stand so near, with manifest signs of bloodshed in his heart."

"See!" interrupted Jasper -- "there is the body of the Indian the
Delaware shot! It has drifted on a rock, and the current has forced
the head and face above the water."

"Quite likely, boy, quite likely. Human natur' is little better
than a log of driftwood, when the life that was breathed into its
nostrils is departed. That Iroquois will never harm any one more;
but yonder skulking savage is bent on taking the scalp of my best
and most tried friend."

The Pathfinder suddenly interrupted himself by raising his rifle,
a weapon of unusual length, with admirable precision, and firing
the instant it had got its level. The Iroquois on the opposite
shore was in the act of aiming when the fatal messenger from Killdeer
arrived. His rifle was discharged, it is true, but it was with the
muzzle in the air, while the man himself plunged into the bushes,
quite evidently hurt, if not slain.

"The skulking reptyle brought it on himself," muttered Pathfinder
sternly, as, dropping the butt of his rifle, he carefully commenced
reloading it. "Chingachgook and I have consorted together since
we were boys, and have fi't in company on the Horican, the Mohawk,
the Ontario, and all the other bloody passes between the country of
the Frenchers and our own; and did the foolish knave believe that
I would stand by and see my best friend cut off in an ambushment?"

"We have served the Sarpent as good a turn as he served us. Those
rascals are troubled, Pathfinder, and are falling back into their