CHAPTER VII And is this Yaro, this the stream of which by fancy cherished, so faithfully awaking dream, an image that hath perished? Oh, that some minstrel's harp were near to utter notes of gladness, and chaste the silence from the air that fills my heart with sadness. Attributed to 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 of bored them, and even Jasper, who by this time began to tremble on 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 and 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?  Rely on me, on us all. Your uncle, Pathfinder, the Delaware, we're 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, as 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 wounded in 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 situated 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. Ah, 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 attempted pleasantry, he would be glad to have you for one in reality. And if he did, O'doose, 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 service in the garrisons, and tried hard, as becomes a true soldier, to join in the prayers. For, though no unlisted sergeant of the king, I fight his battles and serve 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 as 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. But there the thoughts are freed amount 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 a 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 a 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 damn slander, girl, for all the essentials of Christianity the seamen beats the landsmen 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 and 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 has ever heard in uproars and gales. How is it with you, Odus? You face the tempest as well as Master Cap, and ought to know something of the feelings of storms. I fear that I am much 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 as much as I ought. Fresh water, returned Cap, pithily. You are not to expect too much of the young man, Mabel. I think they call you sometimes by a name that would insinuate all this. Odus, is it not? Odus. 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. Aye, aye, Odus, that must mean the white brandy, which may well enough be called the deuce for deucid stuff it is. The signification of Odus is sweet water, and it is the manner in which the French express fresh water, rejoined Jasper a little nettle. And how the devil do they make water out of O in deuce, when it means brandy and O to V. Besides among seamen, O always means brandy, and O to V, 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 voyage or two on the Atlantic, it will serve you a good turn in the remainder of your days. Emable 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 those 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. O deuce or O to V, he is a brave true-hearted youth, and I always sleep as soundly when he is on the watches, if I was up and stirring myself. I, 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. People 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 ought 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 leans, 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 traitor 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 is 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.  I bolster each other up in your ignorance, return Cap with a sneer. We seamen are so much outnumbered 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 have 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.  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.  Well, well, I have mistaken your calling, which I had thought is regularly war-like, 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 is worthwhile 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 marshal, 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 peace to a regular double-sided long-barreled rifle. Such conceits will come over men from long habit, and prejudice is perhaps the commonest failing of a human nature. 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 the 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 and the eloquent language of night in a wilderness. The air sighed through ten thousand trees, the water rippled, and it 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 air-quoy 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 drop closer into the shore and reconnoit her. Go, boy, but be light with the paddle, and a no-account venture ashore on an uncertainty. 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 these slumbers of the forest. At the end of the period mentioned the snapping of the dried branches was again faintly heard, and the Pathfinder fancied that the sound of smothered voices reached him. I may be bestaken, 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. I, and run too in their happy hunting grounds, but nowhere else a red-skinned finishes with the earth after the breath quits the body. It is not one of his gifts to linger around his wigwam when his hour has passed. I seized 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. Ching Kachgook, 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. Huh! Domingos are squas. Three of their scalps hang at my girdle. They do not know how to strike the great serpent of the Delaware's. Their hearts have no blood, and their thoughts are on their return path across the waters of the Great Lake. Have you been among them, chief? And what has become of the warrior who was in the river? He has turned into a fish, 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, Ching Kachgook, 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 this 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 among the Iroquois concealed by the darkness, undetected, and in the main even unsuspected. Thus 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 now not easy to reach, as he had not yet received the reward of his services. Pathfinder communicated no more of his 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, continued he, 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 a 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 presence. It will never succeed, Pathfinder, eagerly interrupted Jasper. Mabel is not strong enough to trap in 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 serve 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 shear 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 we'll do all he can to prove to my father how much he values him. But I confess I should not like to quit the canoe, with the certainty we have of there being enemies like those we have seen in the forest. But my uncle can decide for me in this matter. I have no liking for the woods, said Cap. While one has a clear drift like this on the river, besides master pathfinder, to say nothing of the savages, you overlook the sharks. Sharks! Who ever heard of sharks in the wilderness? I, sharks, or bears or wolves, no matter what you call a thing, so it has the mind empowered to bite. Lord, Lord, man, do you dread any creature that is be found in the American forest? A catamount is a scary animal, I will allow. Then it is nothing in the hands of a practised hunter. Talk of the mingos and their deviltries, if you will, but do not raise a false alarm about bears and wolves. I, I, master pathfinder, this is all well enough for you, who probably know the name of every creature you would meet. Use is everything, and it makes a man bold when he might otherwise be bashful. I have known semen in the low latitudes swim for hours at a time among sharks, fifteen or twenty feet long. This is extraordinary, exclaimed Jasper, who had not yet acquired that material part of his trade, the ability to spin a yard. I have always heard that it was certain death to venture in the water among sharks. I forgot to see that the lads always took capstan bars or gunners hand-spikes or crows with them to wrap the beasts over the noses, if they got to be troublesome. No, no, I have no liking for bears or wolves. Though a whale in my eye is very much the same sort of fish as a red herring after it is dried and salted, Mabel and I had better stick to the canoe. Mabel would do well to change canoes, added Jasper. This of mine is empty, and even pathfinder will allow that my eye is sureer than his own on the water. And I will, cheerfully, boy. The water belongs to your gifts, and no one will deny that you have improved them to the utmost. You are right enough in believing that the sergeant's daughter will be safer in your canoe than in this, and though I would gladly keep near her myself, I have her welfare too much at heart not to give her honest advice. Bring your canoe close alongside, Jasper, and I will give you what you must consider as a precious treasure. I do so consider it," returned the youth, not losing a moment in complying with the request, when Mabel passed from one canoe to the other, taking her seat on the effects which had hitherto composed its sole cargo. As soon as this arrangement was made the canoes separated a short distance and the paddles were used, though with great care to avoid making any noise. The conversation gradually ceased, and as the dreaded rift was approached all became impressed with the gravity of the moment. That their enemies would endeavor to reach this point before them was almost certain, and it seemed so little probable any one should attempt to pass it. In the profound