The Pathfinder | Page 7

then -- "
"Nay, I had better rely on my youth and feebleness," said the girl,
smiling, while her color heightened under her feelings. "Among
Christian men, a woman's best guard is her claim to their protection. I
know nothing of arms, and wish to live in ignorance of them."
The uncle desisted; and, after receiving a few cautious instructions
from the Tuscarora, Mabel rallied all her spirit, and advanced alone
towards the group seated near the fire. Although the heart of the girl
beat quick, her step was firm, and her movements, seemingly, were
without reluctance. A death-like silence reigned in the forest, for they
towards whom she approached were too much occupied in appeasing
their hunger to avert their looks for an instant from the important
business in which they were all engaged. When Mabel, however, had
got within a hundred feet of the fire, she trod upon a dried stick, and the
trifling noise produced by her light footstep caused the Mohican, as

Arrowhead had pronounced the Indian to be, and his companion, whose
character had been thought so equivocal, to rise to their feet, as quick as
thought. Both glanced at the rifles that leaned against a tree; and then
each stood without stretching out an arm, as his eyes fell on the form of
the girl. The Indian uttered a few words to his companion, and resumed
his seat and his meal as calmly as if no interruption had occurred. On
the contrary, the white man left the fire, and came forward to meet
Mabel.
The latter saw, as the stranger approached that she was about to be
addressed by one of her own color, though his dress was so strange a
mixture of the habits of the two races, that it required a near look to be
certain of the fact. He was of middle age; but there was an open
honesty, a total absence of guile, in his face, which otherwise would
not have been thought handsome, that at once assured Magnet she was
in no danger. Still she paused.
"Fear nothing, young woman," said the hunter, for such his attire would
indicate him to be; "you have met Christian men in the wilderness, and
such as know how to treat all kindly who are disposed to peace and
justice. I am a man well known in all these parts, and perhaps one of
my names may have reached your ears. By the Frenchers and the
red-skins on the other side of the Big Lakes, I am called La Longue
Carabine; by the Mohicans, a just-minded and upright tribe, what is left
of them, Hawk Eye; while the troops and rangers along this side of the
water call me Pathfinder, inasmuch as I have never been known to miss
one end of the trail, when there was a Mingo, or a friend who stood in
need of me, at the other."
This was not uttered boastfully, but with the honest confidence of one
who well knew that by whatever name others might have heard of him,
who had no reason to blush at the reports. The effect on Mabel was
instantaneous. The moment she heard the last sobriquet she clasped her
hands eagerly and repeated the word "Pathfinder!"
"So they call me, young woman, and many a great lord has got a title
that he did not half so well merit; though, if truth be said, I rather pride
myself in finding my way where there is no path, than in finding it

where there is. But the regular troops are by no means particular, and
half the time they don't know the difference between a trail and a path,
though one is a matter for the eye, while the other is little more than
scent."
"Then you are the friend my father promised to send to meet us?"
"If you are Sergeant Dunham's daughter, the great Prophet of the
Delawares never uttered more truth."
"I am Mabel; and yonder, hid by the trees, are my uncle, whose name is
Cap, and a Tuscarora called Arrowhead. We did not hope to meet you
until we had nearly reached the shores of the lake."
"I wish a juster-minded Indian had been your guide," said Pathfinder;
"for I am no lover of the Tuscaroras, who have travelled too far from
the graves of their fathers always to remember the Great Spirit; and
Arrowhead is an ambitious chief. Is the Dew-of-June with him?"
"His wife accompanies us, and a humble and mild creature she is."
"Ay, and true-hearted; which is more than any who know him will say
of Arrowhead. Well, we must take the fare that Providence bestows,
while we follow the trail of life. I suppose worse guides might have
been found than the Tuscarora; though