What had the Eternall Maker need of thee,
The world in his continuall course to keepe,
That doest all things deface? ne lettest see
The beautie of his worke? Indeede in sleepe,
The slouth full body that doth love to steepe
His lustlesse limbs, and drowne his baser mind,
Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe,
Calles thee his goddesse, in his errour blind,
And great dame Nature's hand-maide, chearing every kinde.
_Faerie Queene._
The tranquillity of the previous night was not contradicted by
the movements of the day. Although Mabel and June went to every
loophole, not a sign of the presence of a living being on the
island was at first to be seen, themselves excepted. There was a
smothered fire on the spot where M'Nab and his comrades had cooked,
as if the smoke which curled upwards from it was intended as a lure
to the absent; and all around the huts had been restored to former
order and arrangement. Mabel started involuntarily when her eye
at length fell on a group of three men, dressed in the scarlet of
the 55th, seated on the grass in lounging attitudes, as if they
chatted in listless security; and her blood curdled as, on a second
look, she traced the bloodless faces and glassy eyes of the dead.
They were very near the blockhouse, so near indeed as to have been
overlooked at the first eager inquiry, and there was a mocking levity
in their postures and gestures, for their limbs were stiffening in
different attitudes, intended to resemble life, at which the soul
revolted. Still, horrible as these objects were to those near
enough to discover the frightful discrepancy between their assumed
and their real characters, the arrangement had been made with so
much art that it would have deceived a negligent observer at the
distance of a hundred yards. After carefully examining the shores
of the island, June pointed out to her companion the fourth soldier,
seated, with his feet hanging over the water, his back fastened to
a sapling, and holding a fishing-rod in his hand. The scalpless
heads were covered with the caps, and all appearance of blood had
been carefully washed from each countenance.
Mabel sickened at this sight, which not only did so much violence
to all her notions of propriety, but which was in itself so revolting
and so opposed to natural feeling. She withdrew to a seat, and hid
her face in her apron for several minutes, until a low call from
June again drew her to a loophole. The latter then pointed out
the body of Jennie seemingly standing in the door of a hut, leaning
forward as if to look at the group of men, her cap fluttering in
the wind, and her hand grasping a broom. The distance was too great
to distinguish the features very accurately; but Mabel fancied
that the jaw had been depressed, as if to distort the mouth into
a sort of horrible laugh.
"June! June!" she exclaimed; "this exceeds all I have ever heard,
or imagined as possible, in the treachery and artifices of your
people."
"Tuscarora very cunning," said June, in a way to show that she
rather approved of than condemned the uses to which the dead bodies
had been applied. "Do soldier no harm now; do Iroquois good; got
the scalp first; now make bodies work. By and by, burn 'em."
This speech told Mabel how far she was separated from her friend in
character; and it was several minutes before she could again address
her. But this temporary aversion was lost on June, who set about
preparing their simple breakfast, in a way to show how insensible
she was to feelings in others which her own habits taught her to
discard. Mabel ate sparingly, and her companion, as if nothing
had happened. Then they had leisure again for their thoughts, and
for further surveys of the island. Our heroine, though devoured
with a feverish desire to be always at the loops, seldom went that
she did not immediately quit them in disgust, though compelled by
her apprehensions to return again in a few minutes, called by the
rustling of leaves, or the sighing of the wind. It was, indeed,
a solemn thing to look out upon that deserted spot, peopled by the
dead in the panoply of the living, and thrown into the attitudes
and acts of careless merriment and rude enjoyment. The effect on
our heroine was much as if she had found herself an observer of
the revelries of demons.
Throughout the livelong day not an Indian nor a Frenchman was to
be seen, and night closed over the frightful but silent masquerade,
with the steady and unalterable progress with which the earth obeys
her laws, indifferent to the petty actors and petty scenes that
are in daily bustle and daily occurrence on her bosom. The night
was far more quiet than that which had preceded it, and Mabel slept
with an increasing confidence; for she now felt satisfied that her
own fate would not be decided until the return of her father. The
following day he was expected, however, and when our heroine awoke,
she ran eagerly to the loops in order to ascertain the state of
the weather and the aspect of the skies, as well as the condition
of the island. There lounged the fearful group on the grass; the
fisherman still hung over the water, seemingly intent on his sport;
and the distorted countenance of Jennie glared from out the hut in
horrible contortions. But the weather had changed; the wind blew
fresh from the southward, and though the air was bland, it was
filled with the elements of storm.
"This grows more and more difficult to bear, June," Mabel said,
when she left the window. "I could even prefer to see the enemy
than to look any longer on this fearful array of the dead."
"Hush! Here they come. June thought hear a cry like a warrior's
shout when he take a scalp."
"What mean you? There is no more butchery! -- there can be no
more."
"Saltwater!" exclaimed June, laughing, as she stood peeping through
a loophole.
"My dear uncle! Thank God! he then lives! Oh, June, June, _you_
will not let them harm _him?_"
"June, poor squaw. What warrior t'ink of what she say? Arrowhead
bring him here."
