For some time they sat together, admiring the beauty of the scene before them, and watching the long procession in the defile below, as it wound, ‘in Indian file,’ between the rocks and tangled bushes that cumbered the vale, until it was almost out of sight.  Rudolph lay beside them, apparently asleep; but the slumber of a faithful watch-dog is always light, and Rodolph was one of the most vigilant of his race.  Why did he now utter a low uneasy moan, as if he dreamt of danger?  It was so low that, if Henrich heard it, he did not pay any heed to it, and continued talking to Oriana of their approaching journey, and of their plans for the future, in perfect security.

But their conversation was suddenly and painfully interrupted.  A fierce bark from Rodolph, as he sprang on some one in the bush close beside Henrich, and the grasp of a powerful hand upon his shoulder at the same instant, caused the young Sachem to glance round.  He found himself held to the ground by Coubitant, who was endeavoring to force him over the precipice; and would, from the suddenness and strength of the attack, have undoubtedly succeeded, but for the timely aid of Rodolph, who had seized on his left arm, and held it back in his powerful jaws.  He was, however, unable to displace the savage, or release his master from the perilous situation in which he was placed; and, owing to the manner in which Henrich had seated himself on the extreme verge of the rock that overhung the precipice, it was out of his power to spring to his feet, or offer any effectual resistance.  The slender but not feeble arm of Oriana, as she clung frantically to her husband, and strove to draw him back to safety, was, apparently, the only human power that now preserved him from instant destruction.  Not a sound was uttered by one of the struggling group; scarcely a breath was drawn—­so intense was the mental emotion, and the muscular effort that nerved every fiber during these awfully protracted moments.

But help was nigh!  He, in whose hands are the lives of His creatures, sent aid when aid was so needful.  A loud cry was heard in the thicket; and, as Coubitant made one more desperate effort to hurl his detested rival from the rock, and almost succeeded in flinging the whole group together into the depths below—­he felt himself encircled by arms as muscular as his own, and suddenly dragged backwards.

Henrich sprang on the firm ground, and beheld his faithful friend Jyanough in fierce conflict with the treacherous Coubitant, and powerfully assisted by Rodolph, who had loosed the murderer’s arm, but continued to assail and wound him as he struggled to draw his new antagonist to the brink, and seemed resolved to have one victim, even if he shared the same dreadful fate himself.  Henrich flew to the aid of his friend, leaving Oriana motionless, and almost breathless, on the spot where she had endured such agony of mind, and such violent bodily exertion.  For once, her strength and spirit failed her; for the trial had been too great, and faintness overcame her as she saw her husband again approach his deadly and now undisguised foe.