God, Jasper.

Even Master Cap will tell you a treeless

plain must resemble a desert island."

"Desert

'Why that 's as it may be," put in Cap. islands, too, have their uses, for they serve to correct the reckonings by. If my taste is consulted, I should never quarrel with a plain for wanting trees. As nature has given a man eyes to look about with, and a sun to shine, were it not for ship-building, and now and then a house, I can see no great use in a tree; especially one that don't bear monkeys or fruit."

To this remark the guide made no answer beyond a low sound, intended to enjoin silence on his companions. 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 unpracticed 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

1

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, in the manner just mentioned, his vigilant ear had caught the peculiar sound that 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?"

66

"It may be the Delaware! He would follow us of course down this bank, and would know where to look Let me draw closer in to the shore, and recon

for us.

noitre."

"Go, boy, but be light with the paddle, and on no account ventur' ashore on an onsartainty."

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

I

"Very imprudent, if you speak so loud, fair one. like your voice, which is soft and pleasing, after 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 that

1 See Appendix, Note G.

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 singing 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 them were notes like the low tones of the Delaware!"

"Do the dead of the savages ever walk?" demanded Cap.

"Aye, and run, too, in their happy hunting-grounds, but nowhere else. A redskin finishes with the 'arth after the breath quits the body. It is not one of his gifts to linger around his wigwam when his hour has passed."

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

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

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

"Chingachgook-my brother!" said the guide, in the dialect of the other's people, a tremor shaking his voice

that betrayed the strength of his feelings. "Chief of the Mohicans! my heart is very glad. Often have we passed through blood and strife together, but I was afraid

it was never to be so again."

"Hugh! Mingos

hang at my girdle.

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

66 Have you been among them, chief? and what has become of the warrior who was in the river?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I have great confidence in you both," answered the girl, "and have no doubts that either will do all he can