the simple-minded girl, positively. "You'll see, sister; you'll see, how
soon it will bring him to, like a gentle child!"

"Will you tell me, Hetty, what you intend to say?" asked Deerslayer. "I
know the savages well, and can form some idee how far fair words will be
likely, or not, to work on their bloody natur's. If it's not suited to
the gifts of a red-skin, 'twill be of no use; for reason goes by gifts,
as well as conduct."

"Well, then," answered Hetty, dropping her voice to a low, confidential,
tone, for the stillness of the night, and the nearness of the Ark,
permitted her to do this and still to be heard--"Well, then, Deerslayer,
as you seem a good and honest young man I will tell you. I mean not to
say a word to any of the savages until I get face to face with their
head chief, let them plague me with as many questions as they please
I'll answer none of them, unless it be to tell them to lead me to their
wisest man--Then, Deerslayer, I'll tell him that God will not forgive
murder, and thefts; and that if father and Hurry did go after the
scalps of the Iroquois, he must return good for evil, for so the Bible
commands, else he will go into everlasting punishment. When he hears
this, and feels it to be true, as feel it he must, how long will it be
before he sends father, and Hurry, and me to the shore, opposite the
castle, telling us all three to go our way in peace?"

The last question was put in a triumphant manner, and then the
simple-minded girl laughed at the impression she never doubted that her
project had made on her auditors. Deerslayer was dumb-founded at this
proof of guileless feebleness of mind, but Judith had suddenly bethought
her of a means of counteracting this wild project, by acting on the
very feelings that had given it birth. Without adverting to the closing
question, or the laugh, therefore, she hurriedly called to her sister by
name, as one suddenly impressed with the importance of what she had to
say. But no answer was given to the call.

By the snapping of twigs, and the rustling of leaves, Hetty had
evidently quitted the shore, and was already burying herself in the
forest. To follow would have been fruitless, since the darkness, as
well as the dense cover that the woods everywhere offered, would have
rendered her capture next to impossible, and there was also the never
ceasing danger of falling into the hands of their enemies. After a short
and melancholy discussion, therefore, the