obscurity which reigned, the pathfinder was confident parties were on both sides of the river, in the hope of intercepting them when they might land. He would not have made the proposal he did had he not felt sure of his own ability to convert this very anticipation of success into a means of defeating the plans of the Iroquois. As the arrangement now stood, however, everything depended on the skill of those who guided the canoes, for should either hit a rock, if not split asunder, it would almost certainly be upset, and then would come not only all the hazards of the river itself, but, for Mabel, the certainty of falling into the hands of her pursuers. The utmost circumspection consequently became necessary, and each one was too much engrossed with his own thoughts to feel a disposition to utter more than was called for by the exigencies of a case. As the canoes stole silently along, the roar of the rift became audible, and it required all the fortitude of Cap to keep his seat, while these boating sounds were approached, amid a darkness which scarcely permitted a view of the outlines of the wooded shore and of the gloomy vault above his head. He retained a vivid impression of the falls, and his imagination was not now idle in swelling the dangers of the rift to a level with those of the headlong descent he had that day made, and even to increase them under the influence of doubt and uncertainty. In this, however, the old mariner was mistaken, for the Oswego rift and the Oswego falls are very different in their characters and violence, the former being no more than a rapid that glances among shallows and rocks, while the latter really deserved the name at Bohr, as has been already shown. Mabel certainly felt distrust and apprehension, but her entire situation was so novel, and her reliance on her guide so great that she retained a self-command which might not have existed had she clearer perceptions of the truth, or been better acquainted with the helplessness of men when placed in opposition to the power and majesty of nature. Is that the spot you have mentioned? she said to Jasper, when the roar of the rift first came distinctly on her ears. It is, and I beg you to have confidence in me. We are not old acquaintances, Mabel, but we live many days in one in this wilderness. I think already that I have known you years. And I do not feel as if you were a stranger to me, Jasper. I have every reliance on your skill, as well as on your disposition to serve me. We shall see, we shall see. Pathfinder is striking the rapids too near the center of the river. The bed of the water is closer to the eastern shore, but I cannot make him hear me now. Hold firmly to the canoe, Mabel, and fear nothing. At the next moment the swift current had sucked them into the rift, and for three or four minutes the awestruck, rather than the alarmed girl, saw nothing around her but sheets of glancing foam, heard nothing but the roar of waters. Twenty times did the canoe appear about to dash against some curling and bright wave that showed itself even amid that obscurity, and as often did it glide away again unharmed, impelled by the vigorous arm of him who governed its movements. Once and once only did Jasper seem to lose command of his frail bark, during which brief space it fairly whirled entirely round, but by a desperate effort he brought it again under control, recovered the lost channel, and was soon rewarded for all his anxiety by finding himself floating quietly in the deep water below the rapids, secure from every danger, and without having taken in enough of the element to serve for a draft. All is over, Mabel. The young man cried cheerfully. The danger is passed, and you may now indeed hope to meet your father this very night. God be praised! Jasper, we shall owe this great happiness to you. The Pathfinder may claim a full share in the merit, but what has become of the other canoe? I see something near us on the water. Is it not the boat of our friends? A few strokes of the paddle brought Jasper to the side of the object in question. It was the other canoe, empty and bottom upwards. No sooner did the young man ascertain this fact than he began to search for the swimmers, and, to his great joy, Cap was soon discovered drifting down on the current, the old seamen preferring the chances of drowning to those of landing among savages. He was hauled into the canoe, though not without difficulty, and then the search ended, for Jasper was persuaded that the Pathfinder would wade to the shore, the water being shallow, in preference to abandoning his beloved rifle. The remainder of the passage was short, though made amid darkness and doubt. After a short pause a dull roaring sound was heard, which at times resembled the mutterings of distant thunder, and then again brought with it the washing of waters. Jasper announced to his companions that they now heard the surf of the lake. Low curved spits of land lay before them, into the bay formed by one of which the canoe glided, and then it shot up noiselessly upon a gravelly beach. The transition that followed was so hurried and great that Mabel scarcely knew what passed. In the course of a few minutes, however, sentinels had been passed, a gate was opened, and the agitated girl found herself in the arms of a parrot who was almost a stranger to her. CHAPTER 8 OF THE PATHFINDER This is a Librebox recording. All Librebox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librebox.org. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. THE PATHFINDER by James Fenimore Cooper. CHAPTER VIII A land of love and a land of light, without a sun or moon or night, where the whivers swallowed a living stream and the light of pure celestial beam, the land of vision it would seem a still, un-everlasting dream. FROM THE QUEENS WAKE The rest that succeeds fatigue, and which attends a newly awakened sense of security, is generally sweet and deep. Such was the fact with Mabel, who did not rise from her humble pallet such a bad as a sergeant's daughter might claim in a remote frontier post, until long after the garrison it obeyed the usual summons of the drums and had assembled at the morning parade. Sergeant Dunham, on whose shoulders fell the task of attending to these ordinary and daily duties, had got through all his morning advocations, and was beginning to think of his breakfast before his child left her room, and came into the fresh air equally bewildered, delighted, and grateful at the novelty and security of her new situation. At the time of which we are writing, Oswego was one of the extreme frontier posts of the British possessions on this continent. It had not long been occupied, and was garrisoned by a battalion of arrangement which had been originally scotch, but into which many Americans had been received since its arrival in this country. All innovation that had led the way to Mabel's father filling the humble but responsible situation of the oldest sergeant. A few young officers also who were natives of the colonies were to be found in the corps. The fort itself, like most works of that character, was better adapted to resist an attack of savages than to withstand a regular siege, but the great difficulty of transporting heavy artillery and other necessaries rendered the occurrence of the latter a probability so remote as scarcely to enter into the estimate of the engineers who planned the defences. There were bastions of earth and logs, a dry ditch, a stockade, a parade of considerable extent, and barracks of logs that answered the double purpose of dwellings and fortifications. A few light field pieces stood in the area of the fort, ready to be conveyed to any point where they might be wanted, and one or two heavy iron guns looked out from the summits of the advanced angles, as so many admonitions to the audacious to respect their power. When Mabel, quitting the convenient but comparatively retired hut where her father had been permitted to place her, issued into the pure air of the morning, she found herself at the foot of a bastion which lay invitingly before her with a promise of giving a coup d'oeuvre of all that had been concealed in the darkness of the preceding night. Tripping up the grassy ascent, the light-hearted as well as light-footed girl, found herself at once on a point where the sight, at a few varying glances, could take in all the external novelties of her new situation. To the south would lay the forest through which she had been journeying so many weary days, and which had proved so full of dangers. It was separated from the stockade by a belt of open land that had been principally cleared of its woods to form the martial constructions around her. This glasis, for such in fact was its military use, might have covered a hundred acres, but with it every sign of civilization ceased. All beyond was forest, that dense, interminable forest which Mabel could now picture to herself, through her recollections, with its hidden, glassy lakes, its dark rolling stream, and its world of nature. Turning from this view, our heroine felt her cheek fanned by a fresh and grateful breeze, such as she had not experienced since quitting the far distant coast. Here a new scene presented itself, although expected it was not without a start and a low exclamation indicative of pleasure, that the eagle eyes of the girl drank in its beauties. To the north and east and west, in every direction, in short, over one entire half of the novel panorama, lay a field of rolling waters. The