 20. Wandering I found on my ruinous walk, by the dialstone, aged in green, one rose of the wilderness left on its stalk, to mark where a garden had been. Attributed to Campbell. It was not only broad daylight when Mabel awoke, but the sun had actually been up some time. Her sleep had been tranquil, for she rested in an approving conscience and fatigue contributed to render it sweet. And no sound of those who had been so early in motion had interfered with her rest. Springing to her feet and rapidly dressing herself, the girl was soon breathing the fragrance of the morning in the open air. For the first time she was sensibly struck with the singular beauties as well as with the profound retirement of her present situation. The day proved to be one of those of the autumnal glory so common to a climate that is more abused than appreciated, and its influence was every way in spiriting and genial. Mabel was benefited by the circumstance for, as she fancied, her heart was heavy on account of the dangers to which a father, whom she now began to love as women love when confidence as created, was exposed. But the island seemed absolutely deserted. The previous night, the bustle of the arrival had given the spot an appearance of life which was now entirely gone, and our heroine had turned her eyes nearly around on every object in sight, before she caught a view of a single human being to remove the sense of utter solitude. Then, indeed, she beheld all who were left behind, collected in a group around a fire which might be said to belong to the camp. The person of her uncle, to whom she was so much accustomed, reassured Mabel, and she examined the remainder with a curiosity natural to her situation. Besides Cap and the quartermaster there were the corporal, the three soldiers, and the woman who was cooking. The huts were silent and empty, and the low but tower-like summit of the blockhouse rose above the bushes, by which it was half concealed, in picturesque beauty. The sun was just casting its brightness into the open places of the glade, and the vault over her head was impending in the soft sublimity of the blue void. Not a cloud was visible, and she secretly fancied the circumstance might be taken as a harbinger of peace and security. Perceiving that all the others were occupied with that great concern of human nature, a breakfast, Mabel walked unobserved towards an end of the island where she was completely shut out of view by the trees and bushes. Here she got a stand on the very edge of the water, by forcing aside the low branches, and stood watching the barely perceptible flow and reflow of the miniature waves which loved the shore. A sort of physical echo to the agitation that prevailed on the lake fifty miles above her. The glimpses of natural scenery that offered were very soft and pleasing, and our heroine, who had a quick eye for all that was lovely in nature, was not slow in selecting the most striking bits of landscape. She gazed through the different vistas formed by the openings between the islands, and thought she had never looked on ought more lovely. While thus occupied, Mabel was suddenly alarmed by fancings she caught a glimpse of a human form among the bushes that lined the shore of the island which lay directly before her. The distance across the water was not a hundred yards, and those she might be mistaken, and her fancy was wondering when the form passed before her sight, still she did not think she could be deceived. Aware that her sex would be no protection against a rifle-bullet, should an Iroquois get a view of her, the girl instinctively drew back, taking care to conceal her person as much as possible by the leaves, while she kept her own look riveted on the opposite shore, vainly waiting for some time in the expectation of the stranger. She was about to quit her post in the bushes and hasten to her uncle in order to acquaint him of her suspicions, when she saw the branch of an alder thrust beyond the fringe of bushes on the other island, and waved towards her significantly, and as she fancied in token of amity. This was a breathless and a trying moment to one as inexperienced in frontier warfare as our heroine, and yet she felt the great necessity that existed for preserving her recollection and of acting with steadiness and discretion. It was one of the peculiarities of the exposure to which those who dwelled on the frontiers of America were liable, to bring out the moral qualities of the woman to a degree which they must themselves, under other circumstances, have believed they were incapable of manifesting, and Mabel well knew that the borderers loved to dwell in their legends on the presence of mind, fortitude, and spirit that their wives and sisters had displayed under circumstances the most trying. Her emulation had been awakened by what she had heard on such subjects, and it at once struck her that now was the moment for her to show that she was truly Sergeant Dunham's child. The motion of the branch was such as she believed indicated amity, and after a moment's hesitation she broke off a twig, fastened it to a stick, and thrusting it through an opening, waved it in return, imitating as closely as possible the manner of the other. This dumb show lasted two or three minutes on both sides, when Mabel perceived that the bush's opposite were cautiously pushed aside, and a human face appeared at an opening. A glance suffice to let Mabel see that it was the countenance of a red skin, as well as that of a woman. A second and a better look satisfied her that it was the face of Dew of June, the wife of Arrowhead. During the time she had traveled in company with this woman, Mabel had been won by the gentleness of manner, the meek simplicity, and the mingled awe and affection with which she regarded her husband. Once or twice in the course of the journey she fancied that Tuscarora had manifested towards herself an unpleasant degree of attention, and on those occasions it had struck her that his wife exhibited sorrow and mortification. As Mabel, however, had more than compensated for any pain she might in this way unintentionally have caused her companion, by her own kindness of manner and attentions, the woman had shown much attachment to her, and they had parted with a deep conviction on the mind of our heroine that in the Dew of June she had lost a friend. It is useless to attempt to analyze all the ways by which the human heart is led into confidence. Such a feeling, however, had the young Tuscarora woman awakened in the breast of our heroine, and the latter, under the impression that this extraordinary visit was intended for her own good, felt every disposition to have a closer communication. She no longer hesitated about showing herself clear of the bushes, and was not sorry to see the Dew of June imitate her confidence by stepping fearlessly out of her own cover. The two girls, for the Tuscarora, though married, was even younger than Mabel, now openly exchanged signs of friendship, and the latter beckoned to her friend to approach, though she knew not the manner herself in which this object could be affected. But the Dew of June was not slow in letting it be seen that it was in her power, for disappearing in a moment she soon showed herself again in the end of a bark canoe, the boughs of which she had drawn to the edge of the bushes, and of which the body still lay in a sort of covered creek. Mabel was about to invite her to cross when her own name was called aloud in the stentorian voice of her uncle. Making a hurried gesture for the Tuscarora girl to conceal herself, Mabel sprang from the bushes and tripped up the glade towards the sound, and perceived that the whole party had just seated themselves at breakfast, cap having barely put his appetite under sufficient restraint to summon her to join them. But this was the most favourable instant for the interview flashed on the mind of Mabel, and excusing herself on the plea of not being prepared for the meal, she bounded back to the