m 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 ho