tion and the chase."

Duncan, who was now made to understand the nature of the noises he had
heard, answered with more attention to the subject which the humor of
the scout had chosen for discussion, by saying,--

"It is difficult to account for the feelings that may attend the last
great change."

"It would be a change, indeed, for a man who has passed his days in the
open air," returned the single-minded scout; "and who has so often
broken his fast on the head-waters of the Hudson, to sleep within sound
of the roaring Mohawk. But it is a comfort to know we serve a merciful
Master, though we do it each after his fashion, and with great tracts of
wilderness atween us--what goes there?"

"Is it not the rushing of the wolves you have mentioned?"

Hawkeye slowly shook his head, and beckoned for Duncan to follow him to
a spot, to which the glare from the fire did not extend. When he had
taken this precaution, the scout placed himself in an attitude of
intense attention, and listened long and keenly for a repetition of the
low sound that had so unexpectedly startled him. His vigilance, however,
seemed exercised in vain; for, after a fruitless pause, he whispered to
Duncan,--

"We must give a call to Uncas. The boy has Indian senses, and may hear
what is hid from us; for being a white-skin, I will not deny my nature."

The young Mohican, who was conversing in a low voice with his father,
started as he heard the moaning of an owl, and springing on his feet he
looked towards the black mounds, as if seeking the place whence the
sounds proceeded. The scout repeated the call, and in a few moments,
Duncan saw the figure of Uncas stealing cautiously along the rampart, to
the spot where they stood.

Hawkeye explained his wishes in a very few words, which were spoken in
the Delaware tongue. So soon as Uncas was in possession of the reason
why he was summoned, he threw himself flat on the turf; where, to the
eyes of Duncan, he appeared to lie quiet and motionless. Surprised at
the immovable attitude of the young warrior, and curious to observe the
manner in which he employed his faculties to obtain the desired
information, Heyward advanced a few steps, and bent over the dark
object, on which he had kept his eyes riveted. Then it was he discovered
that the form of Uncas had vanished, and that he beheld only the dark
outline of an inequality in the embankment.

"What has become of the Mohican?" he demanded of the scout, steppin