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The Pathfinder; Or, The Inland Sea

by James Fenimore Cooper · English · Gutenberg #1880 · 1,001,540 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Pathfinder; Or, The Inland Sea

Author: James Fenimore Cooper


        
Release date: September 1, 1999 [eBook #1880]
                Most recently updated: March 11, 2018

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1880

Credits: Produced by Nigel Lacey, and David Widger


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATHFINDER; OR, THE INLAND SEA ***




Produced by Nigel Lacey





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 the details are altogether of recent invention. 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 circumstances 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 interest 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 peculiarities that are indispensable
to identity, without 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 license of the fiction. Although the
precise vessels mentioned 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 wilderness.

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
passing 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 Providence is clearing the way for the advancement of civilization
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 cannot compass. With feelings akin to this admiration
and awe--the offspring of sublimity--were the different characters 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
country 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 acclivity;
and, though small, it had opened the way for an extensive 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 ascribing 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 completely 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 desired distance from the
ground.

The reader is to anticipate none of the appliances of people of
condition in the description of the personal appearances of the group
in question. They were all wayfarers 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, belonged to the native owners of the
soil, being Indians of the well-known tribe of the Tuscaroras; while
their companions 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 thoughtful.

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 with its graceful and weeping 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 country 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 horizon, 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, addressing 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,
Magnet! 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 you 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 hurricanes, and trades, and levanters,
and such like incidents, in this bit of a forest? And what fishes have
you swimming 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 a 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 aborigines 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 subordinate. So imposing, indeed, had been
the quiet superiority 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 intercourse 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; otherwise, 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 attempted 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, Arrowhead,” 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 unmoved 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 creature at his side; but she soon turned with a
look of surprise 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 liberty 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 reading, 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 superiority 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 everything within thirty miles is to be seen from this
lookout.”

“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, laughing, 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 mariner, 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 sufficiently 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 express equally her respect, her dread, and
her love, to proceed to the boat. But here Magnet raised a difficulty.
Although spirited, and of unusual energy under circumstances 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 seemingly illimitable, became so keenly painful, that she
expressed 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 returned 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, passively went her way towards the canoe, too much
accustomed 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 Arrowhead; 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 a glance at the compass, which Cap held in a
way to direct his course, and gravely answered, “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 unerring 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 defeated 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 Magnet ahead as a
lookout, while two lubbers, like you and me, lie-to to see what sort of
a landfall 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 approach 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
without reluctance. A death-like silence reigned in the forest, for they
towards whom she approached were too much occupied 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,
who 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 Arrowhead. 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 creature 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 Dunham. He was young, healthful,
and manly in appearance; and he wore a dress which, while it was less
rigidly professional than that of the uncle, also denoted one accustomed
to the water. In that age, real seamen were a class entirely apart from
the rest of mankind, their ideas, ordinary 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 warrior. Arrowhead, there, knows what I mean.”

While the Pathfinder was delivering this address, the two Indians gazed
on each other steadily, and the Tuscarora 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 landfall.”

“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 premature 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 knowing 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, on
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 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. Leaving these two unsophisticated young
people to become acquainted 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 different 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 bordermen 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 believe the things
you mention have their uses. One who has lived, like myself, in company
with many tribes, understands 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 believe 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 Sundays, 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 Sergeant has risen in his
calling, and they say he is an important 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 traditions, 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
temptation 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 Arrowhead
nor the Serpent need doubt what you have said concerning both, though
I confess myself to some difficulty in swallowing 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 Magnet, 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. Although 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,
unable to maintain it against a reasoning to which he was unaccustomed,
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,” observed 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 acknowledge, 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 woodchucks,
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
followers 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 intended 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 Chinaman 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 tobacco.”

“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 uneasily 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 venison as his _bonne bouche_; “for
though 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 mistrust 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 garrison, 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 manner? 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 Magnet 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 companion. 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 distance 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 current.”

“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 long 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
befriended 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 moment.”