By this time Mabel was at a loop; and, sure enough, there were Cap
and the Quartermaster in the hands of the Indians, eight or ten of
whom were conducting them to the foot of the block, for, by this
capture, the enemy now well knew that there could be no man in
the building. Mabel scarcely breathed until the whole party stood
ranged directly before the door, when she was rejoiced to see that
the French officer was among them. A low conversation followed,
in which both the white leader and Arrowhead spoke earnestly to
their captives, when the Quartermaster called out to her in a voice
loud enough to be heard.
"Pretty Mabel! Pretty Mabel!" said he; "Look out of one of the
loopholes, and pity our condition. We are threatened with instant
death unless you open the door to the conquerors. Relent, then
or we'll no' be wearing our scalps half an hour from this blessed
moment."
Mabel thought there were mockery and levity in this appeal, and
its manner rather fortified than weakened her resolution to hold
the place as long as possible.
"Speak to me, uncle," said she, with her mouth at a loop, "and tell
me what I ought to do."
"Thank God! thank God!" ejaculated Cap; "the sound of your sweet
voice, Magnet, lightens my heart of a heavy load, for I feared you
had shared the fate of poor Jennie. My breast has felt the last
four-and-twenty hours as if a ton of kentledge had been stowed in
it. You ask me what you ought to do, child, and I do not know how
to advise you, though you are my own sister's daughter! The most
I can say just now, my poor girl, is most heartily to curse the
day you or I ever saw this bit of fresh water."
"But, uncle, is your life in danger -- do _you_ think I ought to
open the door?"
"A round turn and two half-hitches make a fast belay; and I would
counsel no one who is out of the hands of these devils to unbar or
unfasten anything in order to fall into them. As to the Quartermaster
and myself, we are both elderly men, and not of much account to
mankind in general, as honest Pathfinder would say; and it can make
no great odds to him whether he balances the purser's books this
year or the next; and as for myself, why, if I were on the seaboard,
I should know what to do, but up here, in this watery wilderness,
I can only say, that if I were behind that bit of a bulwark, it
would take a good deal of Indian logic to rouse me out of it."
"You'll no' be minding all your uncle says, pretty Mabel," put in
Muir, "for distress is obviously fast unsettling his faculties, and
he is far from calculating all the necessities of the emergency.
We are in the hands here of very considerate and gentlemanly
pairsons, it must be acknowledged, and one has little occasion to
apprehend disagreeable violence. The casualties that have occurred
are the common incidents of war, and can no' change our sentiments
of the enemy, for they are far from indicating that any injustice
will be done the prisoners. I'm sure that neither Master Cap nor
myself has any cause of complaint since we have given ourselves
up to Master Arrowhead, who reminds me of a Roman or a Spartan by
his virtues and moderation; but ye'll be remembering that usages
differ, and that our scalps may be lawful sacrifices to appease
the manes of fallen foes, unless you save them by capitulation."
"I shall do wiser to keep within the blockhouse until the fate of
the island is settled," returned Mabel. "Our enemies can feel no
concern on account of one like me, knowing that I can do them no
harm, and I greatly prefer to remain here as more befitting my sex
and years."
"If nothing but your convenience were concerned, Mabel, we should
all cheerfully acquiesce in your wishes, but these gentlemen fancy
that the work will aid their operations, and they have a strong
desire to possess it. To be frank with you, finding myself and your
uncle in a very peculiar situation, I acknowledge that, to avert
consequences, I have assumed the power that belongs to his Majesty's
commission, and entered into a verbal capitulation, by which I
have engaged to give up the blockhouse and the whole island. It
is the fortune of war, and must be submitted to; so open the door,
pretty Mabel, forthwith, and confide yourself to the care of those
who know how to treat beauty and virtue in distress. There's no
courtier in Scotland more complaisant than this chief, or who is
more familiar with the laws of decorum."
"No leave blockhouse," muttered June, who stood at Mabel's side,
attentive to all that passed. "Blockhouse good -- got no scalp."
Our heroine might have yielded but for this appeal; for it began
to appear to her that the wisest course would be to conciliate the
enemy by concessions instead of exasperating them by resistance.
They must know that Muir and her uncle were in their power; that
there was no man in the building, and she fancied they might proceed
to batter down the door, or cut their way through the logs with
axes, if she obstinately refused to give them peaceable admission,
since there was no longer any reason to dread the rifle. But the
words of June induced her to hesitate, and the earnest pressure
of the hand and entreating looks of her companion strengthened a
resolution that was faltering.
"No prisoner yet," whispered June; "let 'em make prisoner before
'ey take prisoner -- talk big; June manage 'em."
Mabel now began to parley more resolutely with Muir, for her uncle
seemed disposed to quiet his conscience by holding his tongue, and
she plainly intimated that it was not her intention to yield the
building.
"You forget the capitulation, Mistress Mabel," said Muir; "the
honor of one of his Majesty's servants is concerned, and the honor
of his Majesty through his servant. You will remember the finesse
and delicacy that belong to military honor?"