element was neither of that glassy green which distinguishes the American waters in general, nor yet of the deep blue of the ocean, the color being of a slightly amber hue, which scarcely affected its limpidity. No land was to be seen, with the exception of the adjacent coast, which stretched to the right and left in an unbroken outline of forest, with wide bays and low headlands of points. Still, much of the shore was rocky, and into its caverns the sluggish waters occasionally rolled, producing a hollow sound which resembled the concussions of a distant gun. No sail whitened the surface. No whale or other fish gambled on its bosom. No sign of use or service rewarded the longest and most minute gaze at its boundless expanse. It was a scene, on one side, of apparently endless forests, while a waste of seemingly interminable water spread itself on the other. Nature appeared to have delighted in producing grand effects by setting two of her principal agents in bold relief to each other. Neglecting details, the eye turned from the broad carpet of leaves to the still broader field of fluid, from the endless but gentle heavings of the lake, to the holy calm and poetical solitude of the forest, with wonder and delight. Maple Dunham, though unsophisticated, like most of her country women of that period, and ingenuous and frank as any warm-hearted and sincere-minded girl, well could be, was not altogether without a feeling for the poetry of this beautiful earth of ours. Although she could scarcely be said to be educated at all, for few of her sex at that day and in this country received much more than the rudiments of plain English instruction, still she had been taught much more than was usual for young women in her own station and life, and in one sense certainly she did credit to her teaching. The widow of a field officer, who formerly belonged to the same regiment as her father, had taken the girl in charge at the death of its mother, and under the care of this lady Maple had acquired some taste and many ideas which otherwise might always have remained strangers to her. Her situation in the family had been less that of a domestic than of a humble companion, and the results were quite apparent in her attire, her language, her sentiments, and even in her feelings, though neither, perhaps, rose to the level of those that would probably characterize a lady. She had lost the less refined habits and manners of one in her original position, without having quite reached a point that disqualified her for the situation in life that the accidents of birth and fortune would probably compel her to fill. All else that was distinctive and peculiar in her belonged to natural character. With such antecedents it will occasion the reader no wonder if he learns that Maple viewed the novel seen before her with a pleasure far superior to that produced by Volger's surprise. She felt its ordinary beauties as most would have felt them, but she had also a feeling for its sublimity, for that softened solitude, that calm grandeur and eloquent repose, which ever pervades broad views of natural objects yet undisturbed by the labors and struggles of man. How beautiful! she exclaimed, unconscious of speaking, as she stood on the solitary bastion facing the air from the lake and experiencing the genial influence of its freshness pervading both her body and her mind. How very beautiful! and yet how singular! The words and the train of her ideas were interrupted by a touch of a finger on her shoulder and turning in the expectation of seeing her father, Maple found Pathfinder at her side. He was leaning quietly on his long rifle and laughing in his quiet manner, while with an outstretched arm he swept over the whole panorama of land and water. Here you have both our domains, said he. Jasper's and mine. The lake is for him, and the woods are for me. The lad sometimes boasts of the breadth of his dominions, but I tell him my trees make as broad a plain on the face of this earth as all his water. Well, Maple, you are fit for either. But I do not see that fear of the mingos or night marches can destroy your pretty looks. It is a new character for the Pathfinder to appear in, to compliment a silly girl. Not silly, Maple. No, not in the least silly. The sergeant's daughter would do discredit to her worthy father, were she to do or say anything that could be called silly. Then she must take care and not put too much faith in treacherous flattering words. But, Pathfinder, I rejoice to see you among us again. For, though Jasper did not seem to feel much uneasiness, I was afraid some accident might have happened to you and your friend on that frightful rift. The lad knows us both, and was certain that we should not drown, which is scarcely one of my gifts. It would have been hard swimming of a sartandy with a long barreled rifle in the hand, and what between the game, and the savages and the French, Kildir and I have gone through too much in company to part very easily. No, no, we waited assure, the rift being shallow enough for that with small exceptions, and we landed with our arms in our hands. We had to take our time for it, on account of the Iroquois I will own. But as soon as the skulking vagabond saw the lights that the sergeant sent down to your canoe, we well understood they would de-camp, since a visit might have been expected from some of the garrison. So it was only sitting patiently on the stones for an hour, and all the danger was over. Patience is the greatest of virtues in a woodsman. I rejoice to hear this, for fatigue itself would scarcely make me sleep for thinking of what might befall you.  I must say, on my part, however, that I was right glad to see the lanterns come down to the water side, which I knew to be a sure sign of your safety. We hunters and guides are rude beings, but we have our feelings and our ideas, as well as any general in the army. Both Jasper and I would have died before you should have come to harm. We would. I thank you for all you did for me, Pathfinder. From the bottom of my heart I thank you and depend on it. My father shall know it. I have already told him much, but have still a duty to perform on this subject. Push, Mabel, the sergeant knows what this woods be, and what men, true red men, be too. There is little need to tell him anything about it. Well, now you have met your father. Do you find the honest old soldier the sort of person you expected to find? He is my own dear father, and receive me as a soldier and a father should receive a child. Have you known him long, Pathfinder? That is, as people count time. I was just twelve when the sergeant took me on my first scouting, and that is now more than twenty years ago. We had a tramping time of it. And, as it was before your day, you should have had no father, had not the rifle been one of my natural gifts. Explain yourself. It is too simple for many words. We were ambushed, and the sergeant got a bad hurt, and would have lost his scalp. But for a sort of inbred turn I took to the weapon. We brought him off, however, and a handsomer head of hair for his time of life is not to be found in the regiment than the sergeant carries about with him this blessed day. You saved my father's life, Pathfinder. Exclaim Mabel unconsciously, though warmly, taking one of his hard, sinewy hands into both her own. God bless you for this, too, among your other good acts. Nay, I did not say that much, though I believe I did save his scalp. A man might live without a scalp, and so I cannot say I saved his life. Jasper may say that much concerning you, but without his eye and arm the canoe would never have passed the rift in safety on a night like the last. The gifts of the lad are for the water, while mine are for the hunt and the trail. He is yonder in the cove there, looking after the canoes, and keeping his eye on his beloved little craft. To my eye, there is no likelier youth in these parts than Jasper Western. For the first time since she had left her room, Mabel now turned her eyes beneath her, and got a view of what might be called the foreground of the remarkable picture she had been studying with so much pleasure. The as we go through its dark waters into the lake, between banks of some height, that on the eastern side being bolder and projecting farther north than that on its western. The fort was on the ladder, and immediately beneath it were a few huts of logs, which, as they could not interfere with the defence of the place, had been erected along the strand for the purpose of receiving and containing such stores as were landed, or were intended to be embarked in the communications between the different ports on the shores of Ontario. Two low curved gravelly points have been formed with surprising regularity by the counteracting forces of the northerly winds and the swift current, and, inclining from the storms of the lake, formed two coves within the river. That on the western side was the most deeply indented, and as it also had the most water, it formed a sort of picturesque little port for the post. It was along the narrow strand that lay between the low height of the fort and the water of this cove that the rude buildings just mentioned had been erected. Several skiffs, bateau, and canoes were hauled up on the shore, and in the cove itself laid the little craft from which Jasper obtained his claim to be considered a sailor. She was cutter-rigged, might have been of forty tons berthen, was so neatly constructed and painted as to have something of