Edna St. Vincent Millay - "Aria da Capo"

Richard Johnson - "An Address to the Inhabitants Of The Colonies, established in"

Juliet James - "Palaces and Courts of the Exposition"

Richard Johnson - "An Address to the Inhabitants Of The Colonies, established in"

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




"This is not well done, Master Jasper!" angrily exclaimed Cap, as
soon as he perceived the trick which had been played him; "this is
not well done, sir. I order you to cut, and to beach the cutter
without a moment's delay."

No one, however, seemed disposed to comply with this order; for so
long as Eau-douce saw fit to command, his own people were disposed
to obey. Finding that the men remained passive, Cap, who believed
they were in the utmost peril, turned fiercely to Jasper, and
renewed his remonstrances.

"You did not head for your pretended creek," added he, after
dealing in some objurgatory remarks that we do not deem it necessary
to record, "but steered for that bluff, where every soul on board
would have been drowned, had we gone ashore."

"And you wish to cut, and put every soul ashore at that very spot!"
Jasper retorted, a little drily.

"Throw a lead-line overboard, and ascertain the drift!" Cap now
roared to the people forward. A sign from Jasper sustaining this
order, it was instantly obeyed. All on deck watched, with nearly
breathless interest, the result of the experiment. The lead was
no sooner on the bottom, than the line tended forward, and in about
two minutes it was seen that the cutter had drifted her length
dead in towards the bluff. Jasper looked gravely, for he well knew
nothing would hold the vessel did she get within the vortex of the
breakers, the first line of which was appearing and disappearing
about a cable's length directly under their stern.

"Traitor!" exclaimed Cap, shaking a finger at the young commander,
though passion choked the rest. "You must answer for this with
your life!" he added after a short pause. "If I were at the head
of this expedition, Sergeant, I would hang him at the end of the
main-boom, lest he escape drowning."

"Moderate your feelings, brother; be more moderate, I beseech you;
Jasper appears to have done all for the best, and matters may not
be so bad as you believe them."

"Why did he not run for the creek he mentioned? -- why has he brought
us here, dead to windward of that bluff, and to a spot where even
the breakers are only of half the ordinary width, as if in a hurry
to drown all on board?"

"I headed for the bluff, for the precise reason that the breakers
are so narrow at this spot," answered Jasper mildly, though his
gorge had risen at the language the other held.

"Do you mean to tell an old seaman like me that this cutter could
live in those breakers?"

"I do not, sir. I think she would fill and swamp if driven into
the first line of them; I am certain she would never reach the
shore on her bottom, if fairly entered. I hope to keep her clear
of them altogether."

"With a drift of her length in a minute?"

"The backing of the anchors does not yet fairly tell, nor do I even
hope that _they_ will entirely bring her up."

"On what, then, do you rely? To moor a craft, head and stern, by
faith, hope, and charity?"

"No, sir, I trust to the under-tow. I headed for the bluff because
I knew that it was stronger at that point than at any other, and
because we could get nearer in with the land without entering the
breakers."

This was said with spirit, though without any particular show of
resentment. Its effect on Cap was marked, the feeling that was
uppermost being evidently that of surprise.

"Under-tow!" he repeated; "who the devil ever heard of saving a
vessel from going ashore by the under-tow?"

"This may never happen on the ocean, sir," Jasper answered modestly;
"but we have known it to happen here."

"The lad is right, brother," put in the Sergeant; "for, though I
do not well understand it, I have often heard the sailors of the
lake speak of such a thing. We shall do well to trust to Jasper
in this strait."

Cap grumbled and swore; but, as there was no remedy, he was compelled
to acquiesce. Jasper, being now called on to explain what he meant
by the under-tow, gave this account of the matter. The water that
was driven up on the shore by the gale was necessarily compelled
to find its level by returning to the lake by some secret channels.
This could not be done on the surface, where both wind and waves
were constantly urging it towards the land, and it necessarily
formed a sort of lower eddy, by means of which it flowed back again
to its ancient and proper bed. This inferior current had received
the name of the under-tow, and, as it would necessarily act on the
bottom of a vessel which drew as much water as the _Scud_, Jasper
trusted to the aid of this reaction to keep his cables from parting.
In short, the upper and lower currents would, in a manner, counteract
each other.