"I know enough, Mr. Muir, to understand that you have no command
in this expedition, and therefore can have no right to yield the
blockhouse; and I remember, moreover, to have heard my dear father
say that a prisoner loses all his authority for the time being."
"Rank sophistry, pretty Mabel, and treason to the king, as well
as dishonoring his commission and discrediting his name. You'll
no' be persevering in your intentions, when your better judgment
has had leisure to reflect and to make conclusions on matters and
circumstances."
"Ay," put in Cap, "this is a circumstance, and be d----d to it!"
"No mind what'e uncle say," ejaculated June, who was occupied in
a far corner of the room. "Blockhouse good - got no scalp."
"I shall remain as I am, Mr. Muir, until I get some tidings of my
father. He will return in the course of the next ten days."
"Ah, Mabel, this artifice will no' deceive the enemy, who, by means
that would be unintelligible, did not our suspicions rest on an
unhappy young man with too much plausibility, are familiar with
all our doings and plans, and well know that the sun will not set
before the worthy Sergeant and his companions will be in their power.
Aweel! Submission to Providence is truly a Christian virtue!"
"Mr. Muir, you appear to be deceived in the strength of this work,
and to fancy it weaker than it is. Do you desire to see what I
can do in the way of defence, if so disposed?"
"I dinna mind if I do," answered the Quartermaster, who always grew
Scotch as he grew interested.
"What do you think of that, then? Look at the loop of the upper
story!"
As soon as Mabel had spoken, all eyes were turned upward, and
beheld the muzzle of a rifle cautiously thrust through a hole,
June having resorted again to a _ruse_ which had already proved so
successful. The result did not disappoint expectation. No sooner
did the Indians catch a sight of the fatal weapon than they leaped
aside, and in less than a minute every man among them had sought a
cover. The French officer kept his eye on the barrel of the piece
in order to ascertain that it was not pointed in his particular
direction, and he coolly took a pinch of snuff. As neither Muir
nor Cap had anything to apprehend from the quarter in which the
others were menaced, they kept their ground.
"Be wise, my pretty Mabel, be wise!" exclaimed the former; "and
no' be provoking useless contention. In the name of all the kings
of Albin, who have ye closeted with you in that wooden tower that
seemeth so bloody-minded? There is necromancy about this matter,
and all our characters may be involved in the explanation."
"What do you think of the Pathfinder, Master Muir, for a garrison
to so strong a post?" cried Mabel, resorting to an equivocation
which the circumstances rendered very excusable. "What will your
French and Indian companions think of the aim of the Pathfinder's
rifle?"
"Bear gently on the unfortunate, pretty Mabel, and do not confound
the king's servants -- may Heaven bless him and all his royal
lineage! -- with the king's enemies. If Pathfinder be indeed in
the blockhouse, let him speak, and we will hold our negotiations
directly with him. He knows us as friends, and we fear no evil at
his hands, and least of all to myself; for a generous mind is apt
to render rivalry in a certain interest a sure ground of respect
and amity, since admiration of the same woman proves a community
of feeling and tastes."
The reliance on Pathfinder's friendship did not extend beyond the
Quartermaster and Cap, however, for even the French officer, who
had hitherto stood his ground so well, shrank back at the sound of
the terrible name. So unwilling, indeed, did this individual, a
man of iron nerves, and one long accustomed to the dangers of the
peculiar warfare in which he was engaged, appear to remain exposed
to the assaults of Killdeer, whose reputation throughout all that
frontier was as well established as that of Marlborough in Europe,
that he did not disdain to seek a cover, insisting that his two
prisoners should follow him. Mabel was too glad to be rid of her
enemies to lament the departure of her friends, though she kissed
her hand to Cap through the loop, and called out to him in terms
of affection as he moved slowly and unwillingly away.
The enemy now seemed disposed to abandon all attempts on the
blockhouse for the present; and June, who had ascended to a trap
in the roof, whence the best view was to be obtained, reported that
the whole party had assembled to eat, on a distant and sheltered
part of the island, where Muir and Cap were quietly sharing in the
good things which were going, as if they had no concern on their
minds. This information greatly relieved Mabel, and she began to
turn her thoughts again to the means of effecting her own escape,
or at least of letting her father know of the danger that awaited
him. The Sergeant was expected to return that afternoon, and she
knew that a moment gained or lost might decide his fate.
Three or four hours flew by. The island was again buried in a
profound quiet, the day was wearing away, and yet Mabel had decided
on nothing. June was in the basement, preparing their frugal meal,
and Mabel herself had ascended to the roof, which was provided
with a trap that allowed her to go out on the top of the building,
whence she commanded the best view of surrounding objects that the
island possessed; still it was limited, and much obstructed by the
tops of trees. The anxious girl did not dare to trust her person
in sight, knowing well that the unrestrained passions of some savage
might induce him to send a bullet through her brain. She merely
kept her head out of the trap, therefore, whence, in the course of
the afternoon, she made as many surveys of the different channels
about the island as "Anne, sister Anne," took of the environs of
the castle of Blue Beard.
