his memory, he
felt a difficulty in persuading himself of their truth. Still ignorant
of the fate of those who had trusted to the aid of the swift current, he
at first listened intently to any signal, or sounds of alarm, which
might announce the good or evil fortune of their hazardous undertaking.
His attention was, however, bestowed in vain; for, with the
disappearance of Uncas, every sign of the adventurers had been lost,
leaving him in total uncertainty of their fate.

In a moment of such painful doubt, Duncan did not hesitate to look about
him, without consulting that protection from the rocks which just before
had been so necessary to his safety. Every effort, however, to detect
the least evidence of the approach of their hidden enemies, was as
fruitless as the inquiry after his late companions. The wooded banks of
the rivers seemed again deserted by everything possessing animal life.
The uproar which had so lately echoed through the vaults of the forest
was gone, leaving the rush of the waters to swell and sink on the
currents of the air, in the unmingled sweetness of nature. A fish-hawk,
which, secure on the topmost branches of a dead pine, had been a distant
spectator of the fray, now stooped from his high and ragged perch, and
soared, in wide sweeps, above his prey; while a jay, whose noisy voice
had been stilled by the hoarser cries of the savages, ventured again to
open his discordant throat, as though once more in undisturbed
possession of his wild domains. Duncan caught from these natural
accompaniments of the solitary scene a glimmering of hope; and he began
to rally his faculties to renewed exertions, with something like a
reviving confidence of success.

"The Hurons are not to be seen," he said, addressing David, who had by
no means recovered from the effects of the stunning blow he had
received; "let us conceal ourselves in the cavern, and trust the rest to
Providence."

"I remember to have united with two comely maidens, in lifting up our
voices in praise and thanksgiving," returned the bewildered
singing-master; "since which time I have been visited by a heavy
judgment for my sins. I have been mocked with the likeness of sleep,
while sounds of discord have rent my ears, such as might manifest the
fulness of time, and that nature had forgotten her harmony."

"Poor fellow! thine own period was, in truth, near its accomplishment!
But arouse, and come with me; I will lead you where all other sounds b