rendered the scattering fire of
their enemies perfectly harmless. The unwonted cry had brought the
sisters, together with the wounded David, from their place of refuge;
and the whole party, at a single glance, was made acquainted with the
nature of the disaster that had disturbed even the practised stoicism of
their youthful Indian protector.

At a short distance from the rock, their little bark was to be seen
floating across the eddy, towards the swift current of the river, in a
manner which proved that its course was directed by some hidden agent.
The instant this unwelcome sight caught the eye of the scout, his rifle
was levelled as by instinct, but the barrel gave no answer to the bright
sparks of the flint.

"'Tis too late, 'tis too late!" Hawkeye exclaimed, dropping the useless
piece in bitter disappointment; "the miscreant has struck the rapid; and
had we powder, it could hardly send the lead swifter than he now goes!"

The adventurous Huron raised his head above the shelter of the canoe,
and while it glided swiftly down the stream, he waved his hand, and gave
forth the shout, which was the known signal of success. His cry was
answered by a yell and a laugh from the woods, as tauntingly exulting as
if fifty demons were uttering their blasphemies at the fall of some
Christian soul.

"Well may you laugh, ye children of the devil!" said the scout, seating
himself on a projection of the rock, and suffering his gun to fall
neglected at his feet, "for the three quickest and surest rifles in
these woods are no better than so many stalks of mullein, or the last
year's horns of a buck!"

"What is to be done?" demanded Duncan, losing the first feeling of
disappointment in a more manly desire for exertion; "what will become of
us?"

Hawkeye made no other reply than by passing his finger around the crown
of his head, in a manner so significant, that none who witnessed the
action could mistake its meaning.

"Surely, surely, our case is not so desperate!" exclaimed the youth;
"the Hurons are not here; we may make good the caverns; we may oppose
their landing."

"With what?" coolly demanded the scout. "The arrows of Uncas, or such
tears as women shed! No, no; you are young, and rich, and have friends,
and at such an age I know it is hard to die! But," glancing his eyes at
the Mohicans, "let us remember we are men without a cross, and let us
teach these natives of the forest that white blood can run as freely as
red,