The uncle had placed his two hands to his mouth to form a trumpet,
and was about to give the promised hail, when a rapid movement
from the hand of Arrowhead defeated the intention by deranging the
instrument.

"Red man, Mohican," said the Tuscarora; "good; pale-faces, Yengeese."

"These are heavenly tidings," murmured Mabel, who little relished
the prospect of a deadly fray in that remote wilderness. "Let us
approach at once, dear uncle, and proclaim ourselves friends."

"Good," said the Tuscarora "red man cool, and know; pale-face
hurried, and fire. Let the squaw go."

"What!" said Cap in astonishment; "send little Magnet ahead as
a lookout, while two lubbers, like you and me, lie-to to
see what sort of a landfall she will make! If I do, I -- "

"It is wisest, uncle," interrupted the generous girl, "and I have
no fear. No Christian, seeing a woman approach alone, would fire
upon her; and my presence will be a pledge of peace. Let me go
forward, as Arrowhead wishes, and all will be well. We are, as
yet, unseen, and the surprise of the strangers will not partake of
alarm."

"Good," returned Arrowhead, who did not conceal his approbation of
Mabel's spirit.

"It has an unseaman-like look," answered Cap; "but, being
in the woods, no one will know it. If you think, Mabel -- "