the presence of any other.  She believed,
indeed, that all had left the island but herself, and the
tread of the guide's moccassined foot was too noiseless
rudely to undeceive her.

Pathfinder stood gazing at the woman for several min-
utes in mute attention.  The contemplation of her grief,
the recollection of her irreparable loss, and the view of her
desolation produced a healthful influence on his own feel-
ings; his reason telling him how much deeper lay the
sources of grief in a young wife, who was suddenly and
violently deprived of her husband, than in himself.

"Dew-of-June," he said solemnly, but with an earnest-
ness which denoted the strength of his sympathy, "you
are not alone in your sorrow.  Turn, and let your eyes look
upon a friend."

"June has no longer any friend!" the woman answered.
"Arrowhead has gone to the happy hunting-grounds, and
there is no one left to care for June.  The Tuscaroras
would chase her from their wigwams; the Iroquois are
hateful in her eyes, and she could not look at them.  No!
leave June to starve over the grave of her husband."

"This will never do -- this will never do.  'Tis ag'in rea-
son and right.  You believe in the Manitou, June?"

"He has hid his face from June because he is angry.
He has left her alone to die."

"Listen to one who has had a long acquaintance with
red natur', though he has a white birth and white gifts.
When the Manitou of a pale-face wishes to produce good
in a pale-face heart He strikes it with grief; for it is in
our sorrows, June, that we look with the truest eyes into
ourselves, and with the farthest-sighted eyes too, as re-
spects right.  The Great Spirit wishes you well, and He
has taken away the chief, lest you should be led astray by
his wily tongue, and get to be a Mingo in your disposition,
as you were already in your company."

"Arrowhead was a great chief," returned the woman
proudly.

"He had his merits, he had; and he had his demerits,
too.  But June you are not desarted, nor will you be soon.
Let you; grief out -- let it out, accordiug to natur', and
when the proper time comes I shall have more to say to
you."

Pathfinder now went to his own canoe, and he left the
island.  In the course of the day June heard the crack of
his rifle once or twice; and as the sun was setting he re-
appeared, bringing her birds ready cooked, and of a deli-
cacy and flavor that might have tempted the appitite of
an epicure.  This species of intercourse lasted a month,
June obstinately refusing to abandon the grave of her hus-
band all that time, though she still accepted the friendly
offerings of her protector.  Occasionally they met and con-
versed, Pathfinder sounding the state of the woman's feel-
ings; but the interviews were short, and far from frequent.
June slept in one of the huts, and she laid down her head
in security, for she was conscious of the protection of a
friend, though Pathfinder invariably retired at night to an
adjacent island, where he had built himself a hut.

At the end of the month, however, the season was getting
to be too far advanced to render her situation pleasant to
June.  The trees had lost their leaves, and the nights were
becoming cold and wintry.  It was time to depart.

At this moment Chingachgook reappeared.  He had a
long and confidential interview on the island with his
friend.  June witnessed their movements, and she saw that
her guardian was distressed.  Stealing to his side, she en-
deavored to soothe his sorrow with a woman's gentleness
and with a woman's instinct.

"Thank you, June, thank you!" he said; "'tis well
meant, though it's useless.  But it is time to quit this
place.  To-morrow we shall depart.  You will go with us,
for now you've got to feel reason."

June assented in the meek manner of an Indian woman,
and she withdrew to pass the remainder of her time near
the grave of Arrowhead.  Regardless of the hour and the
season, the young widow did not pillow her head during
the whole of that autumnal night.  She sat near the spot
that held the remains of her husband, and prayed, in the
manner of her people, for his success on the endless path
on which he had so lately gone, and for their reunion in
the land of the just.  Humble and degraded as she would
have seemed in the eyes of the sophisticated and unreflect-
ing, the image of God was on her soul, and it vindicated
its divine origin by aspirations and feelings that would
have surprised those who, feigning more, feel less.

