“Good,” returned Arrowhead, who did not conceal his approbation of Mabel’s spirit.

“It has an unseaman-like look,” answered Cap; “but, being in the woods, no one will know it.  If you think, Mabel —­ "

“Uncle, I know.  There is no cause to fear for me; and you are always nigh to protect me.”

“Well, take one of the pistols, then —­ "

“Nay, I had better rely on my youth and feebleness,” said the girl, smiling, while her color heightened under her feelings.  “Among Christian men, a woman’s best guard is her claim to their protection.  I know nothing of arms, and wish to live in ignorance of them.”

The uncle desisted; and, after receiving a few cautious instructions from the Tuscarora, Mabel rallied all her spirit, and advanced alone towards the group seated near the fire.  Although the heart of the girl beat quick, her step was firm, and her movements, seemingly, were without reluctance.  A death-like silence reigned in the forest, for they towards whom she approached were too much occupied in appeasing their hunger to avert their looks for an instant from the important business in which they were all engaged.  When Mabel, however, had got within a hundred feet of the fire, she trod upon a dried stick, and the trifling noise produced by her light footstep caused the Mohican, as Arrowhead had pronounced the Indian to be, and his companion, whose character had been thought so equivocal, to rise to their feet, as quick as thought.  Both glanced at the rifles that leaned against a tree; and then each stood without stretching out an arm, as his eyes fell on the form of the girl.  The Indian uttered a few words to his companion, and resumed his seat and his meal as calmly as if no interruption had occurred.  On the contrary, the white man left the fire, and came forward to meet Mabel.

The latter saw, as the stranger approached that she was about to be addressed by one of her own color, though his dress was so strange a mixture of the habits of the two races, that it required a near look to be certain of the fact.  He was of middle age; but there was an open honesty, a total absence of guile, in his face, which otherwise would not have been thought handsome, that at once assured Magnet she was in no danger.  Still she paused.

“Fear nothing, young woman,” said the hunter, for such his attire would indicate him to be; “you have met Christian men in the wilderness, and such as know how to treat all kindly who are disposed to peace and justice.  I am a man well known in all these parts, and perhaps one of my names may have reached your ears.  By the Frenchers and the red-skins on the other side of the Big Lakes, I am called La Longue Carabine; by the Mohicans, a just-minded and upright tribe, what is left of them, Hawk Eye; while the troops and rangers along this side of the water call me Pathfinder, inasmuch as I have never been known to miss one end of the trail, when there was a Mingo, or a friend who stood in need of me, at the other.”