W. R. Inge - "Light, Life, and Love"

Catherine E. Beecher and Harriet Beecher Stowe - "The American Woman's Home"

Louis Antoine Fauvelet de Bourrienne - "Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte, V3"

Paul Severing - "Marvels of Modern Science"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: The Pathfinder

J >> James Fenimore Cooper >> The Pathfinder




"As for moccasins, Master Cap," said he, when a short pause
invited him to speak, "they may be worn by pale-faces as well as
by red-skins, it is true, though they never leave the same trail
on the foot of one as on the foot of the other. Any one who is used
to the woods can tell the footstep of an Indian from the footstep
of a white man, whether it be made by a boot or a moccasin. It
will need better evidence than this to persuade me into the belief
that Jasper is false."

"You will allow, Pathfinder, that there are such things in the
world as traitors?" put in Cap logically.

"I never knew an honest-minded Mingo, -- one that you could put
faith in, if he had a temptation to deceive you. Cheating seems
to be their gift, and I sometimes think they ought to be pitied
for it, rather than persecuted."

"Then why not believe that this Jasper may have the same weakness?
A man is a man, and human nature is sometimes but a poor concern,
as I know by experience."

This was the opening of another long and desultory conversation,
in which the probability of Jasper's guilt or innocence was argued
_pro_ and _con_, until both the Sergeant and his brother-in-law
had nearly reasoned themselves into settled convictions in favor
of the first, while their companion grew sturdier and sturdier in
his defence of the accused, and still more fixed in his opinion
of his being unjustly charged with treachery. In this there was
nothing out of the common course of things; for there is no more
certain way of arriving at any particular notion, than by undertaking
to defend it; and among the most obstinate of our opinions may
be classed those which are derived from discussions in which we
affect to search for truth, while in reality we are only fortifying
prejudice.

By this time the Sergeant had reached a state of mind that disposed
him to view every act of the young sailor with distrust, and
he soon got to coincide with his relative in deeming the peculiar
knowledge of Jasper, in reference to the spies, a branch of
information that certainly did not come within the circle of his
regular duties, as "a circumstance."

While this matter was thus discussed near the taffrail, Mabel sat
silently by the companion-way, Mr. Muir having gone below to look
after his personal comforts, and Jasper standing a little aloof,
with his arms crossed, and his eyes wandering from the sails to
the clouds, from the clouds to the dusky outline of the shore, from
the shore to the lake, and from the lake back again to the sails.
Our heroine, too, began to commune with her own thoughts. The
excitement of the late journey, the incidents which marked the
day of her arrival at the fort, the meeting with a father who was
virtually a stranger to her, the novelty of her late situation in
the garrison, and her present voyage, formed a vista for the mind's
eye to look back through, which seemed lengthened into months. She
could with difficulty believe that she had so recently left the
town, with all the usages of civilized life; and she wondered in
particular that the incidents which had occurred during the descent
of the Oswego had made so little impression on her mind. Too
inexperienced to know that events, when crowded, have the effect
of time, or that the quick succession of novelties that pass before
us in travelling elevates objects, in a measure, to the dignity of
events, she drew upon her memory for days and dates, in order to
make certain that she had known Jasper, and the Pathfinder, and
her own father, but little more than a fortnight. Mabel was a girl
of heart rather than of imagination, though by no means deficient
in the last, and she could not easily account for the strength of
her feelings in connection with those who were so lately strangers
to her; for she was not sufficiently accustomed to analyze her
sensations to understand the nature of the influences that have
just been mentioned. As yet, however, her pure mind was free from
the blight of distrust, and she had no suspicion of the views of
either of her suitors; and one of the last thoughts that could have
voluntarily disturbed her confidence would have been to suppose
it possible either of her companions was a traitor to his king and
country.

