e contemplated. It is a different matter with a few
warriors in open and rugged fight, for 'tis their gift to die with the
rifle or the tomahawk in hand; according as their natures may happen to
be, white or red. Uncas, come this way, lad, and let the ravens settle
upon the Mingo. I know, from often seeing it, that they have a craving
for the flesh of an Oneida; and it is as well to let the bird follow the
gift of its natural appetite."

"Hugh!" exclaimed the young Mohican, rising on the extremities of his
feet, and gazing intently in his front, frightening the raven to some
other prey, by the sound and the action.

"What is it, boy?" whispered the scout, lowering his tall form into a
crouching attitude, like a panther about to take his leap; "God send it
be a tardy Frencher, skulking for plunder. I do believe 'Killdeer' would
take an oncommon range to-day!"

Uncas, without making any reply, bounded away from the spot, and in the
next instant he was seen tearing from a bush, and waving in triumph a
fragment of the green riding-veil of Cora. The movement, the exhibition,
and the cry, which again burst from the lips of the young Mohican,
instantly drew the whole party about him.

"My child!" said Munro, speaking quick and wildly "give me my child!"

"Uncas will try," was the short and touching answer.

The simple but meaning assurance was lost on the father, who seized the
piece of gauze, and crushed it in his hand, while his eyes roamed
fearfully among the bushes, as if he equally dreaded and hoped for the
secrets they might reveal.

"Here are no dead," said Heyward; "the storm seems not to have passed
this way."

"That's manifest; and clearer than the heavens above our heads,"
returned the undisturbed scout; "but either she, or they that have
robbed her, have passed the bush; for I remember the rag she wore to
hide a face that all did love to look upon. Uncas, you are right; the
dark-hair has been here, and she has fled like a frightened fawn, to the
wood; none who could fly would remain to be murdered. Let us search for
the marks she left; for to Indian eyes, I sometimes think even a
humming-bird leaves his trail in the air."

The young Mohican darted away at the suggestion, and the scout had
hardly done speaking, before the former raised a cry of success from the
margin of the forest. On reaching the spot, the anxious party perceived
another portion of the veil fluttering on the lower branch of a beech.

"