ts first plunge of two hundred
feet: "It's a drop for the old Hudson," added Natty. The Shakers were
called upon in their beautiful valley and neat village at Lebanon; good
dinners were eaten at friendly tables in Albany; and gay were the times
they had in Ballston and Saratoga. Thence to the Lake George region, its
wooded heights, islands, crystal lakes, silent shores. For a while they
lingered with delight, then turned back for the dark, still caverns in
the heart of Glens Fall. These caverns were, Natty said, "Two little
holes for us to hide in." He added, "Falls on two sides of us, and the
river above and below!--it would be worth the trouble to step up on the
height of this rock and look at the pervarcity of the water. It falls by
no rule at all." Within the shadows and silence of these caverns Mr.
Stanley suggested to Cooper that "here was the very scene for a
romance," and the author promised his friend that a book should be
written in which these caves would play an important part. A story of
strong Indian make-up first came then to the author's mind. Before
leaving, these caverns and the surrounding country were closely examined
for future use.

[Illustration: SUNRISE AT SOUTH MOUNTAIN.]

[Illustration: GLEN'S FALL'S CAVERNS.]

[Illustration: HONORABLE MR. STANLEY.]

Besides his youthful and Lake Ontario experiences with Indians, Cooper
followed parties of them from Albany to New York, and several times to
Washington, for the purpose of closely studying their natures and
habits; all authorities in print were consulted. On his return home the
book was begun and rapidly written. "Planned beneath the summer leaves,
on the far shore of picturesque Hell Gate, above smiling fields and
bowering orchards of his Angevine home, those leaves had scarcely fallen
when the story was told--'the most uniformly exciting and powerful of
his fictions'--'The Last of the Mohicans,' and Natty and Chingachgook
were left in the wilderness beside the rude grave of Uncas." Again they
came into the shadow of the unbroken forest, as called for by the _one_
friend he now constantly consulted,--his faithful, loving life-mate. At
the time of its writing Cooper had a serious illness, during which his
mind was filled with ideas for this book. Suddenly rousing himself one
of these autumn afternoons, he called for pen and paper, but too ill to
use them, asked Mrs. Cooper, watching anxiously by his side, to write
for him. Fearing delirium, sh