America, at the time of which we are writing, was remarkable for
its attachment to the German family that then sat on the British
throne; for, as is the fact with all provinces, the virtues and
qualities that are proclaimed near the centre of power, as incense
and policy, get to be a part of political faith with the credulous
and ignorant at a distance. This truth is just as apparent to-day,
in connection with the prodigies of the republic, as it then was
in connection with those distant rulers, whose merits it was always
safe to applaud, and whose demerits it was treason to reveal. It
is a consequence of this mental dependence, that public opinion is
so much placed at the mercy of the designing; and the world, in
the midst of its idle boasts of knowledge and improvement, is left
to receive its truths, on all such points as touch the interests
of the powerful and managing, through such a medium, and such a
medium only, as may serve the particular views of those who pull
the wires. Pressed upon by the subjects of France, who were then
encircling the British colonies with a belt of forts and settlements
that completely secured the savages for allies, it would have been
difficult to say whether the Americans loved the English more than
they hated the French; and those who then lived probably would have
considered the alliance which took place between the cis-Atlantic
subjects and the ancient rivals of the British crown, some twenty
years later, as an event entirely without the circle of probabilities.
Disaffection was a rare offence; and, most of all, would treason,
that should favor France or Frenchmen, have been odious in the
eyes of the provincials. The last thing that Mabel would suspect
of Jasper was the very crime with which he now stood secretly
charged; and if others near her endured the pains of distrust,
she, at least, was filled with the generous confidence of a woman.
As yet no whisper had reached her ear to disturb the feeling of
reliance with which she had early regarded the young sailor, and
her own mind would have been the last to suggest such a thought of
itself. The pictures of the past and of the present, therefore,
that exhibited themselves so rapidly to her active imagination,
were unclouded with a shade that might affect any in whom she felt
an interest; and ere she had mused, in the manner related, a quarter
of an hour, the whole scene around her was filled with unalloyed
satisfaction.

The season and the night, to represent them truly, were of a nature
to stimulate the sensations which youth, health, and happiness are
wont to associate with novelty. The weather was warm, as is not
always the case in that region even in summer, while the air that
came off the land, in breathing currents, brought with it the
coolness and fragrance of the forest. The wind was far from being
fresh, though there was enough of it to drive the _Scud_ merrily
ahead, and, perhaps, to keep attention alive, in the uncertainty
that more or less accompanies darkness. Jasper, however, appeared
to regard it with complacency, as was apparent by what he said in
a short dialogue that now occurred between him and Mabel.

"At this rate, Eau-douce," -- for so Mabel had already learned to
style the young sailor, -- said our heroine, "we cannot be long in
reaching our place of destination."

"Has your father then told you what that is, Mabel?"

"He has told me nothing; my father is too much of a soldier, and too
little used to have a family around him, to talk of such matters.
Is it forbidden to say whither we are bound?"

"It cannot be far, while we steer in this direction, for sixty or
seventy miles will take us into the St. Lawrence, which the French
might make too hot for us; and no voyage on this lake can be very
long."

"So says my uncle Cap; but to me, Jasper, Ontario and the ocean
appear very much the same."

"You have then been on the ocean; while I, who pretend to be
a sailor, have never yet seen salt water. You must have a great
contempt for such a mariner as myself, in your heart, Mabel Dunham?"

"Then I have no such thing in my heart, Jasper Eau-douce. What
right have I, a girl without experience or knowledge, to despise
any, much less one like you, who are trusted by the Major, and who
command a vessel like this? I have never been on the ocean, though
I have seen it; and, I repeat, I see no difference between this
lake and the Atlantic."

"Nor in them that sail on both? I was afraid, Mabel, your uncle
had said so much against us fresh-water sailors, that you had begun
to look upon us as little better than pretenders?"

"Give yourself no uneasiness on that account, Jasper; for I know
my uncle, and he says as many things against those who live ashore,
when at York, as he now says against those who sail on fresh water.
No, no, neither my father nor myself think anything of such opinions.
My uncle Cap, if he spoke openly, would be found to have even a
worse notion of a soldier than of a sailor who never saw the sea."

"But your father, Mabel, has a better opinion of soldiers than of
any one else? he wishes you to be the wife of a soldier?"

"Jasper Eau-douce! -- I the wife of a soldier! My father wishes
it! Why should he wish any such thing? What soldier is there
in the garrison that I could marry -- that he could _wish me_ to
marry?"

"One may love a calling so well as to fancy it will cover a thousand
imperfections."

"But one is not likely to love his own calling so well as to cause
him to overlook everything else. You say my father wishes me
to marry a soldier; and yet there is no soldier at Oswego that he
would be likely to give me to. I am in an awkward position; for
while I am not good enough to be the wife of one of the gentlemen
of the garrison, I think even you will admit, Jasper, I am too
good to be the wife of one of the common soldiers."