the air of a vessel of war, though entirely without quarters, and rigged and sparred with so scrupulous a regard to proportions and beauty, as well as fitness and judgment, as to give her an appearance that even Mabelette once distinguished to be gallant and trim. Her mould was admirable, for a rite of great skill had sent her drafts from England at the express request of the officer who had caused her to be constructed. Her paint dark, warlike, and neat, and the long coach whip pennant that she wore at once proclaimed her to be the property of the king. Her name was the Skud. That, then, is the vessel of Jasper, said Mabel, who associated the master of the little craft very naturally with the cutter itself. Are there many others on this lake? The Frenchers have three, one of which they tell me is a real ship, such as are used on the ocean, another a brig, and a third is a cutter, like the Skud here, which they call the Squirrel, in their own tongue, however, and which seems to have a natural hatred of our own pretty boat, for Jasper seldom goes out that the Squirrel is not at his heels. And does Jasper want to run from a Frenchman, though he appears in the shape of a Squirrel and that, too, on the water? Of what use would Valor be without the means of turning it to account? Jasper is a brave boy, as all on this frontier know, but he has no gun except a little howitzer, and then his crew consists only of two men besides himself, and a boy. I was with him in one of his trepuzes, and the youngster was risky enough, for he brought us so near the enemy that rifles began to talk. But the Frenchers carry cannon and ports, and never show their faces outside of Frontenac, without having some twenty men, besides their Squirrel, in their cutter. No, no, this Skud was built for flying, and the Major says he will not put her in a fighting-humour by giving her men in arms, lest she should take him at his word, and get her wings clipped. I know little of these things, for my gifts are not at all in that way, but I see the reason of the thing. I see its reason, though Jasper does not. Ah, here is my uncle, none the worse for his swim, come to look at this inland sea. Sure enough, Cap, who had announced his approach by a couple of lusty hems, now made his appearance on the bastion, where, after nodding to his niece and her companion, he made a deliberate survey of the expanse of water before him. In order to effect this at his ease, the mariner mounted on one of the old iron guns, folded his arms across his breast, and balanced his body, as if he felt the motion of a vessel.  Well, Mr. Cap, asked the Pathfinder innocently, for he did not detect the expression of contempt that was gradually settling on the features of the other. Is it not a beautiful sheet, and fit to be named a sea? This, then, is what you call your lake, demanded Cap, sweeping the northern horizon with his pipe. I say, is this really your lake? Sarton, and if the judgment of one who has lived on the shores of many others can be taken, have very good lake it is. Just as I expected, a pond in dimensions, and a scuttle-butt in taste. It is all in vain to travel inland, in the hope of seeing anything either full-grown or useful. I knew it would turn out just in this way. What is the matter with Ontario, Master Cap? It is large and fair to look at, and pleasant enough to drink for those who can't get at the water of the springs. Do you call this large, asked Cap, again sweeping the air with the pipe? I will just ask you what there is large about it. Didn't Jasper himself confess that it was only some twenty leagues from shore to shore? But, Uncle, interposed Mabel, no land is to be seen except here on our own coast. To me it looks exactly like the ocean. This bit of pond looked like the ocean. Well, Magnet, that from a girl who has had real seaman in her family is downright nonsense. What is there about it, pray, that has even the outline of a sea on it? Why, then, what is there about it, pray, that has even the there is water, water, water, nothing but water, from miles on miles, far as the eye can see.  Ah, and as far as the eye can see in the bargain? Yes, Uncle, but the rivers have their banks, and there are trees along them, and they are narrow. And isn't this a bank where we stand? Don't these soldiers call this the bank of the lake? And aren't there trees and thousands, and aren't 20 leagues narrow enough of all conscience? Who the devil ever heard of the banks of the ocean, unless it might be the banks that are under water? But, Uncle, we cannot see across this lake as we can see across a river. There you are out, Magnet. Aren't the Amazon and Orinoco and La Plata rivers, and can you see across them? Harkypath finder, I very much doubt if this stripe of water here be even a lake, for to me it appears to be only a river. You are by no means particular about your geography, I find, up here in the woods. There you are out, Master Cap. There is the river, and a noble one, too, at each end of it. But this is old Ontario before you, and though it is not my gift to live on a lake, to my judgment, there are a few better than this. And, Uncle, if we stood on the beach at Rockaway, what more should we see than we now behold? There is a shore on one side, where banks there, and trees too, as well as those which are here. As well as those which are here. This is perverseness, Magnet, and young girls should steer clear of anything like obstinacy. In the first place the ocean has coasts, but no banks, except the grand banks, as I tell you, which are out of sight of land, and you will not pretend that this bank is out of sight of land, or even under water, as Maple could not very plausibly set up this extravagant opinion. Kat pursued the subject, his countenance beginning to discover the triumph of a successful disputant. And then them trees bear no comparison to these trees. The coasts of the ocean have farms and cities and country seats, and in some parts of the world castles and monasteries and lighthouses. Lighthouses in particular, on them. Not one of all which things is to be seen here. No, no, Master Pathfinder, I have never heard of an ocean that hasn't more or less lighthouses on it, whereas here away there is not even a beacon. There is what is better, a forest and noble trees, a fit temple of God. I, your forest may do for a lake, but of what use would an ocean be if the earth all around it were forest? Ships would be unnecessary, as timber might be floated in rafts, and there would be an end of trade, and what would a world be without trade? I am of that philosopher's opinion which says human nature was invented for the purposes of trade. Magnet, I am astonished that you should think this water even looks like sea water. Now, I daresay that there isn't such a thing as a whale in all your lake, Master Pathfinder. I never heard of one, I will confess, but I am no judge of animals that live in the water, unless it be the fishes of the rivers and the brooks. Nor a grampus, nor a porpoiseven, not so much as a poor devil of a shark. I will not take it on myself to say there is either. My gifts are not in that way, I tell you, Master Cap. Nor herring, nor albatross, nor flying fish, continued Cap, who kept his eye fastened on the guide, in order to see how far he might venture. No such thing as a fish that can fly, I daresay. A fish that can fly? Master Cap, Master Cap, do not think, because we are mere boarders that we have no ideas of nature, and what she has been pleased to do. I know there are squirrels that can fly. A squirrel fly? The devil, Master Pathfinder! Do you suppose that you have got a boy on his first voyage up here among you? I know nothing of your voyages, Master Cap, though I suppose them to have been many, for as for what belongs to nature in the woods, what I have seen I may tell, and not fear the face of man. And do you wish me to understand that you have seen a squirrel fly? If you wish to understand the power of God, Master Cap, you will do well to believe that, and many other things of a like nature, for you may be quite certain it is true. And yet Pathfinder, said Mabel, looking so prettily and sweetly, even while she played with the guide's infirmity that he forgave her in his heart. You, who speak so reverently at the power of the deity, appear to doubt that a fish can fly. I have not said it. I have not said it, and if Master Cap is ready to testify to the fact, unlikely as it seems, I am willing to try to think it true. I think it every man's duty to believe in the power of God, however difficult it may be. And why isn't my fish as likely to have wings as your squirrel, demented Cap, with more logic than was his want? That fish's do and can fly is as true as it is reasonable. Nay, that is the only difficulty in believing the story. Rejoined the guide. It seems unreasonable to give an animal that lives in the water wings, which seemingly can be of no use to it. And do you suppose that the fish's are such asses as to fly about underwater, when they are once fairly fitted out with wings? Nay, I know nothing of the matter, but that fish should fly in the air seems more contrary to nature still than that they should fly in their own element, that in which they were born and brought up, as one might say. So much for contracted ideas, Magnet, the fish fly out of water to run away from their enemies in the water, and there you see not only the fact but the reason for it. Then I suppose it must be true, said the guide quietly. How