In the morning the three departed, Pathfinder earnest
and intelligent in all he did, the Great Serpent silent and
imitative, and June meek, resigned, but sorrowful.  They
went in two canoes, that of the woman being abandoned:
Chingachgook led the way, and Pathfinder followed, the
course being up stream.  Two days they paddled westward,
and as many nights they encamped on islands.  Fortu-
nately the weather became mild, and when they reached
the lake it was found smooth and glassy as a pond.  It was
the Indian summer, and the calms, and almost the bland-
ness of June, slept in the hazy atmosphere.

On the morning of the third day they passed the mouth
of the Oswego, where the fort and the sleeping ensign in-
vited them in vain to enter.  Without casting a look aside,
Chingachgook paddled past the dark waters of the river,
and Pathfinder still followed in silent industry.  The
ramparts were crowded with spectators; but Lundie, who
knew the persons of his old friends, refused to allow them
to be even hailed.

It was noon when Chingachgook entered a little bay
where the _Scud_ lay at anchor, in a sort of roadstead.  A
small ancient clearing was on the shore; and near the
margin of the lake was a log dwelling, recently and com-
pletely, though rudely fitted up.  There was an air of fron-
tier comfort and of frontier abundance around the place,
though it was necessarily wild and solitary.  Jasper stood
on the shore; and when Pathfinder landed, he was the
first to take him by the hand.  The meeting was simple,
but very cordial.  No questions were asked, it being ap-
parent that Chingachgook had made the necessary expla-
nantions.  Pathfinder never squeezed his friend's hand
more cordially than in this interview; and he even laughed
cordially in his face as he told him how happy and well he
appeared.

"Where is she, Jasper? where is she?" the guide at
length whispered, for at first he had seemed to be afraid
to trust himself with the question.

"She is waiting for us in the house, my dear friend,
where you see that June has already hastened before us."

"June may use a lighter step to meet Mabel, but she can-
not carry a lighter heart.  And so, lad, you found the chap-
lain at the garrison, and all was soon settled?"

"We were married within a week after we left you, and
Master Cap departed next day.  You have forgotten to in-
quire about your friend Saltwater."

"Not I, not I; the Sarpent has told me all that: and
then I love to hear so much of Mabel and her happiness,
I do.  Did the child smile or did she weep when the cere-
mony was over?"

"She did both, my friend; but -- "

"Yes, that's their natur', tearful and cheerful.  Ah's
me! they are very pleasant to us of the woods; and I do
believe I should think all right, whatever Mabel might do.
And do you think, Jasper, that she thought of me at all
on that joyful occasion?"

"I know she did, Pathfinder; and she thinks of you and
talks of you daily, almost hourly.  None love you as we
do."

"I know few love me better than yourself, Jasper:
Chingachgook is perhaps, now, the only creatur' of whom
I can say that.  Well, there's no use in putting it off any
longer; it must be done, and may as well be done at once;
so, Jasper, lead the way, and I'll endivor to look upon her
sweet countenance once more."

Jasper did lead the way, and they were soon in the pres-
ence of Mabel.  The latter met her late suitor with a bright
blush, and her limbs trembled so, she could hardly stand;
still her manner was affectionate and frank.  During the
hour of Pathfinder's visit (for it lasted no longer, though
he ate in the dwelling of his friends), one who was expert
in tracing the working of the human mind might have seen
a faithful index to the feelings of Mabel in her manner to
Pathfinder and her husband.  With the latter she still had
a little of the reserve that usually accompanies young wed-
lock; but the tones of her voice were kinder even than
common; the glance of her eye was tender, and she sel-
dom looked at him without the glow that tinged her cheeks
betraying the existence of feelings that habit and time had
not yet soothed into absolute tranquillity.  With Path-
finder, all was earnest, sincere, even anxious; but the tones
never trembled, the eye never fell; and if the cheek flushed,
it was with the emotions that are connected with concern.

At length the moment came when Pathfinder must go
his way.  Chingachgook had already abandoned the canoes,
and was posted on the margin of the woods, where a path
led into the forest.  Here he calmly waited to be joined
by his friend.  As soon as the latter was aware of this fact,
he rose in a solemn manner and took his leave.