The sun had actually set; no intelligence had been received from
the boats, and Mabel ascended to the roof to take a last look,
hoping that the party would arrive in the darkness; which would at
least prevent the Indians from rendering their ambuscade so fatal
as it might otherwise prove, and which possibly might enable her
to give some more intelligible signal, by means of fire, than it
would otherwise be in her power to do. Her eye had turned carefully
round the whole horizon, and she was just on the point of drawing
in her person, when an object that struck her as new caught her
attention. The islands lay grouped so closely, that six or eight
different channels or passages between them were in view; and in
one of the most covered, concealed in a great measure by the bushes
of the shore, lay what a second look assured her was a bark canoe.
It contained a human being beyond a question. Confident that if an
enemy her signal could do no harm, and; if a friend, that it might
do good, the eager girl waved a little flag towards the stranger,
which she had prepared for her father, taking care that it should
not be seen from the island.
Mabel had repeated her signal eight or ten times in vain, and
she began to despair of its being noticed, when a sign was given
in return by the wave of a paddle, and the man so far discovered
himself as to let her see it was Chingachgook. Here, then, at last,
was a friend; one, too, who was able, and she doubted not would be
willing to aid her. From that instant her courage and her spirits
revived. The Mohican had seen her; must have recognized her, as
he knew that she was of the party; and no doubt, as soon as it was
sufficiently dark, he would take the steps necessary to release
her. That he was aware of the presence of the enemy was apparent
by the great caution he observed, and she had every reliance on
his prudence and address. The principal difficulty now existed
with June; for Mabel had seen too much of her fidelity to her own
people, relieved as it was by sympathy for herself, to believe she
would consent to a hostile Indian's entering the blockhouse, or
indeed to her leaving it, with a view to defeat Arrowhead's plans.
The half-hour which succeeded the discovery of the presence of the
Great Serpent was the most painful of Mabel Dunham's life. She
saw the means of effecting all she wished, as it might be within
reach of her hand, and yet it eluded her grasp. She knew June's
decision and coolness, notwithstanding all her gentleness and womanly
feeling; and at last she came reluctantly to the conclusion that
there was no other way of attaining her end than by deceiving her
tried companion and protector. It was revolting to one so sincere
and natural, so pure of heart, and so much disposed to ingenuousness
as Mabel Dunham, to practise deception on a friend like June; but
her own father's life was at stake, her companion would receive
no positive injury, and she had feelings and interests directly
touching herself which would have removed greater scruples.
As soon as it was dark, Mabel's heart began to beat with increased
violence; and she adopted and changed her plan of proceeding at
least a dozen times in a single hour. June was always the source
of her greatest embarrassment; for she did not well see, first,
how she was to ascertain when Chingachgook was at the door, where
she doubted not he would soon appear; and, secondly, how she was
to admit him, without giving the alarm to her watchful companion.
Time pressed, however; for the Mohican might come and go away again,
unless she was ready to receive him. It would be too hazardous to
the Delaware to remain long on the island; and it became absolutely
necessary to determine on some course, even at the risk of choosing
one that was indiscreet. After running over various projects in
her mind, therefore, Mabel came to her companion, and said, with
as much calmness as she could assume, --
"Are you not afraid, June, now your people believe Pathfinder is
in the blockhouse, that they will come and try to set it on fire?"
"No t'ink such t'ing. No burn blockhouse. Blockhouse good; got
no scalp."
"June, we cannot know. They hid because they believed what I told
them of Pathfinder's being with us."
"Believe fear. Fear come quick, go quick. Fear make run away;
wit make come back. Fear make warrior fool, as well as young girl."
Here June laughed, as her sex is apt to laugh when anything
particularly ludicrous crosses their youthful fancies.
"I feel uneasy, June; and wish you yourself would go up again to
the roof and look out upon the island, to make certain that nothing
is plotting against us; you know the signs of what your people
intend to do better than I."
"June go, Lily wish; but very well know that Indian sleep; wait for
'e fader. Warrior eat, drink, sleep, all time, when don't fight
and go on war-trail. Den never sleep, eat, drink -- never feel.
Warrior sleep now."
"God send it may be so! but go up, dear June, and look well about
you. Danger may come when we least expect it."
June arose, and prepared to ascend to the roof; but she paused, with
her foot on the first round of the ladder. Mabel's heart beat so
violently that she was fearful its throbs would be heard; and she
fancied that some gleamings of her real intentions had crossed
the mind of her friend. She was right in part, the Indian woman
having actually stopped to consider whether there was any indiscretion
in what she was about to do. At first the suspicion that Mabel
intended to escape flashed across her mind; then she rejected it,
on the ground that the pale-face had no means of getting off the
island, and that the blockhouse was much the most secure place she
could find. The next thought was, that Mabel had detected some
sign of the near approach of her father. This idea, too, lasted
but an instant; for June entertained some such opinion of her
companion's ability to understand symptoms of this sort -- symptoms
that had escaped her own sagacity -- as a woman of high fashion
entertains of the accomplishments of her maid. Nothing else in
the same way offering, she began slowly to mount the ladder.
