no longer sought the
person of Magua.

"If the white man is the warrior he pretends," said the aged chief, "let
him strike nigher to the mark."

The scout laughed aloud--a noise that produced the startling effect of
an unnatural sound on Heyward; then dropping the piece heavily into his
extended left hand, it was discharged, apparently by the shock, driving
the fragments of the vessel into the air, and scattering them on every
side. Almost at the same instant, the rattling sound of the rifle was
heard, as he suffered it to fall, contemptuously, to the earth.

The first impression of so strange a scene was engrossing admiration.
Then a low, but increasing murmur, ran through the multitude, and
finally swelled into sounds that denoted a lively opposition in the
sentiments of the spectators. While some openly testified their
satisfaction at so unexampled dexterity, by far the larger portion of
the tribe were inclined to believe the success of the shot was the
result of accident. Heyward was not slow to confirm an opinion that was
so favorable to his own pretentions.

"It was chance!" he exclaimed; "none can shoot without an aim!"

"Chance!" echoed the excited woodsman, who was now stubbornly bent on
maintaining his identity at every hazard, and on whom the secret hints
of Heyward to acquiesce in the deception were entirely lost. "Does
yonder lying Huron, too, think it chance? Give him another gun, and
place us face to face, without cover or dodge, and let Providence, and
our own eyes, decide the matter atween us! I do not make the offer to
you, major; for our blood is of a color, and we serve the same master."

"That the Huron is a liar, is very evident," returned Heyward, coolly;
"you have yourself heard him assert you to be La Longue Carabine."

It were impossible to say what violent assertion the stubborn Hawkeye
would have next made, in his headlong wish to vindicate his identity,
had not the aged Delaware once more interposed.

"The hawk which comes from the clouds can return when he will," he said;
"give them the guns."

This time the scout seized the rifle with avidity; nor had Magua, though
he watched the movement of the marksman with jealous eyes, any further
cause for apprehension.

"Now let it be proved, in the face of this tribe of Delawares, which is
the better man," cried the scout, tapping the butt of his piece with
that finger which had pulled so many fatal triggers. "You see the gourd
hanging a