As Mabel spoke thus frankly she blushed, she knew not why, though
the obscurity concealed the fact from her companion; and she laughed
faintly, like one who felt that the subject, however embarrassing
it might be, deserved to be treated fairly. Jasper, it would seem,
viewed her position differently from herself.

"It is true Mabel," said he, "you are not what is called a lady,
in the common meaning of the word."

"Not in any meaning, Jasper," the generous girl eagerly interrupted:
"on that head, I have no vanities, I hope. Providence has made
me the daughter of a sergeant, and I am content to remain in the
station in which I was born."

"But all do not remain in the stations in which they were born,
Mabel; for some rise above them, and some fall below them. Many
sergeants have become officers -- even generals; and why may not
sergeants' daughters become officers' ladies?"

"In the case of Sergeant Dunham's daughter, I know no better reason
than the fact that no officer is likely to wish to make her his
wife," returned Mabel, laughing.

"_You_ may think so; but there are some in the 55th that know
better. There is certainly one officer in that regiment, Mabel,
who does wish to make you his wife."

Quick as the flashing lightning, the rapid thoughts of Mabel Dunham
glanced over the five or six subalterns of the corps, who, by age
and inclinations, would be the most likely to form such a wish; and
we should do injustice to her habits, perhaps, were we not to say
that a lively sensation of pleasure rose momentarily in her bosom, at
the thought of being raised above a station which, whatever might
be her professions of contentment, she felt that she had been too
well educated to fill with perfect satisfaction. But this emotion
was as transient as it was sudden; for Mabel Dunham was a girl of
too much pure and womanly feeling to view the marriage tie through
anything so worldly as the mere advantages of station. The passing
emotion was a thrill produced by factitious habits, while the more
settled opinion which remained was the offspring of nature and
principles.

"I know no officer in the 55th, or any other regiment, who would
be likely to do so foolish a thing; nor do I think I myself would
do so foolish a thing as to marry an officer."

"Foolish, Mabel!"

"Yes, foolish, Jasper. You know, as well as I can know, what the
world would think of such matters; and I should be sorry, very
sorry, to find that my husband ever regretted that he had so far
yielded to a fancy for a face or a figure as to have married the
daughter of one so much his inferior as a sergeant."

"_Your_ husband, Mabel, will not be so likely to think of the father
as to think of the daughter."

The girl was talking with spirit, though feeling evidently entered
into her part of the discourse; but she paused for nearly a minute
after Jasper had made the last observation before she uttered
another word. Then she continued, in a manner less playful,
and one critically attentive might have fancied in a manner
slightly melancholy, --

"Parent and child ought so to live as not to have two hearts, or
two modes of feeling and thinking. A common interest in all things
I should think as necessary to happiness in man and wife, as between
the other members of the same family. Most of all, ought neither
the man nor the woman to have any unusual cause for unhappiness,
the world furnishing so many of itself."

"Am I to understand, then, Mabel, you would refuse to marry an
officer, merely because he was an officer?"

"Have you a right to ask such a question, Jasper?" said Mabel
smiling.

"No other right than what a strong desire to see you happy can
give, which, after all, may be very little. My anxiety has been
increased, from happening to know that it is your father's intention
to persuade you to marry Lieutenant Muir."

"My dear, dear father can entertain no notion so ridiculous -- no
notion so cruel!"

"Would it, then, be cruel to wish you the wife of a quartermaster?"

"I have told you what I think on that subject, and cannot make my
words stronger. Having answered you so frankly, Jasper, I have a
right to ask how you know that my father thinks of any such thing?"

"That he has chosen a husband for you, I know from his own mouth;
for he has told me this much during our frequent conversations
while he has been superintending the shipment of the stores; and
that Mr. Muir is to offer for you, I know from the officer himself,
who has told me as much. By putting the two things together, I
have come to the opinion mentioned."

"May not my dear father, Jasper," -- Mabel's face glowed like
fire while she spoke, though her words escaped her slowly, and by
a sort of involuntary impulse, -- "may not my dear father have been
thinking of another? It does not follow, from what you say, that
Mr. Muir was in his mind."