Just as she reached the upper floor, a lucky thought suggested
itself to our heroine; and, by expressing it in a hurried but natural
manner, she gained a great advantage in executing her projected
scheme.
"I will go down," she said, "and listen by the door, June, while
you are on the roof; and we will thus be on our guard, at the same
time, above and below."
Though June thought this savored of unnecessary caution, well knowing
that no one could enter the building unless aided from within,
nor any serious danger menace them from the exterior without giving
sufficient warning, she attributed the proposition to Mabel's
ignorance and alarm; and, as it was made apparently with frankness,
it was received without distrust. By these means our heroine was
enabled to descend to the door, as her friend ascended to the
roof. The distance between the two was now too great to admit
of conversation; and for three or four minutes one was occupied
in looking about her as well as the darkness would allow, and the
other in listening at the door with as much intentness as if all
her senses were absorbed in the single faculty of hearing.
June discovered nothing from her elevated stand; the obscurity
indeed almost forbade the hope of such a result; but it would not
be easy to describe the sensation with which Mabel thought she
perceived a slight and guarded push against the door. Fearful that
all might not be as she wished, and anxious to let Chingachgook
know that she was near, she began, though in tremulous and low
notes, to sing. So profound was the stillness of the moment that
the sound of the unsteady warbling ascended to the roof and in a
minute June began to descend. A slight tap at the door was heard
immediately after. Mabel was bewildered, for there was no time
to lose. Hope proved stronger than fear; and with unsteady hands
she commenced unbarring the door. The moccasin of June was heard
on the floor above her when only a single bar was turned. The second
was released as her form reached half-way down the lower ladder.
"What you do?" exclaimed June angrily. "Run away - mad -- leave
blockhouse; blockhouse good." The hands of both were on the last
bar, and it would have been cleared from the fastenings but for
a vigorous shove from without, which jammed the wood. A short
struggle ensued, though both were disinclined to violence. June
would probably have prevailed, had not another and a more vigorous
push from without forced the bar past the trifling impediment that
held it, when the door opened. The form of a man was seen to enter;
and both the females rushed up the ladder, as if equally afraid
of the consequences. The stranger secured the door; and, first
examining the lower room with great care, he cautiously ascended
the ladder. June, as soon as it became dark, had closed the loops
of the principal floor, and lighted a candle. By means of this
dim taper, then, the two females stood in expectation, waiting to
ascertain the person of their visitor, whose wary ascent of the
ladder was distinctly audible, though sufficiently deliberate. It
would not be easy to say which was the more astonished on finding,
when the stranger had got through the trap, that Pathfinder stood
before them.
"God be praised!" Mabel exclaimed, for the idea that the blockhouse
would be impregnable with such a garrison at once crossed her mind.
"O Pathfinder! what has become of my father?"
"The Sergeant is safe as yet, and victorious; though it is not in
the gift of man to say what will be the ind of it. Is not that
the wife of Arrowhead skulking in the corner there?"
"Speak not of her reproachfully, Pathfinder; I owe her my life, my
present security. Tell me what has happened to my father's party
-- why you are here; and I will relate all the horrible events that
have passed upon this island."
"Few words will do the last, Mabel; for one used to Indian devilries
needs but little explanations on such a subject. Everything turned
out as we had hoped with the expedition; for the Sarpent was on
the look-out, and he met us with all the information heart could
desire. We ambushed three boats, druv' the Frenchers out of them,
got possession and sunk them, according to orders, in the deepest
part of the channel; and the savages of Upper Canada will fare
badly for Indian goods this winter. Both powder and ball, too,
will be scarcer among them than keen hunters and active warriors
may relish. We did not lose a man or have even a skin barked; nor
do I think the inimy suffered to speak of. In short, Mabel, it
has been just such an expedition as Lundie likes; much harm to the
foe, and little harm to ourselves."
"Ah, Pathfinder, I fear, when Major Duncan comes to hear the whole
of the sad tale, he will find reason to regret he ever undertook
the affair."
"I know what you mean, I know what you mean; but by telling my story
straight you will understand it better. As soon as the Sergeant
found himself successful, he sent me and the Sarpent off in canoes
to tell you how matters had turned out, and he is following with
the two boats, which, being so much heavier, cannot arrive before
morning. I parted from Chingachgook this forenoon, it being agreed
that he should come up one set of channels, and I another, to see
that the path was clear. I've not seen the chief since."
Mabel now explained the manner in which she had discovered the Mohican,
and her expectation that he would yet come to the blockhouse.
"Not he, not he! A regular scout will never get behind walls or
logs so long as he can keep the open air and find useful employment.
I should not have come myself, Mabel, but I promised the Sergeant
to comfort you and to look after your safety. Ah's me! I reconnoitred
the island with a heavy heart this forenoon; and there was a bitter
hour when I fancied you might be among the slain."