thicket and soon renewed her communications with the young Indian woman. Dew of June was quick of comprehension, and with half a dozen noiseless strokes of the paddle her canoe was concealed in the bushes of Station Island. In another minute Mabel held her hand, and was leading her through the grove towards her own hut. Fortunately the ladder was so placed as to be completely hid from the sight of those at the fire, and they both entered it unseen. Hastley explaining to her guest, in the best manner she could, the necessity of quitting her for a short time, Mabel, first placing the Dew of June in her own room, with a full certainty that she would not quit it until told to do so, went to the fire and took her seat among the rest. With all the composure it was in her power to command. "'Late come, late serve, Mabel,' said her uncle, between mouthfuls of broiled salmon, for though the cookery might be very unsophisticated on that remote frontier, the vions were generally delicious. "'Late come, late served, it is a good rule, and keeps laggards up to their work.' "'I am no laggarduncle, for I have been stirring nearly an hour, and exploring our island.' "'It's little you make of that, Mistress Mabel,' put in Muir. "'That's little by nature. Lundy, or it might be better to style him Major Duncan in this presence.' This was said in consideration of the corporal and the common men, though they were taking their meal a little apart. He has not added an empire to his Majesty's dominion in getting possession of this island, which is likely to equal that of the celebrated Sancho in revenues and profits, Sancho of whom doubtless, Master Cap, you'll often have been reading in your leisure hours, more especially in calms and moments of inactivity. "'I know the spot you mean, quartermaster, Sancho's island, coral rock of new formation, and as bad a landfall, in a dark night and blowing weather, as a sinner could wish to steer clear of. It's a famous place for coconuts and bitter water, that's Sancho island.' "'It's no very famous for dinners,' returned Muir, repressing the smile which was struggling to his lips out of respect to Mabel. "'Nor do I think there'll be much to choose between its revenue and that of this spot. In my judgment, Master Cap, this is a very unmilitary position, and I look to some calamity befalling it sooner or later. "'It is to be hoped not until our turn of duty is over,' observed Mabel. "'I have no wish to study the French language. We might think ourselves happy did it not prove to be the Iroquois. I have reasoned with Major Duncan on the occupation of this position, but I will for ma'am on have his own way. My first object in accompanying this party was to endeavor to make myself acceptable and useful to your beautiful niece, Master Cap. And the second was to take such an account of the stores that belong to my particular department, I shall leave no question open to controversy, concerning the manner of expenditure, when they shall have disappeared by means of the enemy. "'Do you look upon matters as so serious?' demanded Cap, actually suspending his mastication of a bit of venison, for he passed alternately from fish to flesh and back again. In the interest he took in the answer. "'Is the danger pressing?' "'I'll no say it just that, and I'll no say just the contrary. There is always danger in war, and there is more of it at the advance post than at the main encampment. It ought, therefore, to occasion no surprise for we to be visited by the French at any moment.' "'And what the devil is to be done in that case! Six men and two women would make but a poor job in defending such a place as this, should the enemy invade us, as, no doubt, Frenchmen like, they would take very good care to come strong-handed. "'That we may depend on. Some very formidable force at the very lowest. A military disposition might be made in defense of the island, out of all question, and according to the art of war, though we would probably fail in the force necessary to carry out the design in any very creditable manner. In the first place, a detachment should be set off to the shore, with orders to annoy the enemy in landing. A strong party ought instantly to be thrown into the blockhouse, as the citadel, for on that all the different detachments would naturally fall back for support, as the French advanced, and an entrenched camp might be laid out around the stronghold, as it would be very a military indeed to let the foe get near enough to the foot of the walls to mine them. Chavaux de Frise would keep the cavalry in check, and as for the artillery, red doubts should be thrown up under cover of yon woods. Strong skirmishing parties, moreover, would be exceedingly serviceable in retarding the march of the enemy, and these different huts, if properly picketed and ditched, would be converted into very eligible positions for that object. Wee-hoo! Quartermaster! And who the devil is to find all the men to carry out such a plan? The king, out of all question, mastercap. It is his quarrel, and it's just he should bear the birthing of it. And we are only six. This is fine talking with a vengeance. You could be sent down to the shore to oppose the landing. Mabel might skirmish with her tongue at least. The soldier's wife might act chavaux de Frise to entangle the cavalry. The corporal should command the entrenched camp. History men could occupy the five huts, and I would take the blockhouse. You describe well, lieutenant, and should have been a limner instead of a soldier. Nah! I'd been very literal and upright in my exposition of matters. That there is no greater force here to carry out the plan is a fault of His Majesty's ministers than none of mine. But should our enemy really appear? Asked Mabel with more interest than she might have shown had she not remembered the guest in the hut. That course ought we to pursue. My advice would be to attempt to achieve that, pretty Mabel, which rendered Xenophon so justly celebrated. I think you mean a retreat, though I have guess at your illusion. You've imagined my meaning from the possession of a strong native sense, young lady. I am aware that your worthy father has pointed out to the corporal certain modes and methods by which he fancies this island could be held, in case the French should discover its position. But the excellent sergeant, though your father, and as good a man in his duties as ever wielded a spontaneous tune, is not the great Lord's stare, or even the Duke of Marlboro. I'll not deny the sergeant's merits in his particular sphere, though I cannot exaggerate qualities, however excellent, into those of men who may be in some trifling degree his superiors. What Dunham has taken counsel of his heart, instead of his head, in resolving to issue such orders. But if the fortfall the blame will lie on him that ordered it to be occupied, and not on him whose duty it was to defend it. Whatever may be the determination of the latter, should the French and their allies land, a good commander never neglects the preparations necessary to effect our retreat. I would advise Master Cap, who is admiral of our navy, to have a boat in readiness to evacuate the island, if need comes to need. The largest boat that we have left carries a very ample sail, and by hauling it around here, and mooring it under those bushes, there will be a convenient place for a hurried embarkation, and then you'll perceive, pretty maple, that is scarcely fifty yards before we shall be in a channel between two other islands, and hid from the sight of those who may happen to be on this. All that you say is very true, Mr. Muir, but may not the French come from that quarter themselves? If it is so good for a retreat, it is equally good for an advance. They'll know how the sense to do so discreet a thing, return Muir looking furtively and a little uneasily around him. They'll know how sufficient discretion. All French are a head-over-heels-nation, and usually come forward in a random way, so we may look for