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.
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