"By what lucky accident were you prevented from paddling up boldly
to the island and from falling into the hands of the enemy?"
"By such an accident, Mabel, as Providence employs to tell the hound
where to find the deer and the deer how to throw off the hound.
No, no! these artifices and devilries with dead bodies may deceive
the soldiers of the 55th and the king's officers; but they are
all lost upon men who have passed their days in the forest. I came
down the channel in face of the pretended fisherman; and, though
the riptyles have set up the poor wretch with art, it was not
ingenious enough to take in a practysed eye. The rod was held too
high, for the 55th have learned to fish at Oswego, if they never
knew how before; and then the man was too quiet for one who got
neither prey nor bite. But we never come in upon a post blindly;
and I have lain outside a garrison a whole night, because they had
changed their sentries and their mode of standing guard. Neither
the Sarpent nor myself would be likely to be taken in by these
clumsy contrivances, which were most probably intended for the
Scotch, who are cunning enough in some particulars, though anything
but witches when Indian sarcumventions are in the wind."
"Do you think my father and his men may yet be deceived?" said
Mabel quickly.
"Not if I can prevent it, Mabel. You say the Sarpent is on the
look-out too; so there is a double chance of our succeeding in
letting him know his danger; though it is by no means sartain by
which channel the party may come."
"Pathfinder," said our heroine solemnly, for the frightful scenes
she had witnessed had clothed death with unusual horrors, --
"Pathfinder, you have professed love for me, a wish to make me your
wife?"
"I did ventur' to speak on that subject, Mabel, and the Sergeant
has even lately said that you are kindly disposed; but I am not a
man to persecute the thing I love."
"Hear me, Pathfinder, I respect you, honor you, revere you; save
my father from this dreadful death, and I can worship you. Here
is my hand, as a solemn pledge for my faith, when you come to claim
it."
"Bless you, bless you, Mabel; this is more than I desarve - more,
I fear, than I shall know how to profit by as I ought. It was
not wanting, however, to make me sarve the Sergeant. We are old
comrades, and owe each other a life; though I fear me, Mabel, being
a father's comrade is not always the best recommendation with a
daughter."
"You want no other recommendation than your own acts -- your
courage, your fidelity. All that you do and say, Pathfinder, my
reason approves, and the heart will, nay, it _shall_ follow."
"This is a happiness I little expected this night; but we are
in God's hands, and He will protect us in His own way. These are
sweet words, Mabel; but they were not wanting to make me do all
that man can do in the present circumstances; they will not lessen
my endeavors, neither."
"Now we understand each other, Pathfinder," Mabel added hoarsely,
"let us not lose one of the precious moments, which may be of
incalculable value. Can we not get into your canoe and go and
meet my father?"
"That is not the course I advise. I don't know by which channel the
Sergeant will come, and there are twenty; rely on it, the Sarpent
will be winding his way through them all. No, no! my advice is
to remain here. The logs of this blockhouse are still green, and
it will not be easy to set them on fire; and I can make good the
place, bating a burning, ag'in a tribe. The Iroquois nation cannot
dislodge me from this fortress, so long as we can keep the flames
off it. The Sergeant is now 'camped on some island, and will not
come in until morning. If we hold the block, we can give him timely
warning, by firing rifles, for instance; and should he determine
to attack the savages, as a man of his temper will be very likely
to do, the possession of this building will be of great account in
the affair. No, no! my judgment says remain, if the object be to
sarve the Sergeant, though escape for our two selves will be no
very difficult matter."
"Stay," murmured Mabel, "stay, for God's sake, Pathfinder! Anything,
everything to save my father!"
"Yes, that is natur'. I am glad to hear you say this, Mabel, for
I own a wish to see the Sergeant fairly supported. As the matter
now stands, he has gained himself credit; and, could he once
drive off these miscreants, and make an honorable retreat, laying
the huts and block in ashes, no doubt, Lundie would remember it
and sarve him accordingly. Yes, yes, Mabel, we must not only save
the Sergeant's life, but we must save his reputation."
"No blame can rest on my father on account of the surprise of this
island."
"There's no telling, there's no telling; military glory is a most
unsartain thing. I've seen the Delawares routed, when they desarved
more credit than at other times when they've carried the day. A
man is wrong to set his head on success of any sort, and worst of
all on success in war. I know little of the settlements, or of
the notions that men hold in them; but up hereaway even the Indians
rate a warrior's character according to his luck. The principal
thing with a soldier is never to be whipt; nor do I think mankind
stops long to consider how the day was won or lost. For my part,
Mabel, I make it a rule when facing the inimy to give him as good
as I can send, and to try to be moderate after a defeat, little need
be said on that score, as a flogging is one of the most humbling
things in natur'. The parsons preach about humility in the garrison;
but if humility would make Christians, the king's troops ought to
be saints, for they've done little as yet this war but take lessons
from the French, beginning at Fort du Quesne and ending at Ty."
"My father could not have suspected that the position of the island
was known to the enemy," resumed Mabel, whose thoughts were running
on the probable effect of the recent events on the Sergeant.