them, if they come at all, on the other side of the island. The discourse now became exceedingly desultery, touching principally, however, on the probabilities of an invasion, and the best means of meeting it. To most of this may be paid but little attention, though she felt some surprise that Lieutenant Muir, an officer whose character for courage stood well, should openly recommend an abandonment of what appeared to her to be doubly a duty her father's character being connected with the defense of the island. Her mind, however, was so much occupied with her guest that, seizing the first favorable moment, she left the table and was soon in her own hut again. Carefully fastening the door and seeing that the simple curtain was drawn before the single little window, Mabel next led the dew of June, or June, as she was familiarly termed by those who spoke to her in English, into the outer room making signs of affection and confidence. I am glad to see you, June, said Mabel with one of her sweetest smiles, and in her own winning voice. Very glad to see you. What has brought you thither, and how did you discover the island? Speak slow, said June, returning smile for smile and pressing the little hand she held with one of her own that was scarcely larger, though it had been hardened by labor. More slow, too quick. Mabel repeated her questions, endeavoring to repress the impetuosity of her feelings, and she succeeded in speaking so distinctly as to be understood. June, friend, returned the Indian woman. I believe you, June, from my soul I believe you. What has this to do with your visit? Friend, come to see friend, answered June, again smiling openly in the other's face. There is some other reason, June, else you would never run this risk and alone. You are alone, June. June, with you, no one else. June, come alone, paddle canoe. I hope so. I think so. But, nay, I know so. You would not be treacherous with me, June. What treacherous! You would not betray me, would not give me to the French, to the Iroquois, to Arrowhead. June shook her head earnestly. You would not sell my scalp. Here June passed her arm fondly around the slender waist of Mabel, and pressed her to her heart with a tenderness and affection that brought tears into the eyes of our heroine. It was done in the fond caressing manner of a woman, and it was scarcely possible that it should not obtain credit for sincerity, with a young and ingenuous person of the same sex. Mabel returned the pressure, and then held the other off at the length of her arm, looked her steadily in the face, and continued her inquiries. If June has something to tell her friend, let her speak plainly, she said. My ears are open. June frayed Arrowhead kill her. But Arrowhead will never know it. Mabel's blood melted to her temples, as she said this, for she felt that she was urging a wife to be treacherous to her husband. That is, Mabel will not tell him. He buried Tomahawk in June's head. That must never be, dear June. I would rather you should say no more than run this risk. Because good place to sleep, good place to stay. Do you mean that I may save my life by keeping in the blockhouse, June? Surely. Surely Arrowhead will not hurt you for telling me that. He cannot wish me any great harm, for I never injured him. Arrowhead wish no harm to handsome pale face. Returned June, averting her face. And though she always spoke in the soft, gentle voice of an Indian girl, now permitting its notes to fall so low as to cause them to sound melancholy and timid. Arrowhead love pale face girl. Mabel blushed. She knew not why, and for a moment her questions were repressed by a feeling of inherent delicacy. But it was necessary to know more, for her apprehensions had been keenly awakened, and she resumed her inquiries. Arrowhead can have no reason to love or to hate me, she said. Is he near you? Husband always near wife here, said June, laying her hand on her heart. Excellent creature, but tell me, June, ought I to keep in the blockhouse today, this morning, now? Blockhouse very good, good for women. Blockhouse got no scalp. I fear I understand you only too well, June, do you wish to see my father? No here, gone away. You cannot know that, June, you see the island is full of his soldiers. No full, gone away. Here June held up four of her fingers. So many red coats. And Pathfinder, would you not like to see the Pathfinder? He can talk to you in the Irkway tongue. Tongue gone with him, said June, laughing, keep tongue in his mouth. There was something so sweet and contagious in the infantile laugh of an Indian girl that Mabel could not refrain from joining in it, much as their fears were aroused by all that had passed. You appear to know, or to think you know all about us, June. But if Pathfinder be gone, Odus can speak French too. You know Odus, shall I run and bring him to talk with you? Odus gone too, all but heart, that there. As June said this, she laughed again, looked in different directions, as if unwilling to confuse the other, and laid her hand on Mabel's bosom. Our heroine had often heard of the wonderful sagacity of the Indians, and of the surprising manner in which they noted all things, while they appeared to regard none. But she was scarcely prepared for the direction the discourse had so singularly taken. Willing to change it, at the same time truly anxious to learn how great the danger that impended over them might really be, she rose from the campstool on which she had been seated, and by assuming an attitude of less affectionate confidence, she hoped to hear more of that she really desired to learn, and to avoid allusions to that which she found so embarrassing. You know how much or how little you ought to tell me, June, she said, and I hope you love me well enough to give me the information I ought to hear. My dear uncle, too, is on the island, and you are, or ought to be, his friend as well as mine, and both of us will remember your conduct when we get back to us we go. See, never get back, who know? This was said doubtingly, or as one who lays down an uncertain proposition, and not with a taunt or a desire to alarm. No one knows what will happen but God. Our lives are in his hands. Still, I think you are to be his instrument in saving us. This passed June's comprehension, and she only looked to her ignorance, for it was evident she wished to be of use. Block-cows very good! She repeated, as soon as her countenance ceased to express uncertainty, laying strong emphasis on the last two words. Well, I understand this, June, and will sleep in it tonight. Of course I am to tell my uncle what you have said. The dew of June started, and she discovered a very manifest uneasiness at the interrogatory. No, no, no, no! She answered, with a volubility and vehemence that was imitated from the French of the Canada's, no good to tell salt water. He much talk and long tongue, thinks woods all water, understand nothing, tell arrowhead and June die. You do, my dear uncle, injustice, for he would be as little likely to betray you as anyone. No understand. Salt water got tongue, but no eyes, no ears, no nose, nothing but tongue, tongue, tongue. Although Mabel did not exactly coincide in this opinion, she saw that Cap had not the confidence of the young Indian woman, and that it was idle to expect she would consent to his being admitted to their interview. You appear to think you know our situation pretty well, June. Mabel continued, Have you been on the island before this visit? Just come. How then do you know that what you say is true? My father, the Pathfinder, and Odus may all be here within sound of my voice, if I choose to call them. All gone! said June positively, smiling good-humoredly at the same time. Nay, this is more than you can say, certainly, not having been over the island to examine it. Got good eyes. See boat with men go away. See ship with Odus. Then you have been some time watching us. I think, however, you have not counted them that remain. June laughed, held up her four fingers