wife yoursel', Pathfinder? I may want it to help to get a wife, or as a memorial that I have had a wife, or as proof how much I admire the sex, or because it is a female garment, or for some other equally respectable motive. It's not the unreflecting that are the most prized by the thoughtful, and there is no surer sign that a man made a good husband to his first consort, let me tell you all, than to see him speedily looking around for a competent successor. The affections are good gifts from Providence, and they that have loved one faithfully, prove how much of this bounty has been lavished upon them by loving another as soon as possible." "It may be so it may be so. I am no practitioner in such things, and cannot gainsay it. But Mabel, here, the sergeant's daughter, will give you full credit for the words. Come, Jasper, although our hands are out, let us see what the other lads can do with the rifle." Pathfinder and his companions retired, for the sports were about to proceed. The ladies, however, were not so much engrossed with rifle-shooting as to neglect the calash. It passed from hand to hand; the silk was felt, the fashion criticised, and the work examined, and divers opinions were privately ventured concerning the fitness of so handsome a thing's passing into the possession of a non-commissioned officer's child. "Perhaps you will be disposed to sell that calash, Mabel, when it has been a short time in your possession?" inquired the captain's lady. "Wear it, I should think, you never can. "I may not wear it, madam," returned our heroine modestly, "but I should not like to part with it, either.” "I dare say Sergeant Dunham keeps you above the necessity of selling your clothes, child; but, at the same time, it is money thrown away to keep an article of dress you can never wear." "I should be unwilling to part with the gift of a friend." "But the young man himself will think all the better of you, for your prudence, after the triumph of the day is forgotten. It is a pretty and a becoming calash, and ought not to be thrown away." "I've no intention to throw it away, ma'am, and, if you please, would rather keep it." "As you will, child; girls of your age often overlook their real advantages. Remember, however, if you do determine to dispose of the thing, that it is bespoke, and that I will not take it, if you ever even put it on your own head." "Yes, ma'am," said Mabel, in the meekest voice imaginable, though her eyes looked like diamonds, and her cheeks reddened to the tints of two roses, as she placed the forbidden garment over her well- turned shoulders, where she kept it a minute, as if to try its fitness, and then quietly removed it again. The remainder of the sports offered nothing of interest. The shooting was reasonably good, but the trials were all of a scale lower than those related, and the competitors were soon left to themselves. The ladies and most of the officers withdrew, and the remainder of the females soon followed their example. Mabel was returning along the low flat rocks that line the shore of the lake, dangling her pretty calash from a prettier finger, when Pathfinder met her. He carried the rifle which he had used that day, but his manner had less of the frank ease of the hunter about it than usual, while his eye seemed roving and uneasy. After a few unmeaning words concerning the noble sheet of water before them, he turned towards his companion with strong interest in his countenance, and said: "Jasper earned that calash for you, Mabel, without much trial of his gifts. "It was fairly done, Pathfinder." "No doubt- no doubt. . The bullet passed neatly through the potato, and no man could have done more; though others might have done as much." "But no one did as much!" exclaimed Mabel, with an animation that she instantly regretted, for she saw by the pained look of the guide, that he was mortified equally by the remark, and by the feeling with which it was uttered. "It is true- it is true, Mabel, no one did as much then, but yet there is no reason I should deny my gifts which come from Providence; yes, yes no one did as much there, but you shall know what can be done here. Do you observe the gulls that are flying over our heads? Certainly, Pathfinder; there are too many to escape 66 notice." "Here, where they cross each other, in sailing about," he added, cocking and raising his rifle; "the twotwo; now look!" the The piece was presented quick as thought, as two of the birds came in a line, though distant from each other many yards; the report followed, and the bullet passed through the bodies of both the victims. No sooner had the gulls fallen into the lake, than Pathfinder dropped the breech of the rifle, and laughed in his own peculiar manner, every shade of dissatisfaction and mortified pride having left his honest face. "That is something, Mabel, that is something; although I've no calash to give you! But ask Jasper himself; I'll leave it all to Jasper, for a truer tongue and heart are not in America." "Then it was not Jasper's fault that he gained the prize!" "Not it. He did his best, and he did well. For one that has water gifts, rather than land gifts, Jasper is oncommonly expart, and a better backer no one need wish, ashore or afloat. But it was my fault, Mabel, that he got the calash; though it makes no difference it makes no difference, for the thing has gone to the right person. "I believe I understand you, Pathfinder," said Mabel, blushing in spite of herself, "and I look upon the calash as the joint gift of yourself and Jasper." "That would not be doing justice to the lad, neither. He won the garment, and had a right to give it away. The most you may think, Mabel, is to believe that had I won it, it would have gone to the same person." "I will remember that, Pathfinder, and take care that others know your skill, as it has been proved upon the poor gulls, in my presence." "Lord bless you, Mabel, there is no more need of your talking in favor of my shooting, on this frontier, than of your talking about the water in the lake, or the sun in the heavens. Everybody knows what I can do in that way, and your words would be thrown away, as much as French would be thrown away on an American bear." "Then you think that Jasper knew you were giving him this advantage, of which he has so unhandsomely. availed himself?" said Mabel, the color which had imparted so much lustre to her eyes gradually leaving her face, which became grave and thoughtful. "I do not say that, but very far from it. We all forget things that we have known, when eager after our wishes. Jasper is satisfied that I can pass one bullet through two potatoes. as I sent my bullet through the gulls; and he knows no other man on the frontier can do the same thing. But with the calash before his eyes, and the hope of giving it to you, the lad was inclined to think better of himself, just at that moment, perhaps, than he ought. No, no; there's nothing mean or distrustful about Jasper Eau-douce, though it is a gift, nat'ral to all young men, to wish to appear well in the eyes of handsome young women." "I'll try to forget all but the kindness you've both shown to a poor motherless girl," said Mabel, struggling to keep down emotions that she scarcely knew how to account for, herself. "Believe me, Pathfinder, I can never forget all you have already done for me -you and Jasper and this new proof of your regard is not thrown away. Here here is a brooch that is of silver; I offer it as a token that I owe you life or liberty." "What shall I do with this, Mabel?" asked the bewildered hunter, holding the simple trinket in his hand. "I have neither buckle nor button about me, for I wear nothing but leathern strings, and them of good deerskins. It's pretty to the eye, but it is prettier far on the spot it came from than it can be about me.' 99 "Nay, put it in your hunting-shirt; it will become it well. Remember, Pathfinder, that it is a token of friendship between us, and a sign that I can never forget you or your services." Mabel then smiled an adieu, and, bounding up the bank, she was soon lost to view behind the mound of the fort. CHAPTER XII. Lo! dusky masses steal in dubious sight, BYRON. A FEW hours later, Mabel Dunham was on the bastion that overlooked the river and the lake, seemingly in deep thought. The evening was calm and soft, and the question had arisen whether the party for the Thousand Islands would be able to get out that night or not, on account of the total absence of wind. The stores, arms, and ammunition were already shipped, and even Mabel's effects were on board; but the small draft of men that was to go was still ashore, there being no apparent prospect of the cutter's getting under way. Jasper had warped the Scud out of the cove, and so far up the stream as to enable him to pass through the outlet of the river whenever he chose; but there he still lay, riding at single anchor. The drafted men were lounging about the shore of the cove, undecided whether or not to pull off. The sports of the morning had left a quiet in the garrison that was in harmony with the whole of the beautiful scene, and Mabel felt its influence on her feelings, though probably too little accustomed to speculate on such sensations to be aware of the cause. Everything near appeared lovely and soothing, while the solemn grandeur of the silent forest and placid expanse of the lake lent a sublimity that other scenes might have wanted. For |