long are their flights? Not quite as far as those of pigeons, perhaps, but far enough to make an offering. As for those squirrels of yours, we'll say no more about them, friend Pathfinder, as I suppose they were mentioned just as a make-weight to the fish in favor of the woods. But what is this thing anchored here under the hill? That is the cutter of Jasper, uncle, said Mabel hurriedly, and a very pretty vessel, I think it is. Its name, too, is the scud. Aye, it will do well enough for a lake, perhaps, but it's no great affair. The lad has got a standing bowsprit, and whoever saw a cutter with a standing bowsprit before. But may there not be some good reason for it on a lake like this, uncle? Sure enough, I must remember this is not the ocean, though it does look so much like it. Ah, uncle, then Ontario does look like the ocean, after all. In your eyes, I mean, and those of Pathfinder, not in the least, in my magnet. Now you might set me down out yonder in the middle of this bit of a pond, and that, too, in the darkest night that ever fell from the heavens, and in the smallest canoe, and I could tell you it was only a lake. For that matter, the Dorothy, the name of his vessel, would find it out as quick as I could myself. I do not believe that Brig would make more than a couple of short stretches at the most before she would perceive the difference between Ontario and the old Atlantic. I once took her down into one of the large South American bays, and she behaved herself as awkwardly as a booby-wood in a church with a congregation in a hurry. And Jasper sails that boat? I must have a cruise with the lad, magnet, before I quit you, just for the name of the thing. It would never do to say I got inside of this pond and went away without taking a trip on it. Well, well, you needn't wait long for that, returned Pathfinder, for the sergeant is about to embark with a party to relieve a post among the Thousand Islands, and as I heard him say he intended that Mabel should go along, you can join the company, too. Is this true, magnet? I believe it is. Return the girl, a flush so imperceptible as to escape the observation of her companions glowing on her cheeks, though I have had so little opportunity to talk with my dear father that I am not quite certain. Here he comes, however, and you can inquire of himself. Notwithstanding his humble rank, there was something in the mien and character of Sergeant Dunham that commanded respect. Of a tall, imposing figure, grave and setternine disposition, an accurate and precise in his acts and manner of thinking, even Cap, dogmatical and supercilious as he usually was with landsmen, did not presume to take the same liberties with the old soldier as he did with his other friends. It was often remarked that Sergeant Dunham receives more true respect from Duncan of Lundy, the Scotch Laird who commanded the post, than most of the subalterns, for experience and tried services were of quite as much value in the eyes of the veteran major as birth and money. While the sergeant never even hoped to rise any higher, he so far respected himself and his present station as always to act in a way to command attention, and the habit of mixing so much with inferiors, whose passions and dispositions he felt it necessary to restrain by distance and dignity, had so far colored his whole deportment that few were altogether free from its influence. While the captains treated him kindly and as an old comrade, the lieutenants seldom ventured to dissent from his military opinions, and the ensigns it was remarked actually manifested a species of respect that amounted to something very like deference. It is no wonder then that the announcement of Mabel put a sudden termination to the singular dialogue we have just related, though it had been often observed that the Pathfinder was the only man on that frontier, beneath the condition of a gentleman who presumed to treat the sergeant at all as an equal, or even with the cordial familiarity of a friend. Good morrow, Brother Cap, said the sergeant, giving the military salute as he walked, in a grave stately manner on the bastion. My morning duty has maybe seemed forgetful of you and Mabel, but we have now an hour or two to spare and to get acquainted. Do you not perceive, brother, a strong likeness on the girl to her we have so long lost? Mabel is the image of her mother, sergeant, as I have always said, with a little of your firmer figure, though for that matter the caps were never wanting in spring in activity. Mabel cast a timid glance at the stern, rigid countenance of her father, of whom she had ever thought, as the warm-hearted dwell on the affection of their absent parents. And as she saw that the muscles of his face were working, notwithstanding the stiffness and method of his manner, her very heart yearned to throw herself on his bosom and to weep at will. But he was so much colder in externals, so much more formal and distant than she had expected to find him, that she would not have dared to hazard the freedom, even had they been alone. You have taken a long and troublesome journey, Brother, on my account, and we will try to make you comfortable while you stay among us. I hear you are likely to receive orders to lift your anchor, sergeant, and to shift your birth into a part of the world where they say there are a thousand islands. Pathfinder, this is some of your forgetfulness. Nay, nay, sergeant, I forgot nothing, but it did not seem to me necessary to hide your intentions so very closely from your own flesh and blood. All military movements ought to be made with as little conversation as possible. Return the sergeant, tapping the guide's soldier in a friendly but reproachful manner. You have passed too much of your life in front of the French not to know the value of silence, but no matter, the thing must soon be known, and there is no great use in trying now to conceal it. We shall embark a relief party shortly for a post on the lake. Though I do not say it is for the thousand islands, nay may have to go with it, in which case I intend to take Mabel to make my broth for me, and I hope, Brother, you will not despise a soldier's fare for a month or so. That will depend on the matter of marching. I have no love for woods and swamps. We shall sail in the scud, and indeed the whole service, which is no stranger to us, is likely enough to please one accustomed to the water. Aye, to salt water, if you will, but not to lake water. If you have no person to handle that bit of a cutter for you, I have no objection to ship for the voyage, not withstanding, though I shall look on the whole affair as so much time thrown away, for I consider it an imposition to call sailing about this pond going to sea. Jasper is every way able to manage the scud, Brother Cap, and in that light I cannot say that we have need of your services, though we shall be glad of your company. You cannot return to the settlement until a party is sent in, and that is not likely to happen until after my return. Well, Pathfinder, this is the first time I ever knew men on the trail of the mingos and you not at their head. To be honest with you, Sergeant, return the guide, not without a little awkwardness of manner, and a perceptible difference in the hue of a face that becomes so uniformly read by exposure. I have not felt that it was my gift this morning. In the first place I very well know that the soldiers of the Fifty-Fifth are not the lads to overtake Iroquois in the woods, and the naves did not wait to be surrounded when they knew that Jasper had reached the garrison. Then a man may take a little rest, after a summer of hard work, and no impeachment of his good will. Besides, the serpent is out with him, and if the miscreants are to be found at all you may trust to his hymnity in sight, the first being stronger, and the last nearly, if not quite as good as my own. He loves the skulking vagabonds as little as myself, and for that matter I may say that my own feelings towards a mingo are not much more than the gifts of a Delaware grafted on a Christian stock. No, no, I thought I would leave the honor this time, if honor there is to be, to the young ensign that commands, who, if he don't lose his scalp, may boast of his campaign in his letters to his mother when he gets in. I thought I would play idler once in my life, and no one has a better right if long and faithful service entitles a man to a furlough. Returned the sergeant kindly. Mabel will not think the worse of you for preferring her company to the trail of the savages, and, I dare say, will be happy to give you a part of her breakfast if you are inclined to eat. You must not think, girl, however, that the Pathfinder is in the habit of letting prowlers around the fort beat a retreat without hearing the crack of his rifle. If I thought she did, sergeant, though not much given to showy and parade evolutions, I would shoulder kill dear and quit the garrison before her pretty eyes had time to frown. No, no, Mabel knows me better, though we are but new acquaintances, for there has been no wad of mingos to enliven the short march we have already made in company. It would need a great deal of testimony, Pathfinder, to make me think ill of you in any way, and more than all in the way you mention. Returned Mabel coloring with a sincere earnestness, with which she endeavored to remove any suspicion to the contrary from his mind. Both father and daughter, I believe, owe you their lives, and believe me, that neither will ever forget it. Thank you, Mabel. Thank you with all my heart. But I will not take advantage of your ignorance neither, girl, and therefore, shall say, I do not think the mingos would have heard a hair of your head, had they succeeded by their devil-trees and contrivances in getting you into their hands. My scalp, and jaspers, and master-caps there, and the sarpons too, would certainly have been smoked. But as for the sergeant's daughter, I do not think they would have heard a hair of her head. And why should I suppose that enemies known to spare neither women nor children would have shown more mercy to me than to another?  