again, and then pointed to her two thumbs, passing a finger over the last, she repeated the words, Redcoats, and touching the last, she added, Salt Water, Quartermaster. All this was being very accurate, and Mabel began to entertain serious doubts as to the propriety of her permitting her visitor to depart without her becoming more explicit. Still, it was so repugnant to her feelings to abuse the confidence this gentle and affectionate creature had evidently reposed in her, that Mabel had no sinner admitted the thought of summoning her uncle, then she rejected it as unworthy of herself and unjust to her friend. To aid this good resolution, too, there was the certainty that June would reveal nothing, but take refuge in a stubborn silence if any attempt were made to coerce her. You think, then, June, Mabel continued, as soon as these thoughts had passed through her mind, that I had better live in the blockhouse? Good place for women. Blockhouse got no scalp. Log stick. You speak confidently, June, as if you had been in it, and had measured its walls. June laughed, and she looked knowing, though she said nothing. Does any one but yourself know how to find this island? Have any of the Iroquois seen it? June looked sad, and she cast her eyes warily about her as if distrusting a listener. Tuscarora everywhere, Oswego, here, Frontenac, Mohawk, everywhere, if he see June kill her. But we thought that no one knew of this island, and that we had no reason to fear our enemies while on it. Much eye Iroquois. This will not always do, June. This spot is hid from ordinary sight, and few of even our own people know how to find it. One man can tell. Some Yankees talk French. Mabel felt a chill at her heart. All the suspicions against Jasper, which she had hitherto disdained to entertaining, crowded in a body on her thoughts, and the sensation that they brought was so sickening that for an instant she imagined she was about to faint. Arousing herself and remembering her promise to her father, she arose and walked up and down the hut for a minute, fanciing that Jasper's delinquencies were not to her, though her inmost heart yearned with the desire to think him innocent. I understand your meaning, June. She then said, You wish me to know that someone has treacherously told your people where and how to find the island? June laughed, for in her eyes Artifice in War was often her a merit than a crime, but she was too true to her tribe herself to say more than the occasion required. Her object was to save Mabel, and Mabel only, and she saw no sufficient reason for traveling out of the record, as the lawyers express it, in order to do anything else. Pale face know now, she added, Blockhouse good for girl, no matter for men and warriors. But it is much matter with me, June, for one of these men is my uncle, whom I love, and the others are my countrymen and friends. I must tell them what has passed. Then June be killed, returned the young Indian quietly, though she evidently spoke with concern. No, they shall not know that you have been here. Still, they must be on their guard, and we can all go into the Blockhouse. Go ahead, know, see everything, and June be killed. June come to tell young Pale Face friend, not to tell men. Every warrior watches own scalp. June woman, and tell woman, no tell man. Mabel was greatly distressed at this declaration of her wild friend, for it was now evident that the young creature understood that her communication was to go no further. She was ignorant how far these people considered the point of honor interesting in her keeping the secret, and most of all was she unable to say how far any discretion of her own might actually commit June and endanger her life. All these considerations flashed on her mind, and reflection only rendered their influence more painful. June, too, manifestly viewed the matter gravely, for she began to gather up the different little articles she had dropped in taking Mabel's hand, and was preparing to depart. To attempt detaining her was out of the question, and to part from her, after all she had hazarded to serve her, was repugnant to all the just and kind feelings of our heroine's nature. June, said she eagerly, folding her arms round the gentle but uneducated being, We are friends, from me you have nothing to fear, for no one shall know of your visit. If you could give me some signal just before the danger comes, some sign by which to know when to go into the blockhouse, how to take care of myself. June paused, for she had been an earnest in her intention to depart, and then she said quietly, Bring June pigeon. A pigeon? Where shall I find a pigeon to bring you? Next hut. Bring old one. June go to canoe. I think I understand you, June, but had I not better lead you back to the bushes, lest you meet some of the men? Go out first, count men, one, two, three, four, five, six. Here June held up her fingers and laughed, All out of the way, good, all but one. Call him one side, then sing, and fetch pigeon. Mabel smiled at the readiness and ingenuity of the girl, and prepared to execute her requests. At the door, however, she stopped, and looked back and treatingly at the Indian woman. Is there no hope of your telling me more, June? She said. Know all now, blockhouse good, pigeon tell, arrowhead kill. The last word sufficed, for Mabel could not urge further communications, when her companion herself told her that the penalty of her revelations might be death by the hand of her husband. Throwing open the door, she made a sign of adieu to June, and went out of the hut. Mabel resorted to the simple expedient of the young Indian girl to ascertain the situation of the different individuals on the island. Instead of looking about her with the intention of recognizing faces and dresses, she merely counted them, and found that three still remained at the fire, while two had gone to the boat, one of whom was Mr. Muir. The sixth man was her uncle, and he was coolly arranging some fishing tackle, at no great distance from the fire. The woman was just entering her own hut, and this accounted for the whole party. Mabel now, affecting to have dropped something, returned nearly to the hut she had left, trembling on air, stooped as if to pick up some object from the ground, and hurried towards the hut June had mentioned. This was a dilapidated structure, and had been converted by the soldiers of the last detachment into a sort of storehouse for their livestock. Among other things it contained a few dozen pigeons, which were regaling on a pile of wheat that had been brought off from one of the farms plundered on the Canada shore. Mabel had not much difficulty in catching one of these pigeons, although they fluttered and flew about the hut with a noise like that of drums, and concealing it in her dress she stole back towards her own hut with the prize. It was empty, and without doing more than cast a glance in at the door, the eager girl hurried down to the shore. She had no difficulty in escaping observation, for the trees and bushes made a complete cover to her person. At the canoe she found June, who took the pigeon, placed it in a basket of her own manufacturing, and, repeating the words, Blockhouse good! She glided out of the bushes and across the narrow passage, as noiselessly as she had come. Mabel waited some time to catch a signal of leaf-taking, or amity, after her friend had landed, but none was given. The adjacent islands, without exception, were as quiet as if no one had ever disturbed the sublime repose of nature, and nowhere could any sign or symptom be discovered, as Mabel then thought, that might denote the proximity of the sort of danger of which June had given notice. On returning, however, from the shore Mabel was struck with a little circumstance, that, in an ordinary situation, would have attracted no attention, but which, now that her suspicions had been aroused, did not pass before her uneasy eye unnoticed. A small piece of red bunting, such as is used in the instance of