“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 preparations 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 garrisons. 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
discussed by those so near to reach her ears. The bustle of departure
put an end to the conversation, and, the baggage 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 of 'em are on the heights, or in the trees,
looking 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 situation 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 daughter, for the greatest secrecy has been observed on her
account.”

“And they will learn nothing here,” returned Pathfinder, 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 contrary 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 determined 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, sluggish, 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 which 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 receptacle 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
current. 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 steadiness
being its principal defect in the eyes of the uninitiated. 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 having 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 winding 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 civilization. At that distant day there were two
great channels of military communication between the inhabited portion
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 describing.
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 embraced most of the distance that Cap and Mabel had
journeyed 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 happily among the streams, living on venison, salmon, and trout
without thought of a Mingo or a scalp! I sometimes 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 attractive, 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 wilderness,” 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 Pathfinder;” 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 that 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 mainstay,” 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 continue 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, affection for his niece
raising another qualm in his conscience. “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 Pathfinder 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 professional 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, though 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 ignorant 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 movements. 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 appeared 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
evident 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 hemlock.”

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, thundering, 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 cohesion.

“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 discovered 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 measured 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 descent the canoe had glanced, amid
fragments of broken rock, whirlpools, foam, and furious tossings of
the element, 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 carried 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 admiration of the boldness of the
exploit. Still he was indisposed 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 spoonfuls, 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 breadth, either way,
may make a drowning matter 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 exchanged with Eau-douce,
and he remained silent for some time; for, sooth to say, he had never
suspected the possibility of going down Niagara, feasible as the thing
must appear to every one on a second thought, the real difficulty
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 steadiness of the
youth who directed the movement from blending 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 accomplished 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
carried it clear of a rock over which the boiling water was leaping in
_jets d'eau_,--now leaving the brown stone visible, and now covering it
with a limpid sheet, as if machinery 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 entirely 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 wariness 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 fearlessness, 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 frontierman 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,
though 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 ourselves 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 vainglorious.”

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 nothing 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 tranquilly 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, motioning 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 caution. 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,” observed 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 military 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 confounding men with things, as to have left its traces
strong enough on the moral feeling of the community to be discovered
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, permitting a voice that
was usually deep, loud, and confident to sink into the cautious tones
that better suited the dangers 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 settlements, 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 directly 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 tinderbox, 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 immediately 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 conscience, 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 purpose. 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 between them and the principal
point of danger. Much ingenuity and readiness were manifested in making
this simple arrangement, in which the two workmen were essentially
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 upwards 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 placing 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 deliberately 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 Pathfinder
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 plantation. 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 hindrance or anything
that is unbecoming, and would willingly run twice this risk to do you
and the honest Sergeant a service. Do I not speak your mind, Eau-douce?”

“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
settlements and towns.”

“We had better leave the canoes,” Mabel hurriedly rejoined; “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 the 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 mildness 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 intimacy
in a single hour than might have been effected under other circumstances
in a twelvemonth. Notwithstanding 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 landlocked, 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 sufficiently 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 stillness. 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 restrain 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_ believe even Chingachgook, whose sight is as
faithful as the hound's scent, overlooks us, and will not find out the
ambushment we have made!”

This exultation was untimely; for the words were no sooner spoken than
the Indian, who had actually got several 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 backward; 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, Mengwes, 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 Chingachgook, who ran the greatest risk of detection, to
find a cover where he could secrete himself 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 enabled
again to get into their rear. After proceeding to the place where the
footsteps of Pathfinder and the Mohican had joined the principal trail,
the Iroquois had struck off to the river, which they reached just as
Jasper had disappeared 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, however,
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 examination of the spot, they had separated, some plunging again
into the woods, while six or eight had followed the footsteps 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 Pathfinder 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 clearings--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 Pathfinder 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 cunning
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 assumed, 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 swelling form bent forward in an
attitude of graceful earnestness, her finger on her lips, her head
averted, her spirited eyes riveted on an opening in the bushes, and
one arm extended 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 between her knees, covered it with her calico robe, and remained
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 appeared 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 warpaint. 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 boldness of the expedient alone prevented an immediate exposure.
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 fugitives, 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 attitude 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
contempt 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 descend 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 practised and acute do the senses
of the savage become, more especially when he is on the war-path, that
trifles apparently 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
consequence 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 obtaining 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 cautiously 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 Chingachgook was raised, and the
tomahawk of the Delaware descended 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 burden.