I say, nay, Mabel, they wouldn't have had the heart to hurt you.  Bad as I suspected the vampires to be, I do not suspect them of anything so wicked as that.  But beyond that I do not think even the mingos themselves would have gone. Well, then, I shall owe my escape from this greatness fortune to you, said Mabel, taking his hard hand into her own, frankly, and cordially, and certainly in a way to delight the honest guide.  That is her gift, Sergeant, exclaimed Pathfinder, turning to his old comrade with gratification written on every liniment of his honest countenance. And it will have its way.  That is the gift of a young woman born of Christian parents, and it ought to be maintained. You are right, Pathfinder, and so far as Mabel Dunham is concerned it shall be maintained. But it is time to break your fasts, and if you will follow me, Brother Cap, I will show you how we poor soldiers live here on a distant frontier. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. The Pathfinder by James Fenimore Cooper Chapter 9 Now my comates and partners in exile hath not old custom made this light more sweet than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods more free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam. Taken from, as you like it. Sergeant Dunham made no empty vaunt when he gave the promise conveyed in the closing words of the last chapter. Notwithstanding the remote frontier position of the post, they who lived at it enjoyed a table that, in many respects kings and princes might have envied. At the period of our tale, and indeed for half a century later, the whole of that vast region which has been called the West, or the new countries since the War of the Revolution, lay a comparatively unpeopled desert, teeming with all the living productions of nature that properly belong to the climate, man and the domestic animals accepted. The few Indians that roamed the forest then could produce no visible effects on the abundance of the game, and the scattered garrisons or occasional hunters that here and there were to be met with on that vast surface. Had no other influence than the bee on the buckwheat field or the hummingbird on the flower. The marvels that have descended to our own times in the way of tradition concerning the quantities of beasts, birds and fishes that were then to be met with, on the shores of the Great Lakes in particular, are known to be sustained by the experience of living men. Else might we hesitate about relating them, but having been eyewitnesses of some of these prodigies, our office shall be discharged with the confidence that certainty can impart. Oswega was particularly well placed to keep the larder of an epicure amply supplied. Fish of various sorts abounded in its river, and the sportsman had only to cast his line to haul in a bass or some other member of the Finney tribe which then peopled the waters, as the Arab of the swamps of this fruitful latitude are known to be filled with insects. Among others was the salmon of the lakes, a variety of that well-known species that is scarcely inferior to the delicious salmon of northern Europe. Of the different migratory birds that frequent forests and waters there was the same affluence, hundreds of acres of geese and ducks being often seen at a time in the Great Bays that indent the shores of the lake. Deer, bears, rabbits, and squirrels, with divers other quadrupeds, among which was sometimes included the elk or moose, helped to complete the sum of the natural supplies on which the post depended, more or less, to relieve the unavoidable privations of their remote frontier positions. In a place where vines that would elsewhere be deemed great luxuries were so abundant, no one was excluded from their enjoyment. The meanest individual at Oswego habitually faced it on game that would have formed the boast of a Parisian table, and it was no more than a healthy commentary on the caprices of taste and of the waywardness of human desires that the very diet which in other scenes would have been deemed the subject of envy and repinnings got to pawl on the appetite. The course and regular food of the army, which it became necessary to husband on account of the difficulty of transportation, rose in the estimation of the common soldier, and at any time he would cheerfully desert his venison and ducks and pigeons and salmon to banquet on the sweets of pickled pork, stringy turnips, and half-cooked cabbage. The table of Sergeant Dunham, as a matter of course, partook of the abundance and luxuries of the frontier, as well as of its privations. A delicious broiled salmon smoked on a homely platter, hot venison steaks set up their appetizing odors, and several dishes of cold meats, all of which were composed of game, had been set before the guests in honor of the newly-adrived visitors and in vindication of the old soldier's hospitality. "'You do not seem to be on short allowance in this quarter of the world, Sergeant,' said Cap, after he had got fairly initiated into the mysteries of the different dishes. "'Your salmon might satisfy us, Scotsman!' "'It fails to do it, not withstanding, Brother Cap. For among two or three hundred of the fellows that we have in this garrison, there are not a half a dozen who will not swear that the fish is unfit to be eaten. Even some of the lads, who never tasted venison except as poachers at home, turn up their noses at the fattest haunches that we get here.' "'Aye, that is Christian nature,' put in Pathfinder. "'And I must say it is none to its credit. Now a red-skinned never repines, but is always thankful for the food he gets, whether it be fat or lean, venison or bear, wild turkey's breast or wild goose's wing. To the shame of us white men, be it said, that we look upon blessings without satisfaction, and consider trifling evils as matters of great account. It is so with the fifty-fifth, as I can answer, that I cannot say as much for their Christianity.' Returned Sergeant. "'Even the Major himself, old Duncan of Lundy, will sometimes swear that an opial cake is better fare than the Oswego Bass, and sigh for a swallow of Highland water, when, if so minded, he has the whole of Ontario to quench his thirst in.' "'Has Major Duncan a wife and children?' asked Mabel, whose thoughts naturally turned towards her own sex in her new situation. Not he, girl, though they do say that he has a betrothed at home. The lady it seems is willing to wait, rather than to suffer the hardships of service in this wild region, all of which, Brother Cap, is not according to my notions of a woman's duties your sister thought differently.' "'I hope, Sergeant, you do not think of Mabel for a soldier's wife?' Returned Cap gravely. "'Our family has done its share in that way already, and it's high time that the sea was again remembered. I do not think of finding a husband for the girl in the fifty-fifth, or any other regiment, I can promise you, Brother, though I do think it getting to be time that the child were respectively married.' "'Father!' "'Tis not their gift, Sergeant, to talk of these manners, and so up in a manner,' said the guide. For I have seen it verified by experience, that he who would follow the trail of a virgin's good will must not go shouting out his thoughts behind her. So if you please, we will talk of something else.' "'Well, then, Brother Cap, I hope that bit of a cold-roasted pig is to your mind. You seem to fancy the food.' "'Aye, aye, give me civilized grub if I must eat,' returned the pertinacious seamen. "'Venison is well enough for your inland sailors, but we of the ocean, like a little of that which we understand.' Here Pathfinder laid down his knife and fork, and indulged in a hearty laugh, though in his always silent manner. Then he asked with a little curiosity in his manner. "'Don't you miss the skin, Master Cap? Don't you miss the skin?' "'It would have been better for its jacket, I think, myself, Pathfinder. But I suppose it is a fashion of the woods to serve up shoots in this style. "'Well, a man may go around the earth and not know everything. If you had had the skinning of that pig, Master Cap, it would have left you sore hands. Creature is a hedgehog.' "'Blast me if I thought it wholesome natural pork, either,' returned Cap. But then I believed even a pig might lose some of its good qualities up here away in the woods. If the skinning of it, brother, does not fall to my duty, Pathfinder—I hope you didn't find Mabel disobedient on the march. Not she, not she. If Mabel is only half as well satisfied with Jasper and Pathfinder, as the Pathfinder and Jasper are satisfied with her, Sergeant, we shall be friends for the remainder of our days.' As the guide spoke, he turned his eyes toward the blushing girl, with a sort of innocent desire to know her opinion. And then, with an inborn delicacy, which proved he was far superior to the vulgar desire to invade