friend--
the friend whose life was now ebbing away as a sacrifice for his own.
Yes! the shaft that had pierced through the neck of Fingal was designed
for Rodolph's breast; and he who cast it deemed that it had found its
intended mark, when, through the bushes, he saw the white man's form
bend quickly and suddenly to the ground. Then Coubitant fled
exultingly, and his savage heart beat high with joy and triumph.

But Rodolph thought not of him, or of his malice. He only saw his
faithful dog expiring at his side, and knew that he had no power to aid
him. It was evident that the arrow was poisoned, for the wound,
otherwise, appeared too slight to be mortal; and the foam that gathered
on Fingal's jaws, and the convulsive struggle that shook his form,
showed too plainly that his sufferings would soon be over. The
companions of Rodolph urged him to join them in instant flight; for
they felt the peril of their present situation, where the surrounding
thicket gave such ample opportunity to their lurking foes to take a
deadly aim, while, at the same time, it prevented them from either
discovering or pursuing their assailants. But all their arguments, and
all their entreaties, were unavailing so long as Fingal continued to
lick his master's caressing hand, and to reply to his well-known voice,
by looks of intelligent affection.

Soon, however, his head sank powerless on Rodolph's knee, and the
bright glance of his eye faded away, and life and motion ceased. Was it
unmanly in his master to brush a tear from his eye, as he rose from the
ground, and turned away one moment from the lifeless form of his
favorite?

'I will not leave him here,' he said. 'The savages shall not mangle his
body, as they would gladly have mangled mine. His death has saved my
life; and all that remains of him shall be carried to a place of
safety, and buried beyond the reach of those who slew him.'

'Yes,' replied Squanto readily--for he desired the removal of the dog
from that spot, for other reasons beside the gratification of
Maitland's feelings--' Yes; we will carry him away, and hide him from
Coubitant's eyes. Doubtless he will return here, as soon as all is
quiet, to see the success of his murderous attempt; and when he finds
the path thus stained with blood, he will be satisfied, and pursue us
no further than to see whether we bury our dead companion in the
forest, or bear him to his home. We must, therefore, carry Fingal all
the way to New Plym