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
effectually conceal the party from the enemy. The Pathfinder's canoe lay
nearest to the bank, and was necessarily the last to quit the shore.
The Delaware leaped on the narrow 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 propelling 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 commenced 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 understanding, 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 element, 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 Pathfinder did him
good service. He knew that his safety depended 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 continue to move in any one
direction. He was consequently compelled to change the course of the
canoe,--at one moment 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 difficult 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 appearance 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 occupation, 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 irresistible, 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 slippery 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 promptitude 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 himself, 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 compelled 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 causing 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
the 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 playing 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
knowledge; 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, laughing 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 increasing 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 arrested 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 Pathfinder proudly. “I am not a
red-skin born, and it is more a white man's gifts to fight openly than
to lie in ambushment.”

“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 Killdeer! 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 venture 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 followed;
but Mabel was under the care of those who were much too well skilled in
forest warfare to neglect to defend 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 standing erect in the stern to wield the
paddle. In this manner 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, trembling 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 behind 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 Pathfinder 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, swimming 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 incidents 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 Pathfinder 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 wantonly. 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 speaking, 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
Chingachgook had concealed himself; and as the latter was deceived by
the apparent apathy of his foes, as well as engaged 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
arrangements the Iroquois was making to fire, for Chingachgook 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 Chingachgook was quite near to his enemies in a straight
direction, though separated by several hundred feet on the land, owing
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 Pathfinder, 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 precision, 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 crossing 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 Delaware 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 Pathfinder laid his fingers lightly but
impressively on his companion's arm,--“I have seen it shed tears like
rain. There is a soul and a heart under that red skin, rely on it;
although 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 another'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 obsarved 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, apparently 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 ambushment. 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 Indian'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 field 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 Pathfinder 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 current, 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 whippoorwill 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 indifference of one who had made up his mind to be
indifferent 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 consult 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 obscurity 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 experienced 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 lookouts 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 sunshine 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 pertinacious 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 current, 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 Pathfinder 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
movements, the guide brought Mabel from her place of concealment, 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 wading. 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 recollection of the localities. By the time they believed
themselves 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 distinguishable 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 quarter 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. Jasper 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 Delaware 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 head, 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 Iroquois laid hold of one end, Chingachgook 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
Iroquois, 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 circumstance that their own appearance
had occasioned no surprise in the individual they had met, both felt the
necessity 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 possession 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 anything occur to compel the
Delaware and himself to abandon their prize.

In the meantime, the Iroquois, who led the way, proceeded slowly through
the water in the direction of his own party, still grasping the canoe,
and dragging his reluctant 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 centre of a party of no less than four others who were
in quest of it.

After the usual brief characteristic exclamations of satisfaction, 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 understand 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 determine 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 American 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 naturally 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 moment. 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 warrior 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 suffered 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 helping 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 advance,
and, looking back; he first learned that he was resisted by the efforts
of his companions.

That second nature which grows up through habit instantly 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 violent 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 rushing 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 melancholy 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 Providence. 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 Pathfinder?” demanded Cap.
“It sounds more like the outcries 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 the Sarpent, no doubt, dead or alive, is in their power.

“And we!” exclaimed Jasper, who felt a pang of generous 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 effectually 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 apprise 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 unconsciously
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 Pathfinder. “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 moment 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 remember 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 huskiness 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 garrisons, 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 endeavored 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 Pathfinder, 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 Christianity 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 feeling 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 Iroquois 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 savages 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
ignorance, 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
respect 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 navigation. 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
frequently 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 together.
Generals and privates, they lay scattered throughout 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; although 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 honorable 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 preserve 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 themselves 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 imagination. 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 readily the ear receives 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 account venture ashore
on an onsartainty.”

“Is this prudent?” demanded Mabel, with an impetuosity 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 fancied 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
car

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