ships, was fluttering at the lower branch of a small tree, fastened in a way to permit it to blow out, or to droop like a vessel's pennant. Now that Mabel's fears were awakened, June herself could not have manifested greater quickness in analyzing facts that she believed might affect the safety of the party. She saw, at a glance, that this bit of cloth could be observed from an adjacent island, that it lay so near the line between her own hut and the canoe, as to leave no doubt that June had passed near it, if not directly under it, and that it might be a signal to communicate some important fact connected with the mode of attack to those who were probably lying and ambushed near them. Using the little strip of bunting from the tree, Mabel hastened on, scarcely knowing what her duty next required of her. June might be false to her, but her manner, her looks, her affection, and her disposition as Mabel had known it in the journey, forbade the idea. Then came the allusion to Arrowhead's admiration of the pale-faced beauties, some dim recollections of the looks of the Tuscarora, and a painful consciousness that few wives could view with kindness one who had estranged a husband's affections. None of these images were distinct and clear, but they rather gleamed over the mind of our heroine, than rested in it, and they quickened her pulses, as they did her step, without bringing with them the prompt and clear decisions that usually followed her reflections. She had hurried onwards towards the hut occupied by the soldier's wife, intending to remove at once to the blockhouse with the woman, though she could persuade no other to follow, when her impatient walk was interrupted by the voice of Muir. "'With us so fast, pretty Mabel,' he cried, "'and why so given to solitude? The worthy sergeant will deride my breeding if he hear that his daughter passes the mornings alone and unattended to, though he well knows it is my ardent wish to be her slave and companion from the beginning of the year to its end.' "'Surely, Mr. Muir, you must have some authority here,' Mabel suddenly arrested her steps to say. One of your rank would be listened to, at least, by corporal.' "'I don't know that. I don't know that,' interrupted Muir with an impatience and appearance of alarm that might have excited Mabel's attention at another moment. Command is command, discipline, discipline, and authority, authority. Your good father would be so grieved that he find me interfere into sully or carry off the laurels he is about to win, and I cannot command the corporal without equally commanding the sergeant. The wisest way will be for me to remain in the obscurity of a private individual in this enterprise, and it is so that all parties, from Lundy down, understand the transaction.' "'This I know, and it may be well, nor would I give my dear father any cause of complaint, but you may influence the corporal to his own good.' "'I'll not say that,' returned Muir in a sly, scotch way. It would be far safer to promise to influence him to his injury. Mankind, pretty Mabel, have their peculiarities, and to influence a fellow being to his own good, is one of the most difficult tasks of human nature, while the opposite is just the easiest. You'll not forget this, my dear, but bear it in mind for your own edification and government. But what is that you're twisting round your slender finger, as you may be said to twist hearts?' "'It is nothing but a bit of cloth, a sort of flag, a trifle that is hardly worth our attention at this grave moment. If a trifle is not so trifling as you may imagine, Mr. Mabel, taking the bit of bunting from her and stretching it at full length with both his arms extended, while his face grew grave and his eye watchful, you'll not have been fined in this Mabel, Dunham, in the breakfast!' Mabel simply acquainted him with a spot where and the manner in which she had found the bit of cloth. While she was speaking the eye of the quartermaster was not quiet for a moment, glancing from the rag to the face of our heroine and then back again to the rag, that his suspicions were awakened was easy to be seen, nor was he long in letting it be known what direction they had taken. "'We are not in a part of the world where our incense and gods mock to be spread broad to the wind, Mabel Dunham!' he said, with an ominous shake of the head. "'I thought as much myself, Mr. Muir, and brought away the little flag lest it might be the means of betraying our presence here to the enemy, even though nothing is intended by its display. "'Aught not, my uncle, to be made acquainted with the circumstance?' "'And you'll see the necessity for that, pretty Mabel, for as you justly say, it is a circumstance, and circumstances sometimes worry the worthy mariner. But this flag, if flagger can be called, belongs to a seamen's craft. You may perceive that it is made of what is called bunting, and that is a description of cloth used only by vessels for such purposes, our colors being of silk, as you may understand, or painted canvas. It's surprisingly like the fly of the scud's ensign. And now I recollect me to have observed that a piece had been cut from that very flag.' Mabel felt her heart sink, but she had sufficient self-command not to attempt an answer. "'It must be looked to,' Muir continued. "'And, after all, I think it may be well to hold a short consultation with Master Cap, than whom a more loyal subject does not exist in the British Empire. "'I have thought the warning so serious,' Mabel rejoined, "'that I am about to remove to the blockhouse and to take the woman with me. "'I do not see the prudence of that, Mabel. The blockhouse will be the first spot of sale, should there really be an attack, and it's not well provided for a siege. That must be allowed. If I might advise in so delicate a contingency, I would recommend your taking refuge in the boat, which, as you may now perceive, is most favorably placed to retreat by that channel opposite, where all in it would be hid by the islands in one or two minutes. Water leaves no trail, as Pathfinder Well expresses it, and there appears to be so many different passages in that quarter that escape would be more than probable. "'I've always been of opinion that Lundy hazarded too much in occupying a post so far advanced and so much exposed as this. "'It's too late to regret it now, Mr. Muir, and we have only to consult our own security.' "'I'm the king's honor, pretty Mabel. Yes, his Majesty's arms, and his glorious name, are not to be overlooked on any occasion.' "'Then I think it might be better if we all turned our eyes towards the place that has been built to maintain them instead of the boat,' said Mabel, smiling. "'And so, Mr. Muir, I am for the blockhouse, intending to await there the return of my father and his party. He would be sadly grieved at finding we had fled when he got back successful himself, and filled with the confidence of our having been as faithful to our duties as he has been to his own.' "'Nay, nay, for heaven's sake, to not misunderstand me, Mabel,' Muir interrupted with some alarm of matter. "'I am far from intimating that any but you females ought to take refuge in the boat. The duty of us men is sufficiently plain, no doubt, and my resolution has been formed from the first, to stand or fall by the blockhouse.' "'And did you imagine, Mr. Muir, that two females could row that heavy boat in a way to escape the bark canoe of an Indian?' "'Ah, pretty Mabel, love is seldom logical, and its fears and misgivings are apt to warp the faculties. I only saw your sweet person in the possession of the means of safety and overlooked the want of ability to use them. But you'll not be so cruel, lovely creature, as to impute to me as a fault, my intense anxiety on your own account.' Mabel had heard enough. Her mind was too much occupied with what had passed that morning, and with her fears, to wish to linger longer, to listen to love speeches, which in her most joyous and buoyant moments she would have