ainst the tree.

"You may see, Magua," he said, endeavoring to assume an air of freedom
and confidence, "that the night is closing around us, and yet we are no
nearer to William Henry than when we left the encampment of Webb with
the rising sun. You have missed the way, nor have I been more fortunate.
But, happily we have fallen in with a hunter, he whom you hear talking
to the singer, that is acquainted with the deer-paths and by-ways of the
woods, and who promises to lead us to a place where we may rest securely
till the morning."

The Indian riveted his glowing eyes on Heyward as he asked, in his
imperfect English, "Is he alone?"

"Alone!" hesitatingly answered Heyward to whom deception was too new to
be assumed without embarrassment. "O! not alone, surely, Magua, for you
know that we are with him."

"Then Le Renard Subtil will go," returned the runner, coolly raising his
little wallet from the place where it had lain at his feet; "and the
pale-faces will see none but their own color."

"Go! Whom call you Le Renard?"

"'Tis the name his Canada fathers have given to Magua," returned the
runner, with an air that manifested his pride at the distinction. "Night
is the same as day to Le Subtil, when Munro waits for him."

"And what account will Le Renard give the chief of William Henry
concerning his daughters? Will he dare to tell the hot-blooded Scotsman
that his children are left without a guide, though Magua promised to be
one?"

"Though the gray head has a loud voice, and a long arm, Le Renard will
not hear him, or feel him, in the woods."

"But what will the Mohawks say? They will make him petticoats, and bid
him stay in the wigwam with the women, for he is no longer to be trusted
with the business of a man."

"Le Subtil knows the path to the great lakes, and he can find the bones
of his fathers," was the answer of the unmoved runner.

"Enough, Magua," said Heyward; "are we not friends? Why should there be
bitter words between us? Munro has promised you a gift for your services
when performed, and I shall be your debtor for another. Rest your weary
limbs, then, and open your wallet to eat. We have a few moments to
spare; let us not waste them in talk like wrangling women. When the
ladies are refreshed we will proceed."

"The pale-faces make themselves dogs to their women," muttered the
Indian, in his native language, "and when they want to eat, their
warriors must lay aside the tomahawk to feed their