Constance had told her clearly
what had happened. "I know, however, that no joy on earth could be more
exquisite than that he felt in the consciousness that he had given his
life to save yours. I must not mourn for him as those who have no hope.
We must not remain here," continued Cora, as they disembarked from the
canoe. "They will certainly pursue us, and we shall not be in safety
till we reach our village, where the remnant of our tribe is collected.
Alas! there will be bitter grief and loud wailing for the many who have,
I fear, fallen."

With perfect calmness Cora gave directions to her people to convey the
body of her brother, and follow quickly, while she led Nigel, who
supported Constance, through the woods. Faint and overcome with grief
as Constance was, Cora urged, notwithstanding, that they should continue
their course without stopping, for she felt convinced that a fearful
loss had overtaken her tribe from the account which the last-arrived
Indian had given her. He had, he affirmed, before Tecumah and his party
had cut their way out of the fort, seen Tuscarora and many of their
tribe shot down by the enemy; and he had also witnessed the death of the
count. Nigel questioned him narrowly, but could elicit nothing that
could shake his testimony.

Sad, indeed, as Cora had expected, was the way in which they were
received at her village, and it was feared, indeed, that even it might
be attacked while there only remained the old men and boys for its
defence. It was proposed, therefore, that they should move further into
the country; but Cora urged them to remain, and, as a precaution against
surprise, sent out scouts to give timely notice of the appearance of an
enemy, or the return of their friends. They all, however, packed up
their property, and remained prepared for instant flight.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

CONCLUSION.

Just as dawn was breaking, a warrior was seen approaching the village.
His bow was broken; his dress torn and besmeared with blood. The
inhabitants, who were on the watch, anxiously went out to meet him. He
hung down his head without uttering a word, and not for some time could
he be induced to speak.

At length, a groan bursting from his breast, he exclaimed--

"All, all, are lost! In vain our warriors, led by Tuscarora, fought to
the last. One after another they were shot down by the bullets of the
white faces, or cut to pieces by the war hatchets of the hated Tuparas.
Our Fr