found unpleasant. She took a hasty leave of her companion, and was about to trip away towards the hut of the other woman when Muir arrested the movement by laying a hand on her arm. "'One word, Mabel,' said he, "'before you leave me. This little flag may, or it may not, have a particular meaning. If it has, now we are all aware of its being shown. May it not be better to put it back again, while we watch vigilantly for some answer that may betray the conspiracy? And if it means nothing, why nothing will follow?' This may be all right, Mr. Muir, though if the hole is accidental, the flag might be the occasion of the forts being discovered. Mabel stayed to utter no more, but she was soon out of sight, running into the hut towards which she had been first proceeding. The quartermaster remained on the very spot, and in the precise attitude in which she had left him for quite a minute, first looking at the bounding figure of the girl, and then at the bit of bunting, which he still held before him in a way to denote indecision. His irresolution lasted but for this minute, however, for he was soon beneath the tree, where he fastened the mimic flag to a branch again, though from his ignorance of the precise spot from which it had been taken by Mabel he left it fluttering from a part of the oak where it was still more exposed than before to the eyes of any passenger on the river, though less in view from the island itself. CHAPTER XXI Each one has had his supping mess. The cheese is put into the press. The pans and bowls, clean-scalded all, reared up against the milk-house wall. Attributed to Cotton. It seems strange to Mabel Dunham, as she passed along on her way to find her female companion, that others should be so composed while she herself felt as if the responsibilities of life and death rested on her shoulders. It is true that distrust of June's motives mingled with her forebodings, but when she came to recall the affectionate and natural manner of the young Indian girl, and all the evidences of good faith and sincerity she had seen in her conduct during the familiar intercourse of their journey, she rejected the idea with the unwillingness of a generous disposition to believe ill of others. She saw, however, that she could not put her companions properly on their guard without letting them into the secret of her conference with June, and she found herself compelled to act cautiously and with a forethought to which she was unaccustomed, more especially in a matter of so much moment. The soldier's wife was told to transport the necessaries into the blockhouse, and it monished not to be far from it at any time during the day. Mabel did not explain her reasons. She merely stated that she had detected some signs in walking about the island which induced her to apprehend that the enemy had more knowledge of its position than had been previously believed, and that they, too, at least, would do well to be in readiness to seek a refuge at the shortest notice. It was not difficult to arouse the apprehension of this person, who, though a stout-hearted scotch woman, was ready enough to listen to anything that confirmed her dread of Indian cruelties. As soon as Mabel believed that her companion was sufficiently frightened to make her wary, she threw out some hints touching the inexpediency of letting the soldiers know the extent of their own fears. This was done with a view to prevent discussions and inquiries that might embarrass our heroine. She determined to render her uncle, the corporal, and his men more cautious by adopting a different course. Unfortunately the British army could not have furnished a worse person for the particular duty that he was now required to discharge than Corporal McNabb, the individual who had been left in command during the absence of Sergeant Dunham. On the one hand he was resolute, prompt, familiar with all the details of a soldier's life, and used to war. On the other he was supercilious as regards the provincial's, opinionated on every subject connected with the narrow limits of his professional practice, much disposed to fancy the British empire the center of all that is excellent in the world, and Scotland the focus of, at least, all moral excellence in that empire. In short he was an epitome, though on a scale suited to his rank, of those very qualities which were so peculiar to the servants of the crown that were sent into the colonies, as these servants estimated themselves in comparison with the natives of the country. Or, in other words, he considered the American as an animal inferior to the parent's stock, and viewed all his notions of military service in particular as undigested and absurd. A more impracticable subject, therefore, could not well have offered for the purpose of Mabel, and yet she felt obliged to lose no time in putting her plan in execution. My father has left you a responsible command, Corporal, she said, as soon as she could catch McNab a little apart. For should the island fall into the hands of the enemy, not only should we be captured, but the party that is now outward in all probability become their prisoners, too. It means no journey from Scotland to this place to know the facts needful to be of that way of thinking, returned McNab dryly. I do not doubt your understanding it as well as myself, Mr. McNab, but I am fearful that you veterans, accustomed as you are to dangers and battles, are a little apt to overlook some of the precautions that may be necessary in a situation as peculiar as ours. They say Scotland is no conquered country, young woman, but I am thinking there must be some mistake in the matter, as way her children are so drowsy-headed and apt to be overtaken when we least expect it. Nay, my good friend, you mistake my meaning. In the first place I am not thinking of Scotland at all, but of this island, and then I am far from doubting your vigilance when you think it necessary to practice it, but my great fear is that there may be danger to which your courage will make you indifferent. My courage, Mr. Stunham, is doubtless of a very poor quality, though nothing but Scottish courage. Your father's is Yankee, and were he here among us we should see different preparations beyond the doubt. Well, times are getting wrong, when foreigners hold commissions and carry halberds in Scottish cores, and I no wonder that paddles are lost and campaigns go wrong and foremost. Mabel was almost in despair, but the quiet warning of June was still too vividly impressed on her mind to allow her to yield the matter. She changed her mode of operating, therefore, still clinging to the hope of getting the whole party within the blockhouse, without being compelled to betray the source when she obtained her notices of the necessity of vigilance. I daresay you are right, Corporal McNabb, she observed, for I've often heard of the heroes of your country who have been among the first of the civilized world if what they tell me of them is true. Have you read the history of Scotland, Mr. Stunham? Demanded the corporal, looking up at his pretty companion for the first time with something like a smile on his hard, repulsive countenance. I have read little of it, Corporal, but I've heard much more. The lady who brought me up had Scottish blood in her veins, and was fond of the subject. I'll warrant you, the sergeant, nor troubled himself to expatiate on the renown of the country where his regiment was raised. My father has other things to think of, and the little I know was got from the lady I've mentioned. She'll not be forgetting to tell you a wallace. Of him I've even read a good deal. And a bruce? And of the affair of Bannackborn? Of that, too, as well as Culloden Muir. The last of these battles was then a recent event, it having actually been fought within the recollection of our heroine, whose notions of it, however, were so confused that she scarcely appreciated the effect her illusion might produce on her companion. She knew it had been a victory, and had often heard