the sanctity of feminine feeling, he looked at his plate and seemed to regret his own boldness. "'Well, well, we must remember that women are not men, my friend,' resumed the Sergeant, and make proper allowance for nature and education. A recruit is not a veteran. Any man knows that it takes longer to make a good soldier than it takes to make anything else.' "'This is new, doctrine, Sergeant,' said Cap, with some spirit. We old seamen are apt to think that six soldiers, I, and capital soldiers, too, might be made while one sailor is getting his education.' "'I, Brother Cap, I've seen something of the opinions which seafaring men have of themselves.' Returned the brother-in-law, with a smile as bland as comported with his Saturnine features. For I was many years one of the garrison in the seaport. You and I have conversed on the subject before, and I'm afraid we shall never agree. But if you wish to know what the difference is between a real soldier, and man in what I should call a state of nature, you have only to look at a battalion of the Fifty-Fifth on parade this afternoon, and then, when you get back to York, examine one of the militia regiments making its greatest efforts.' "'Well, to my eye, Sergeant, there is very little difference, not more than you'll find between a brig and a snow. To me they seem all alike, all scarlet and feathers and powder and pipe clay.' "'So much, sir, for the judgment of a sailor.' Returned the sergeant with dignity. But perhaps you are not aware that it requires a year to teach a true soldier how to eat?' "'So much the worse for him. The militia know how to eat at starting. For I have often heard that on their marches they commonly eat all before them, even if they do nothing else.' "'They have their gifts, I suppose, like other men,' observed Pathfinder, with a view to preserve the peace, which was evidently in some danger of being broken by the obstinate predilection of each of the disputants in favour of his own calling. And when a man has his gift from Providence, it is commonly idle to endeavor to bear up against it. The Fifty-Fifth sergeant is a judicious regiment in the way of eating, as I know from having been so long in its company, though I daresay militia corps could be found that would outdo them in feats of that nature too.' "'I'll call,' said Mabel. If you have not breakfasted, I will thank you to go out upon the bastion with me again. We had neither of us half seen the lake, and it would be hardly seemly for a young woman to be walking about the fort the first day of her arrival quite alone.' Cap understood the motive of Mabel, and having at the bottom a hearty friendship for his brother-in-law, he was willing enough to defer the argument until they had been longer together, for the idea of abandoning it altogether never crossed the mind of one so dogmatical and obstinate. He accordingly accompanied his niece, leaving Sergeant Dunham and his friend, the Pathfinder, alone together. As soon as his adversary had beat a retreat, the sergeant, who did not quite so well understand the manoeuvre of his daughter, turned to his companion, and with a smile which was not without triumph, he remarked. The Army Pathfinder has never done itself justice in the way of asserting its rights, and though modesty becomes a man, whether he is on a red coat or a black one, or, for that matter, in his shirt-sleeves, I don't like to let a good opportunity slip of saying a word in its behalf. Well, my friend, laying his hand-hand on one of the Pathfinders and giving it a hearty squeeze, how do you like the girl? You have reason to be proud of her, Sergeant. I have seen many of her sex, and some that were great and beautiful, but never before did I meet with one in whom I thought Providence had so well balanced the different gifts. And the good opinion, I can tell you, Pathfinder is mutual. She told me last night all about your coolness and spirit and kindness, particularly the last, for kindness counts for more than half with females, my friend, and the first inspection seems to give satisfaction on both sides. Brush up the uniform and pay a little more attention to the outside, Pathfinder, and you will have the girl heart in hand. Hey, nay, Sergeant, I've forgotten nothing that you have told me, and grudge no reasonable gains to make myself as pleasant in the eyes of Mabel as she is getting to be in mine. I cleaned and brightened up Killdeer this morning as soon as the sun rose, and in my judgment the peace never looked better than it does at this very moment. That is, according to your hunting notions, Pathfinder, but firearms should sparkling glitter in the sun, and I never yet could see any beauty in a clouded barrel. Lord Howe thought otherwise, Sergeant, and he was accounted a good soldier? Very true, his Lord Chip had all the barrels of his regiment darkened, and what good came of it? You can see his scutcheon hanging in the English church at Albany. No, no, my worthy friend. A soldier should be a soldier, and at no time ought he to be ashamed or afraid to carry about him the signs and symbols of his honorable trade. Had you much discourse with Mabel, Pathfinder, as you came along in the canoe? There was not much opportunity, Sergeant, and then I found myself so much beneath her in ideas that I was afraid to speak of much beyond what belonged to my own gifts. Therein you are partly right and partly wrong, my friend. Women love trifling discourse, though they like to have most of it to themselves. Now you know I am a man that do not loosen my tongue at every giddy thought, and yet there were days when I could see that Mabel's mother thought none the worse of me, because I descended a little from my manhood. It is true I was twenty-two years younger then than I am today, and moreover, instead of being the oldest sergeant in the regiment, I was the youngest. Dignity is commanding and useful, and there is no getting on without it, as respects the men. But if you would be thoroughly esteemed by a woman, it is necessary to condescend a little on occasions. As me, Sergeant, I sometimes fear it will never do. Why do you think so discouragingly of a matter in which I thought both our minds were made up? We did agree. If Mabel should prove what you told me she was, and if the girl could fancy a rude hunter and guide, that I should quit some of my wandering ways and try to humanize my mind down to a wife and children. But since I have seen the girl, I will own that many misgivings have come over me. How's this? interrupted the sergeant sternly. Did I not understand you to say that you were pleased? And is Mabel a young woman to disappoint expectation? Ah, Sergeant, it is not Mabel that I distrust, but myself. I am but a poor ignorant woodsman, after all, and perhaps I am not, in truth, as good as even you and I may think me. If you doubt your own judgment of yourself, Pathfinder, I beg you will not doubt mine. Am I not accustomed to judgment's character? And am I often deceived? Ask Major Duncan, sir, if you desire any assurances on this particular. But, Sergeant, we have long been friends, have fit side by side a dozen times, and have done each other many services. When this is the case, men are apt to think over-kindly of each other, and I fear me that the daughter may not be so likely to view a plain ignorant hunter as favorably as the father does. Tut, tut, Pathfinder, you don't know yourself, man, and may put all faith in my judgment. In the first place you have experience, and, as all girls must want that, no prudent young woman would overlook such a qualification. Then you are not one of the coxcombs that strut about when they first join a regiment, but a man who has seen the service, and who carries the marks of it on his person and countenance. I daresay you have been under fire some thirty or forty times, counting all the skirmishes and ambushes that you have seen. All of that, Sergeant, all of that. But what will avail of gaining the good will of a tender-hearted young female? It will gain the day. Experience in the field is as good in love as in war. But you are as honest-hearted and as loyal a subject as the king can boast of. God bless him. That may be too, but I'm afeard I'm too rude and too old and too wild-like to suit the fancy of such a young and delicate girl as Mabel, who has been unused to our wilderness ways, and may think the settlements better suited to her gifts and inclinations. These are new misgivings for you, my friend, and I wonder they were never paraded before. Because I never knew my own worthlessness, perhaps, until I saw Mabel. I have travelled with some as fair and have guided them through the forest and seen them in their perils and in their gladness, but they were always too much above me to make me think of them as more than so many feeble ones I was bound to protect and defend. The case is now different. Mabel and I are so nearly alike that I feel weighed down with a load that is hard to bear at finding us so unlike. I do wish, Sergeant, that I was ten years younger, more comely to look at, and better suited to please a handsome young woman's fancy. Cheer up, my brave friend, and trust to a father's knowledge of woman kind. Mabel half loves you already, and a fortnight's intercourse and kindness, down among the islands yonder, will close ranks with the other half. The girl as much as told me this herself last night. Can this be so, Sergeant? said the guide, whose meek and modest nature shrank from viewing himself in colours so