mn feelings over the mind," returned the scout, a good
deal touched at the calm suffering of his companion; "and they often aid
a man in his good intentions; though, for myself, I expect to leave my
own bones unburied, to bleach in the woods, or to be torn asunder by the
wolves. But where are to be found those of your race who came to their
kin in the Delaware country, so many summers since?"

"Where are the blossoms of those summers!--fallen, one by one: so all of
my family departed, each in his turn, to the land of spirits. I am on
the hill-top, and must go down into the valley; and when Uncas follows
in my footsteps, there will no longer be any of the blood of the
sagamores, for my boy is the last of the Mohicans."

"Uncas is here!" said another voice, in the same soft, guttural tones,
near his elbow; "who speaks to Uncas?"

The white man loosened his knife in his leathern sheath, and made an
involuntary movement of the hand towards his rifle, at this sudden
interruption; but the Indian sat composed, and without turning his head
at the unexpected sounds.

At the next instant, a youthful warrior passed between them, with a
noiseless step, and seated himself on the bank of the rapid stream. No
exclamation of surprise escaped the father, nor was any question asked,
or reply given, for several minutes; each appearing to await the moment
when he might speak, without betraying womanish curiosity or childish
impatience. The white man seemed to take counsel from their customs,
and, relinquishing his grasp of the rifle, he also remained silent and
reserved. At length Chingachgook turned his eyes slowly towards his son,
and demanded,--

"Do the Maquas dare to leave the print of their moccasins in these
woods?"

"I have been on their trail," replied the young Indian, "and know that
they number as many as the fingers of my two hands; but they lie hid,
like cowards."

"The thieves are outlying for scalps and plunder!" said the white man,
whom we shall call Hawkeye, after the manner of his companions. "That
bushy Frenchman, Montcalm, will send his spies into our very camp, but
he will know what road we travel!"

"Tis enough!" returned the father, glancing his eye towards the setting
sun; "they shall be driven like deer from their bushes. Hawkeye, let us
eat to-night, and show the Maquas that we are men to-morrow."

"I am as ready to do the one as the other; but to fight the Iroquois
'tis necessary to find the skulkers;