the guests of her patroness mention it with triumph, and she fancied their feelings would find a sympathetic chord in those of every British soldier. Unfortunately, MacDabb had fought throughout that luckless day on the side of the pretender, and a deep scar that garnished his face had been left there by the sabre of a German soldier in the service of the house of Hanover. He fancied that his wound bled afresh at Mabel's illusion, and it is certain that the blood rushed to his face in a torrent as if it would pour out of his skin at the sycotricks. HOOT! HOOT AWAY! he fairly shouted, with your Culloden and Sheriff Muir's young woman, you'll not be understanding the subject at all, and will manifest not only wisdom but modesty in speaking of your own country and its many failings. King George has some loyal subjects in the colonies, no doubt, but will be a long time before he sees or hears any good of them. Mabel was surprised at the corporal's heat, for she had not the smallest idea where the shoe pinched, but she was determined not to give up the point. I've always heard that the Scotch had two of the good qualities of soldiers, she said, courage and circumspection, and I feel persuaded that Corporal McNabb will sustain the national renown. Ask your own father, Mistress Dunham. He is acquainted with Corporal McNabb, and will not be backward to point out his demerits. We have been in battle together, and he is my superior officer, and has a sort of official right to give the characters of his subordinates. My father thinks well of you, McNabb, or he would not have left you in charge of this island and all it contains, his own daughter included. Among other things I well know that he calculates largely on your prudence. He expects the blockhouse in particular to be strictly attended to. If he wishes to defend the honor of the Fifty-Fifth behind logs, he ought to have remained in command himself. For to speak frankly, it goes against the Scotchman's blood and opinions to be beaten out of the field even before he is attacked. We are a broadsword men, and love to stand foot to foot with a foe. This American mode of fighting that is getting into so much favor will destroy the reputation of his majesty's army if it not destroy its spirit. No true soldier despises caution. Even Major Duncan himself, than whom there is none braver, is celebrated for his care of his men. Lundy has his weakness, and is fast for getting the broadsword and open heaths in his tree and rifle practice. But Mr. Stunham, take the word of an old soldier who was seen in his Fifty-Fifth year, when he tells you that there is no sure method to encourage your enemy than to seem to fear him, and that there is no danger in this Indian warfare that the fancies and imaginations of your Americans have not enlarged upon until they see a savage in every bush. We Scots come from a naked region, have no need, and less relish for covers. And so you'll be seeing, Mr. Stunham. The corporal gave a spring into the air, fell forward on his face, and rolled over on his back, the whole passing so suddenly that Mabel had scarcely heard the sharp crack of the rifle that sent a bullet through his body. Our heroine did not shriek, did not even tremble, for the occurrence was too sudden, too awful, and too unexpected for that exhibition of weakness. On the contrary, she stepped hastily forward with a natural impulse to aid her companion. There was just enough of life left to McNabb to betray his entire consciousness of all that had passed. His countenance had the wild look of one who had been overtaken by death by surprise, and Mabel, in her cooler moments, fancied that it showed the tardy repentance of a willful and obstinate sinner. You'll be getting into the blockhouse as fast as possible," McNabb whispered, as Mabel leaned over him to catch his dying words. Then came over our heroine the full consciousness of her situation, and of the necessity of exertion. She cast a rapid glance at the body at her feet, saw that it had ceased to breathe, and fled. It was but a few minutes run to the blockhouse, the door of which Mabel had barely gained when it was closed violently in her face by Jenny, the soldier's wife, who had blind terror thought only of her own safety. The reports of five or six rifles were heard while Mabel was calling out for admittance, and the additional terror they produced prevented the woman within from undoing quickly the very fastenings she had been so expert in applying. After a minute's delay, however, Mabel found the door reluctantly yielding to her constant pressure, and she forced her slender body through the opening the instant it was large enough to allow of its passage. By this time Mabel's heart ceased to beat tumultuously, and she gained sufficient self-command to act collectively. Instead of yielding to the almost convulsive efforts of her companion to close the door again, she held it open long enough to ascertain that none of her own party was in sight, or likely on the instant to endeavor to gain admission. Then she allowed the opening to be shut. Her orders and proceedings now became more calm and rational. But a single bar was crossed, and Jenny was directed to stand in readiness to remove even that and any application from a friend. She then ascended the ladder to the room above, whereby means of a loophole she was unable to get as good a view of the island as the surrounding bushes would allow. Admonishing her associate below to be firm and steady, she made as careful in an examination of the environs as her situation permitted. To her great surprise Mabel could not at first see a living soul on the island, friend or enemy. Neither Frenchman nor Indian was visible, though a small, straggling white cloud that was floating before the wind told her in which quarter she ought to look for them. The rifles had been discharged from the direction of the island whence June had come, though whether the enemy were on that island or had actually landed on her own Mabel could not say. Going to the loop that commanded a view of the spot where McNablae, her blood curdled at perceiving all three of his soldiers lying apparently lifeless at his side. These men had rushed to a common center at the first alarm, and had been shot down almost simultaneously by the invisible foe whom the corporal had affected to despise. Neither Cap nor Lieutenant Muir was to be seen. With a beating heart Mabel examined every opening through the trees and ascended even to the upper story or garret of the blockhouse where she got a full view of the whole island so far as its covers would allow, but with no better success. She had expected to see the body of her uncle lying on the grass like those of the soldiers, but it was nowhere visible. Turning towards the spot where the boat lay, Mabel saw that it was still fastened to the shore, and then she supposed that by some accident Muir had been prevented from affecting his retreat in that quarter. In short, the island lay in the quiet of the grave, the bodies of the soldiers rendering the scene as fearful as it was extraordinary. For God's holy sake, Mistress Mabel, called out the woman from below, for though her fear had become too ungovernable to allow her to keep silence, our heroine's superior refinement, more than the regimental station of her father, still controlled her mode of address. Mistress Mabel, tell me if any of our friends are living. I think I hear groans that grow fater in fater, and fear they will all be tomahawked. Mabel now remembered that one of the soldiers was this woman's husband, and she trembled at what must be the immediate effect of her sorrow should his death become suddenly known to her. The groans, too, gave a little hope, though she feared they might come from her uncle, who lay out of view. We are in his holy keeping, Jenny, she answered. We must trust in providence, while we neglect none of its benevolent means of protecting ourselves. Be careful with the door, on no account open it