"Is it not probable, Mabel, from all that has passed? What brings
the Quartermaster here? He has never found it necessary before to
accompany the parties that have gone below. He thinks of you for
his wife; and your father has made up his own mind that you shall
be so. You must see, Mabel, that Mr. Muir follows _you?_"

Mabel made no answer. Her feminine instinct had, indeed, told her
that she was an object of admiration with the Quartermaster; though
she had hardly supposed to the extent that Jasper believed; and
she, too, had even gathered from the discourse of her father that
he thought seriously of having her disposed of in marriage; but by
no process of reasoning could she ever have arrived at the inference
that Mr. Muir was to be the man. She did not believe it now,
though she was far from suspecting the truth. Indeed, it was her
own opinion that these casual remarks of her father, which had
struck her, had proceeded from a general wish to have her settled,
rather than from any desire to see her united to any particular
individual. These thoughts, however, she kept secret; for
self-respect and feminine reserve showed her the impropriety of
making them the subject of discussion with her present companion.
By way of changing the conversation, therefore, after the pause had
lasted long enough to be embarrassing to both parties, she said,
"Of one thing you may be certain, Jasper, -- and that is all I
wish to say on the subject, -- Lieutenant Muir, though he were a
colonel, will never be the husband of Mabel Dunham. And now, tell
me of your voyage; --when will it end?"

"That is uncertain. Once afloat, we are at the mercy of the winds
and waves. Pathfinder will tell you that he who begins to chase
the deer in the morning cannot tell where he will sleep at night."

"But we are not chasing a deer, nor is it morning: so Pathfinder's
moral is thrown away."

"Although we are not chasing a deer, we are after that which may be
as hard to catch. I can tell you no more than I have said already;
for it is our duty to be close-mouthed, whether anything depends on
it or not. I am afraid, however, I shall not keep you long enough
in the _Scud_ to show you what she can do at need."

"I think a woman unwise who ever marries a sailor," said Mabel
abruptly, and almost involuntarily.

"This is a strange opinion; why do you hold it?"

"Because a sailor's wife is certain to have a rival in his vessel.
My uncle Cap, too, says that a sailor should never marry."

"He means salt-water sailors," returned Jasper, laughing. "If
he thinks wives not good enough for those who sail on the ocean,
he will fancy them just suited to those who sail on the lakes. I
hope, Mabel, you do not take your opinions of us fresh-water mariners
from all that Master Cap says."

"Sail, ho!" exclaimed the very individual of whom they were
conversing; "or boat, ho! would be nearer the truth."

Jasper ran forward; and, sure enough, a small object was discernible
about a hundred yards ahead of the cutter, and nearly on her lee
bow. At the first glance, he saw it was a bark canoe; for, though
the darkness prevented hues from being distinguished, the eye that
had become accustomed to the night might discern forms at some
little distance; and the eye which, like Jasper's, had long been
familiar with things aquatic, could not be at a loss in discovering
the outlines necessary to come to the conclusion he did.

"This may be an enemy," the young man remarked; "and it may be well
to overhaul him."

"He is paddling with all his might, lad," observed the Pathfinder,
"and means to cross your bows and get to windward, when you might
as well chase a full-grown buck on snow-shoes!"

"Let her luff," cried Jasper to the man at the helm. "Luff up,
till she shakes. There, steady, and hold all that."

The helmsman complied; and, as the _Scud_ was now dashing the water
aside merrily, a minute or two put the canoe so far to leeward
as to render escape impracticable. Jasper now sprang to the helm
himself and, by judicious and careful handling, he got so near his
chase that it was secured by a boat-hook. On receiving an order,
the two persons who were in the canoe left it, and no sooner had
they reached the deck of the cutter than they were found to be
Arrowhead and his wife.



CHAPTER XV.

What pearl is it that rich men cannot buy,
That learning is too proud to gather up;
But which the poor and the despised of all
Seek and obtain, and often find unsought?
Tell me -- and I will tell thee what is truth.
COWPER.


The meeting with the Indian and his wife excited no surprise in
the majority of those who witnessed the occurrence; but Mabel, and
all who knew of the manner in which this chief had been separated
from the party of Cap, simultaneously entertained suspicions, which
it was far easier to feel than to follow out by any plausible clue
to certainty. Pathfinder, who alone could converse freely with the
prisoners, for such they might now be considered, took Arrowhead
aside, and held a long conversation with him, concerning the reasons
of the latter for having deserted his charge and the manner in
which he had been since employed.