"That is true; nor do I well see how the Frenchers found it out.
The spot is well chosen, and it is not an easy matter, even for
one who has travelled the road to and from it, to find it again.
There has been treachery, I fear; yes, yes, there must have been
treachery."
"Oh, Pathfinder! can this be?"
"Nothing is easier, Mabel, for treachery comes as nat'ral to some
men as eating. Now when I find a man all fair words I look close
to his deeds; for when the heart is right, and really intends to
do good, it is generally satisfied to let the conduct speak instead
of the tongue."
"Jasper Western is not one of these," said Mabel impetuously. "No
youth can be more sincere in his manner, or less apt to make the
tongue act for the head."
"Jasper Western! tongue and heart are both right with that lad,
depend on it, Mabel; and the notion taken up by Lundie, and the
Quartermaster, and the Sergeant, and your uncle too, is as wrong
as it would be to think that the sun shone by night and the stars
shone by day. No, no; I'll answer for Eau-douce's honesty with my
own scalp, or, at need, with my own rifle."
"Bless you, bless you, Pathfinder!" exclaimed Mabel, extending her
own hand and pressing the iron fingers of her companion, under a
state of feeling that far surpassed her own consciousness of its
strength. "You are all that is generous, all that is noble! God
will reward you for it."
"Ah, Mabel, I fear me, if this be true, I should not covet such
a wife as yourself; but would leave you to be sued for by some
gentleman of the garrison, as your desarts require."
"We will not talk of this any more to-night," Mabel answered in a
voice so smothered as to seem nearly choked. "We must think less
of ourselves just now, Pathfinder, and more of our friends. But
I rejoice from my soul that you believe Jasper innocent. Now let
us talk of other things -- ought we not to release June?"
"I've been thinking about the woman; for it will not be safe to
shut our eyes and leave hers open, on this side of the blockhouse
door. If we put her in the upper room, and take away the ladder,
she'll be a prisoner at least."
"I cannot treat one thus who has saved my life. It would be better
to let her depart, for I think she is too much my friend to do
anything to harm me."
"You do not know the race, Mabel, you do not know the race. It's
true she's not a full-blooded Mingo, but she consorts with the
vagabonds, and must have larned some of their tricks. What is
that?"
"It sounds like oars; some boat is passing through the channel."
Pathfinder closed the trap that led to the lower room, to prevent
June from escaping, extinguished the candle, and went hastily to
a loop, Mabel looking over his shoulder in breathless curiosity.
These several movements consumed a minute or two; and by the time
the eye of the scout had got a dim view of things without, two
boats had swept past and shot up to the shore, at a spot some fifty
yards beyond the block, where there was a regular landing. The
obscurity prevented more from being seen; and Pathfinder whispered
to Mabel that the new-comers were as likely to be foes as friends,
for he did not think her father could possibly have arrived so
soon. A number of men were now seen to quit the boats, and then
followed three hearty English cheers, leaving no further doubts of
the character of the party. Pathfinder sprang to the trap, raised
it, glided down the ladder, and began to unbar the door, with an
earnestness that proved how critical he deemed the moment. Mabel
had followed, but she rather impeded than aided his exertions,
and but a single bar was turned when a heavy discharge of rifles
was heard. They were still standing in breathless suspense, as
the war-whoop rang in all the surrounding thickets. The door now
opened, and both Pathfinder and Mabel rushed into the open air. All
human sounds had ceased. After listening half a minute, however,
Pathfinder thought he heard a few stifled groans near the boats;
but the wind blew so fresh, and the rustling of the leaves mingled
so much with the murmurs of the passing air, that he was far from
certain. But Mabel was borne away by her feelings, and she rushed
by him, taking the way towards the boats.
"This will not do, Mabel," said the scout in an earnest but low
voice, seizing her by an arm; "this will never do. Sartain death
would follow, and that without sarving any one. We must return to
the block."
"Father! my poor, dear, murdered father!" said the girl wildly,
though habitual caution, even at that trying moment, induced her
to speak low. "Pathfinder, if you love me, let me go to my dear
father."
"This will not do, Mabel. It is singular that no one speaks; no
one returns the fire from the boats; and I have left Killdeer in
the block! But of what use would a rifle be when no one is to be
seen?"
At that moment the quick eye of Pathfinder, which, while he held
Mabel firmly in his grasp, had never ceased to roam over the dim
scene, caught an indistinct view of five or six dark crouching
forms, endeavoring to steal past him, doubtless with the intention
of intercepting the retreat to the blockhouse. Catching up Mabel,
and putting her under an arm, as if she were an infant, the sinewy
frame of the woodsman was exerted to the utmost, and he succeeded
in entering the building. The tramp of his pursuers seemed
immediately at his heels. Dropping his burden, he turned, closed
the door, and had fastened one bar, as a rush against the solid
mass threatened to force it from the hinges. To secure the other
bars was the work of an instant.