without my directions. Oh, tell me, Mistress Mabel, if you can anywhere see Sandy. If I could only let him know that I am in safety, the good man would be easier in his mind, whether free or a prisoner. Sandy was Jenny's husband, and he lay dead in plain view of the loop from which our heroine was then looking. You know tell me if you're seeing a Sandy! The woman repeated from below, impatient at Mabel's silence. There are some of our people gathered about the body of McNab. Was the answer, for it seemed sacrilegious in her eyes to tell a direct untruth under the awful circumstances in which she was placed. Is Sandy among them? demanded the woman, in a voice that sounded appalling by its hoarseness and energy. He may be certainly, for I see, one, two, three, four, and all in the scarlet coats of the regiment. Sandy! called out the woman frantically, why do you not care for yourself, Sandy? Come here to the instant man, and share your wise fortunes in wheel or woe. It's not a moment for your silly discipline and vain glorious notions of honor. Sandy! Sandy! Mabel heard the bar turn, and then the door creaked on its hinges. Expectation, not to say terror, held her in suspense at the loop, and she soon beheld Jenny rushing through the bushes in the direction of the cluster of the dead. It took the woman but an instant to reach the fatal spot. So sudden and unexpected had been the blow that she and her terror did not appear to comprehend its weight. Some wild and half-frantic notion of a deception troubled her fancy, and she imagined that the men were trifling with her fears. She took her husband's hand, and it was still warm, while she thought a covert smile was struggling on his lip. Why will you fool life away, Sandy? She cried, pulling at the arm. You'll all be murdered by these accursed Indians, and you're not taken to the block like trusty soldiers. Away! Away! And not be loosed in the precious moments! In her desperate efforts the woman pulled the body of her husband in a way to cause the head to turn completely over, when the small hole in the temple, caused by the entrance of our rifle-bullet, and a few drops of blood trickling over the skin, revealed the meaning of her husband's silence. As the horrid truth flashed in its full extent on her mind, the woman clasped her hands, gave a shriek that pierced the glades of every island near, and fell at length on the dead body of the soldier. Thrilling, heart-reaching, appalling as was that shriek, it was melody to the cry that followed it so quickly as to blend the sounds. The terrific war-whoop arose out of the covers of the island, and some twenty savages, horrible in their paint and the other devices of Indian ingenuity, rushed forward, eager to secure the coveted scalps. Arrowhead was foremost, and it was his tomahawk that brained the insensible Jenny, and her reeking hair was hanging at his girdle as a trophy in less than two minutes after she had quitted the blockhouse. His companions were equally active, and McNab and his soldiers no longer presented the quiet aspect of men who slumbered. They were left in their gore, unequivocably butchered corpses. All this passed in much less time than has been required to relate it, and all this did Mabel witness. She had stood riveted to the spot, gazing on the whole horrible scene, as if enchained by some charm, nor did the idea of self or of her own danger once obtrude itself on her thoughts. But no sooner did she perceive the place where the men had fallen, covered with savages, exalting in the success of their surprise, than it occurred to her that Jenny had left the blockhouse door unbarred. Her heart beat violently, for that defense alone stood between her and an immediate death, and she sprang toward the ladder with the intention of descending, to make sure of it. Her foot had not yet reached the floor of the second story, however, when she heard the door grating on its hinges, and she gave herself up for lost. Sinking on her knees the terrified but courageous girl endeavored to prepare herself for death, and to raise her thoughts to God. The instinct of life, however, was too strong for prayer, and while her lips moved, the jealous senses watched every sound beneath. When her ears heard the bars, which went on pivots secured to the center of the door, turning into their fastenings, not one, as she herself had directed, with a view to admit her uncle should he apply, but all three. She started again to her feet, all spiritual contemplations vanishing in her actual temporal condition, and it seemed as if all her faculties were absorbed in the sense of hearing. The thoughts are active in a moment so fearful. At first Mabel fancied that her uncle had entered the blockhouse, and she was about to descend the ladder and throw herself into his arms. Then the idea that it might be an Indian who had barred the door to shut out intruders while he plundered at leisure, arrested the movement. The profound stillness below was unlike the bold, restless movements of cap, and seemed to savor more of the artifices of an enemy. If a friend at all it could only be her uncle or the quartermaster, for the horrible conviction now presented itself to our heroine that to these two and herself were the whole party suddenly reduced, if indeed the two ladder survived. This consideration helped Mabel in check, and for full two minutes more a breathless silence reigned in the building. During this time the girl stood at the foot of the upper ladder, the trap which led to the lower opening on the opposite side of the floor, the eyes of Mabel were riveted on this spot, for she now began to expect to see at each instant the horrible sight of a savage face at the hole. This apprehension soon became so intense that she looked about her for a place of concealment. The procrastination of the catastrophe she now fully expected. The procrastination of the catastrophe she now fully expected, though it were only for a moment, afforded a relief. The room contained several barrels, and behind two of these Mabel crouched, placing her eyes at an opening by which she could still watch the trap. She made another effort to pray. But the moment was too horrible for that relief. She thought too that she heard a low rustling, as if one were ascending the lower ladder with an effort it cautioned so great as to betray itself by its own excess. Then followed a creaking that, if she was certain, came from one of the steps of the ladder, which had made the same noise under her own lightweight as she ascended. This was one of those incidents into which are compressed the sensations of years of ordinary existence. Life, death, eternity, and extreme bodily pain were all standing out in bold relief from the plane of everyday occurrences, and she might have been taken at that moment for a beautiful pallid representation of herself, equally without motion and without vitality. But while such was the outward appearance of the form, never had there been a time in her brief career when Mabel heard more acutely, saw more clearly, or felt more vividly. As yet nothing was visible at the trap, but her ears, rendered exquisitely sensitive by intense feeling, distinctly acquainted her that someone was within a few inches of the opening in the floor. Next followed the evidence of her eyes, which beheld the dark hair of an Indian rising so slowly through the passage that the movements of the head might be likened to that of the minute hand of a clock. Everything came the dark skin and wild features, until the whole of the swarthy face had risen above the floor. The human countenance seldom appears to advantage when partially concealed, and Mabel imagined many additional horrors as she first saw the black roving eyes, and the expression of wildness as the savage countenance was revealed, as it might be, inch by inch. But when the entire head was raised above the floor, a second and a better look assured our heroine that she saw the gentle, anxious, and even handsome face of June.