r singing. Can he slay a buck for
their dinner; journey by the moss on the beeches, or cut the throat of a
Huron? If not, the first catbird[22] he meets is the cleverest of the
two. Well, boy, any signs of such a foundation?"

"Here is something like the footstep of one who has worn a shoe; can it
be that of our friend?"

"Touch the leaves lightly, or you'll disconsart the formation. That!
that is the print of a foot, but 'tis the dark-hair's; and small it is,
too, for one of such a noble height and grand appearance. The singer
would cover it with his heel."

"Where! let me look on the footsteps of my child," said Munro, shoving
the bushes aside, and bending fondly over the nearly obliterated
impression. Though the tread, which had left the mark, had been light
and rapid, it was still plainly visible. The aged soldier examined it
with eyes that grew dim as he gazed; nor did he rise from his stooping
posture until Heyward saw that he had watered the trace of his
daughter's passage with a scalding tear. Willing to divert a distress
which threatened each moment to break through the restraint of
appearances, by giving the veteran something to do, the young man said
to the scout,--

"As we now possess these infallible signs, let us commence our march. A
moment, at such a time, will appear an age to the captives."

"It is not the swiftest leaping deer that gives the longest chase,"
returned Hawkeye, without moving his eyes from the different marks that
had come under his view; "we know that the rampaging Huron has
passed,--and the dark hair,--and the singer,--but where is she of the
yellow locks and blue eyes? Though little, and far from being as bold as
her sister, she is fair to the view, and pleasant in discourse. Has she
no friend, that none care for her?"

"God forbid she should ever want hundreds! Are we not now in her
pursuit? for one, I will never cease the search till she be found."

"In that case we may have to journey by different paths; for here she
has not passed, light and little as her footstep would be."

Heyward drew back, all his ardor to proceed seeming to vanish on the
instant. Without attending to this sudden change in the other's humor,
the scout, after musing a moment, continued,--

"There is no woman in this wilderness could leave such a print as that,
but the dark-hair or her sister. We know that the first has been here,
but where are the signs of the other? Let us push deeper on the trail,