favourable. Can this be truly so? I am but a poor hunter, and Mabel, I see, is fit to be an officer's lady. Do you think the girl will consent to quit all her beloved settlement usages and her visitings in churchgoings to dwell with a plain guide and hunter up here away in the woods? Will she not, in the end, crave her old ways and a better man? A better man, Pathfinder, would be hard to find. Return the father. As for town usages they are soon forgotten in the freedom of the forest, and Mabel has just spared enough to dwell on a frontier. I've not planned this marriage, my friend, without thinking it over, as a general does his campaign. At first I thought of bringing you into the regiment that you might succeed me when I retire, which must be sooner or later, but on reflection, Pathfinder, I think you are scarcely fitted for the office. Still, if not a soldier in all the meetings of the word, you are a soldier in the best meeting, and I know that you have the goodwill of every officer in the corps. As long as I live, Mabel can dwell with me, and you will always have a home when you return from your scoutings and marches. This is very pleasant to think of, Sergeant, if the girl can only come into our wishes with goodwill, but as me it does not seem that one like myself can ever be agreeable in her handsome eyes. If I were younger and more comely now, as Jasper Western is, for instance, there might be a chance. Yes, then indeed, there might be some chance. That, for Jasper Odus, and every yonker of them in or about the fort, return the sergeant, snapping his fingers. If not actually a younger, you are a younger looking, I, and a better looking man than the Scud's master. Anon, said Pathfighter, looking up at his companion with an expression of doubt, as if he did not understand his meaning. I say, if not actually younger in days and years, you look more hearty and like Whipcord than Jasper or any of them, and there will be more of you thirty years hence than of all of them put together.  Jasper has as clear a conscience as any youth I know, sergeant, and is as likely to wear on that account as any in the colony. Then you are my friend, squeezing the other's hand, my tried, sworn, and constant friend. Yes, we have been friends, sergeant, near twenty years before Mabel was born. True enough, before Mabel was born we were well-tried friends, and the Hussie would never dream of refusing to marry a man who was her father's friend before she was born. We don't know, sergeant, we don't know. Like loves like. The young prefer the young for companions and the old the old. Not for wives, Pathfinder. I never knew an old man now who had an objection to a young wife. Then you are respected and esteemed by every officer in the fort, as I have said already, and it will please our fancy to like a man that everyone else likes. I hope I have no enemies but the mingos. Return the guide, stroking down his hair meekly and speaking thoughtfully. I've tried to do right, and that ought to make friends, though it sometimes fails. And you may be said to keep the best company, for even old Duncan of Lundy is glad to see you, and you pass hours in his society. Of all the guides he confides most in you. I, even greater than he is, have marched by my side for days, and have conversed with me as if I were their brother. But, sergeant, I have never been puffed up by their company, for I know that the woods often bring men to a level who would not be so in the settlements. And you are known to be the greatest rifle shot that ever pulled trigger in all this region. If Mabel could fancy a man for that, I might have no great reason to despair. And yet, sergeant, I sometimes think that it is all as much owing to kill-deer as to any skill of my own. It is certainly a wonderful piece, and might do as much in the hands of another.  We will get up a shooting-match in a day or two, when you can show your skill, and when Mabel will form some judgment concerning your true character. Will that be fair, sergeant? Everybody knows that kill-deer seldom misses, and ought we to make a trial of this sort when we all know what must be the result? Tut, tut, man! I foresee I must do half this courting for you. For one who is always inside of the smoke in a skirmish, you are the faintest-hearted suitor I ever met with. Remember, Mabel comes of a bold stock, and the girl will be as likely to admire a man as her mother was before her. Here the sergeant arose, and proceeded to attend to his never-ceasing duties, without apology, the terms on which the guide stood with all in the garrison rendering this freedom quite a matter of course. The reader will have gathered from the conversation just related one of the plans that Sergeant Dunham had in view in causing his daughter to be brought to the frontier. Although necessarily much weaned from the caresses and blandishments that had rendered his child so dear to him during the first year or two of his widowhood, he had still a strong but somewhat latent love for her. A custom to command and to obey, without being questioned himself or questioning others concerning the reasonableness of the mandates, he was perhaps too much disposed to believe that his daughter would marry the man he might select, while he was far from being disposed to do violence to her wishes. The fact was, few knew the Pathfinder intimately without secretly believing him to be one of extraordinary qualities. Ever the same simple-minded, faithful, utterly without fear, and yet prudent, foremost in all warrantable enterprises, or what the opinion of the day considered as such, and never engaged in anything to call a blush to his cheek or censure on his acts, it was not possible to live much with this being and not feel respect and admiration for him, which had no reference to his position in life. The most surprising peculiarity about the man himself was the entire indifference with which he regarded all distinctions which did not depend on personal merit. He was respectful to his superiors from habit, but had often been known to correct their mistakes and to reprove their vices with a fearlessness that proved how essentially he regarded them more material points, and with a natural discrimination that appeared to set education at defiance. In short, a disbeliever in the ability of man to distinguish between good and evil without the aid of instruction would have been staggered by the character of this extraordinary inhabitant of the frontier. His feelings appeared to possess the freshness and nature of the forest in which he passed so much of his time, and no casualist would have made clearer decisions in matters relating to right and wrong, and yet he was not without his prejudices, which though few and colored by the character and usages of the individual were deep-rooted and almost formed a part of his nature. But the most striking feature about the moral organization of Pathfinder was his beautiful and unerring sense of justice. This noble trait, and without it no man can be truly great, with it no man other than respectable, probably had its unseen influence on all who associated with him, for the common and unprincipled brawler of the camp had been known to return from an expedition made in his company, rebuked by his sentiments, softened by his language, and improved by his example. As might have been expected, with so elevated equality his fidelity was like the immovable rock. Treachery in him was classed among the things which are impossible, and as he seldom retired before his enemies, so was he never known, under any circumstances that admitted up an alternative, to abandon a friend. The affinity of such a character were, as a matter of course, those of like for like. His associates and intimates, though more or less determined by chance, were generally of the highest order as to moral propensities, for he appeared to possess a species of instinctive discrimination which led him, insensibly to himself, most probably, to cling closest to those whose characters would best reward his friendship. In short, it was said of the Pathfinder, by one accustomed to study his fellows, that he was a fair example of what a just-minded and pure man might be, while un-tempted by unruly or ambitious desires, and left to follow the bias of his feelings amid the solitary grandeur and ennobling influences of a sublime nature. Neither let aside by the inducements which influence all to do evil, amid the insettles of civilization, nor forgetful of the Almighty Being whose spirit pervades the wilderness as well as the towns. Such was the man whom Sergeant Dunham had selected as the husband of Mabel. In making this choice, he had not been as much governed by a clear and judicious view of the merits of the individual, perhaps, as by his own likings. Still no one knew the Pathfinder so intimately as himself without always conceding to the honest guide a high place in his esteem on account of those very virtues. That his daughter could find any serious objections to the match the old soldier did not apprehend. While, on the other hand, he saw many advantages to himself in dim perspective, connected with the decline of his days, and an evening of life passed among descendants who were equally dear to him through both parents. He had first made the proposition to his friend, who had listened to it kindly, but who, the sergeant was now pleased to find, already betrayed a willingness to come into his own views that was proportioned to the doubts and misgivings