"I've sometimes thought that my own fate has been a
little hard," he said; "but that of this woman, Mabel, has
shamed me into reason."

"June remains, and lives with me," eagerly interrupted
our heroine.

"So I comprehend it.  If anybody can bring her back
from her grief, and make her wish to live, you can do it,
Mabel; though I've misgivings about even your success.
The poor creatur' is without a tribe, as well as without a
husband, and it's not easy to reconcile the feelings to both
losses.  Ah's me! -- what have I to do with other people's
miseries and marriages, as if I hadn't affliction enough of
my own?  Don't speak to me, Mabel, -- don't speak to me,
Jasper, -- let me go my way in peace, and like a man.  I've
seen your happiness, and that is a great deal, and I shall
be able to bear my own sorrow all the better for it.  No,
- I'll never kiss you ag'in, Mabel, I'll never kiss you ag'in.
Here's my hand, Jasper, -- squeeze it, boy, squeeze it; no
fear of its giving way, for it's the hand of a man; -- and
now, Mabel, do you take it, -- nay, you must not do this,"
- preventing Mabel from kissing it and bathing it in her
tears, -- "you must not do this -- "

"Pathfinder," asked Mabel, "when shall we see you
again?"

"I've thought of that, too; yes, I've thought of that, I
have.  If the time should ever come when I can look upon
you altogether as a sister, Mabel, or a child, -- it might be
better to say a child, since you're young enough to be my
daughter, -- depend on it I'll come back; for it would
lighten my very heart to witness your gladness.  But if I
cannot, -- farewell -- farewell, -- the Sergeant was wrong, --
yes, the Sergeant was wrong!"

This was the last the Pathfinder ever uttered to the ears
of Jasper Western and Mabel Dunham.  He turned away,
as if the words choked him, and was quickly at the side
of his friend.  As soon as the latter saw him approach, he
shouldered his own burthen, and glided in among the
trees, without waiting to be spoken to.  Mabel, her hus-
band, and June all watched the form of the Pathfinder, in
the hope of receiving a parting gesture, or a stolen glance
of the eye; but he did not look back.  Once or twice they
thought they saw his head shake, as one trembles in bitter-
ness of spirit; and a toss of the hand was given, as if he
knew that he was watched; but a tread, whose vigor no
sorrow could enfeeble, soon bore him out of view, and
was lost in the depths of the forest.

Neither Jasper nor his wife ever beheld the Pathfinder
again.  They remained for another year on the banks of
Ontario; and then the pressing solicitations of Cap in-
duced them to join him in New York, where Jasper even-
tually became a successful and respected merchant.  Thrice
Mabel received valuable presents of furs at intervals of
years; and her feelings told her whence they came, though
no name accompanied the gift.  Later in life still, when
the mother of several youths, she had occasion to visit
the interior; and found herself on the banks of the Mo-
hawk, accompanied by her sons, the eldest of whom was
capable of being her protector.  On that occasion she ob-
served a man in a singular guise, watching her in the dis-
tance, with an intentness that induced her to inquire into
his pursuits and character.  She was told he was the most
renowned hunter of that portion of the State, -- it was after
the Revolution, -- a being of great purity of character and
of as marked peculiarities; and tbat he was known in that
region of country by the name of the Leather-stocking.
Further than this Mrs. Western could not ascertain;
though the distant glimpse and singular deportment of
this unknown hunter gave her a sleepless night, and cast a
shade of melancholy over her still lovely face, that lasted
many a day.

As for June, the double loss of husband and tribe pro-
duced the effect that Pathfinder had foreseen.  She died
in the cottage of Mabel, on the shores of the lake; and
Jasper conveyed her body to the island, where he interred
it by the side of that of Arrowhead.

Lundie lived to mary his ancient love, and retired a
war-worn and battered veteran; but his name has been
rendered illustrious in our own time by the deeds of a
younger brother, who succeeded to his territorial title,
which, however, was shortly after merged in one earned
by his valor on the ocean.