Mabel now ascended to the first floor, while Pathfinder remained
as a sentinel below. Our heroine was in that state in which the
body exerts itself, apparently without the control of the mind. She
relighted the candle mechanically, as her companion had desired,
and returned with it below, where he was waiting her reappearance.
No sooner was Pathfinder in possession of the light than he examined
the place carefully, to make certain no one was concealed in the
fortress, ascending to each floor in succession, after assuring
himself that he left no enemy in his rear. The result was the
conviction that the blockhouse now contained no one but Mabel and
himself, June having escaped. When perfectly convinced on this
material point, Pathfinder rejoined our heroine in the principal
apartment, setting down the light and examining the priming of
Killdeer before he seated himself.
"Our worst fears are realized!" said Mabel, to whom the hurry
and excitement of the last five minutes appeared to contain the
emotions of a life. "My beloved father and all his party are slain
or captured!"
"We don't know that -- morning will tell us all. I do not think
the affair so settled as that, or we should hear the vagabond Mingos
yelling out their triumph around the blockhouse. Of one thing we
may be sartain; if the inimy has really got the better, he will
not be long in calling upon us to surrender. The squaw will let
him into the secret of our situation; and, as they well know the
place cannot be fired by daylight, so long as Killdeer continues
to desarve his reputation, you may depend on it that they will
not be backward in making their attempt while darkness helps them."
"Surely I hear a groan!"
"'Tis fancy, Mabel; when the mind gets to be skeary, especially a
woman's mind, she often concaits things that have no reality. I've
known them that imagined there was truth in dreams."
"Nay, I am _not_ deceived; there is surely one below, and in pain."
Pathfinder was compelled to own that the quick senses of Mabel
had not deceived her. He cautioned her, however, to repress her
feelings; and reminded her that the savages were in the practice
of resorting to every artifice to attain their ends, and that
nothing was more likely than that the groans were feigned with a
view to lure them from the blockhouse, or, at least, to induce them
to open the door.
"No, no, no!" said Mabel hurriedly; "there is no artifice in those
sounds, and they come from anguish of body, if not of spirit.
They are fearfully natural."
"Well, we shall soon know whether a friend is there or not. Hide
the light again, Mabel, and I will speak the person from a loop."
Not a little precaution was necessary, according to Pathfinder's
judgment and experience, in performing even this simple act; for
he had known the careless slain by their want of proper attention
to what might have seemed to the ignorant supererogatory means of
safety. He did not place his mouth to the loop itself, but so near
it that he could be heard without raising his voice, and the same
precaution was observed as regards his ear.
"Who is below?" Pathfinder demanded, when his arrangements were
made to his mind. "Is any one in suffering? If a friend, speak
boldly, and depend on our aid."
"Pathfinder!" answered a voice that both Mabel and the person
addressed at once knew to be the Sergeant's, --"Pathfinder, in the
name of God, tell me what has become of my daughter."
"Father, I am here, unhurt, safe! and oh that I could think the
same of you!"
The ejaculation of thanksgiving that followed was distinctly audible
to the two, but it was clearly mingled with, a groan of pain.
"My worst forebodings are realized!" said Mabel with a sort of
desperate calmness. "Pathfinder, my father must be brought within
the block, though we hazard everything to do it."
"This is natur', and it is the law of God. But, Mabel, be calm,
and endivor to be cool. All that can be effected for the Sergeant
by human invention shall be done. I only ask you to be cool."
"I am, I am, Pathfinder. Never in my life was I more calm, more
collected, than at this moment. But remember how perilous may be
every instant; for Heaven's sake, what we do, let us do without
delay."
Pathfinder was struck with the firmness of Mabel's tones, and
perhaps he was a little deceived by the forced tranquillity and
self-possession she had assumed. At all events, he did not deem
any further explanations necessary, but descended forthwith, and
began to unbar the door. This delicate process was conducted with
the usual caution, but, as he warily permitted the mass of timber
to swing back on the hinges, he felt a pressure against it, that
had nearly induced him to close it again. But, catching a glimpse
of the cause through the crack, the door was permitted to swing
back, when the body of Sergeant Dunham, which was propped against
it, fell partly within the block. To draw in the legs and secure
the fastenings occupied the Pathfinder but a moment. Then there
existed no obstacle to their giving their undivided care to the
wounded man.
Mabel, in this trying scene, conducted herself with the sort of
unnatural energy that her sex, when aroused, is apt to manifest.
She got the light, administered water to the parched lips of her
father, and assisted Pathfinder in forming a bed of straw for his
body and a pillow of clothes for his head. All this was done
earnestly, and almost without speaking; nor did Mabel shed a tear,
until she heard the blessings of her father murmured on her head
for this tenderness and care. All this time Mabel had merely
conjectured the condition of her parent. Pathfinder, however,
had shown greater attention to the physical danger of the Sergeant.
He had ascertained that a rifle-ball had passed through the body
of the wounded man; and he was sufficiently familiar with injuries
of this nature to be certain that the chances of his surviving the
hurt were very trifling, if any.