The Tuscarora met these inquiries, and he gave his answers with the
stoicism of an Indian. As respects the separation, his excuses
were very simply made, and they seemed to be sufficiently plausible.
When he found that the party was discovered in its place of
concealment, he naturally sought his own safety, which he secured
by plunging into the woods. In a word, he had run away in order
to save his life.

"This is well," returned Pathfinder, affecting to believe the other's
apologies; "my brother did very wisely; but his woman followed?"

"Do not the pale-faces' women follow their husbands? Would not
Pathfinder have looked back to see if one he loved was coming?"

This appeal was made to the guide while he was in a most fortunate
frame of mind to admit its force; for Mabel and her blandishments
and constancy were becoming images familiar to his thoughts. The
Tuscarora, though he could not trace the reason, saw that his
excuse was admitted, and he stood with quiet dignity awaiting the
next inquiry.

"This is reasonable and natural," returned Pathfinder; "this is
natural, and may be so. A woman would be likely to follow the man
to whom she had plighted faith, and husband and wife are one flesh.
Your words are honest, Tuscarora," changing the language to the
dialect of the other. "Your words are honest, and very pleasant
and just. But why has my brother been so long from the fort? His
friends have thought of him often, but have never seen him."

"If the doe follows the buck, ought not the buck to follow the doe?"
answered the Tuscarora, smiling, as he laid a finger significantly
on the shoulder of his interrogator. "Arrowhead's wife followed
Arrowhead; it was right in Arrowhead to follow his wife. She lost
her way, and they made her cook in a strange wigwam."

"I understand you, Tuscarora. The woman fell into the hands of
the Mingos, and you kept upon their trail."

"Pathfinder can see a reason as easily as he can see the moss on
the trees. It is so."

"And how long have you got the woman back, and in what manner has
it been done?"

"Two suns. The Dew-of-June was not long in coming when her husband
whispered to her the path."

"Well, well, all this seems natural, and according to matrimony.
But, Tuscarora, how did you get that canoe, and why are you paddling
towards the St. Lawrence instead of the garrison?"

"Arrowhead can tell his own from that of another. This canoe is
mine; I found it on the shore near the fort."

"That sounds reasonable, too, for the canoe does belong to the man,
and an Indian would make few words about taking it. Still, it is
extraordinary that we saw nothing of the fellow and his wife, for
the canoe must have left the river before we did ourselves."

This idea, which passed rapidly through the mind of the guide, was
now put to the Indian in the shape of a question.

"Pathfinder knows that a warrior can have shame. The father would
have asked me for his daughter, and I could not give her to him. I
sent the Dew-of-June for the canoe, and no one spoke to the woman.
A Tuscarora woman would not be free in speaking to strange men."

All this, too, was plausible, and in conformity with Indian
character and customs. As was usual, Arrowhead had received one
half of his compensation previously to quitting the Mohawk; and his
refraining to demand the residue was a proof of that conscientious
consideration of mutual rights that quite as often distinguishes
the morality of a savage as that of a Christian. To one as upright
as Pathfinder, Arrowhead had conducted himself with delicacy and
propriety, though it would have been more in accordance with his
own frank nature to have met the father, and abided by the simple
truth. Still, accustomed to the ways of Indians, he saw nothing
out of the ordinary track of things in the course the other had
taken.

"This runs like water flowing down hill, Arrowhead," he answered,
after a little reflection, "and truth obliges me to own it. It was
the gift of a red-skin to act in this way, though I do not think
it was the gift of a pale-face. You would not look upon the grief
of the girl's father?"

Arrowhead made a quiet inclination of the body as if to assent.

"One thing more my brother will tell me," continued Pathfinder, "and
there will be no cloud between his wigwam and the strong-house of
the Yengeese. If he can blow away this bit of fog with his breath,
his friends will look at him as he sits by his own fire, and he can
look at them as they lay aside their arms, and forget that they are
warriors. Why was the head of Arrowhead's canoe looking towards
the St. Lawrence, where there are none but enemies to be found?"

"Why were the Pathfinder and his friends looking the same way?"
asked the Tuscarora calmly. "A Tuscarora may look in the same
direction as a Yengeese."

"Why, to own the truth, Arrowhead, we are out scouting like; that
is, sailing -- in other words, we are on the king's business, and
we have a right to be here, though we may not have a right to say
_why_ we are here."