Simple and ingenious as was this theory, however, as yet there
was little evidence of its being reduced to practice. The drift
continued; though, as the kedges and hawsers with which the anchors
were backed took the strains, it became sensibly less. At length
the man at the lead announced the joyful intelligence that the
anchors had ceased to drag, and that the vessel had brought up!
At this precise moment the first line of breakers was about a
hundred feet astern of the _Scud_, even appearing to approach much
nearer as the foam vanished and returned on the raging surges.
Jasper sprang forward, and, casting a glance over the bows, he
smiled in triumph, as he pointed exultingly to the cables. Instead
of resembling bars of iron in rigidity, as before, they were curving
downwards, and to a seaman's senses it was evident that the cutter
rose and fell on the seas as they came in with the ease of a ship
in a tides-way, when the power of the wind is relieved by the
counteracting pressure of the water.

"'Tis the under-tow!" he exclaimed with delight, fairly bounding
along the deck to steady the helm, in order that the cutter might
ride still easier. "Providence has placed us directly in its
current, and there is no longer any danger."

"Ay, ay, Providence is a good seaman," growled Cap, "and often
helps lubbers out of difficulty. Under-tow or upper-tow, the gale
has abated; and, fortunately for us all, the anchors have met with
good holding-ground. Then this d----d fresh water has an unnatural
way with it."

Men are seldom inclined to quarrel with good fortune, but it is
in distress that they grow clamorous and critical. Most on board
were disposed to believe that they had been saved from shipwreck by
the skill and knowledge of Jasper, without regarding the opinions
of Cap, whose remarks were now little heeded.

There was half an hour of uncertainty and doubt, it is true, during
which period the lead was anxiously watched; and then a feeling
of security came over all, and the weary slept without dreaming of
instant death.



CHAPTER XVIII.

It is to be all made of sighs and tears;
It is to be all made of faith and service;
It is to be all made of phantasy;
All made of passion, and all made of wishes;
All adoration, duty, and observance;
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience;
All purity, all trial, all observance.
SHAKESPEARE.


It was near noon when the gale broke; and then its force abated as
suddenly as its violence had arisen. In less than two hours after
the wind fell, the surface of the lake, though still agitated,
was no longer glittering with foam; and in double that time, the
entire sheet presented the ordinary scene of disturbed water, that
was unbroken by the violence of a tempest. Still the waves came
rolling incessantly towards the shore, and the lines of breakers
remained, though the spray had ceased to fly; the combing of
the swells was more moderate, and all that there was of violence
proceeded from the impulsion of wind which had abated.

As it was impossible to make head against the sea that was still
up, with the light opposing air that blew from the eastward,
all thoughts of getting under way that afternoon were abandoned.
Jasper, who had now quietly resumed the command of the _Scud_,
busied himself, however, in heaving-up the anchors, which were
lifted in succession; the kedges that backed them were weighed, and
everything was got in readiness for a prompt departure, as soon as
the state of the weather would allow. In the meantime, they who
had no concern with these duties sought such means of amusement as
their peculiar circumstances allowed.

As is common with those who are unused to the confinement of a
vessel, Mabel cast wistful eyes towards the shore; nor was it long
before she expressed a wish that it were possible to land. The
Pathfinder was near her at the time, and he assured her that nothing
would be easier, as they had a bark canoe on deck, which was the
best possible mode of conveyance to go through a surf. After the
usual doubts and misgivings, the Sergeant was appealed to; his
opinion proved to be favorable, and preparations to carry the whim
into effect were immediately made.

The party which was to land consisted of Sergeant Dunham, his
daughter, and the Pathfinder. Accustomed to the canoe, Mabel took
her seat in the centre with great steadiness, her father was placed
in the bows, while the guide assumed the office of conductor, by
steering in the stern. There was little need of impelling the canoe
by means of the paddle, for the rollers sent it forward at moments
with a violence that set every effort to govern its movements
at defiance. More than once, before the shore was reached, Mabel
repented of her temerity, but Pathfinder encouraged her, and really
manifested so much self-possession, coolness, and strength of arm
himself, that even a female might have hesitated about owning all
her apprehensions. Our heroine was no coward; and while she felt
the novelty of her situation, in landing through a surf, she also
experienced a fair proportion of its wild delight. At moments,
indeed, her heart was in her mouth, as the bubble of a boat floated
on the very crest of a foaming breaker, appearing to skim the water
like a swallow, and then she flushed and laughed, as, left by the
glancing element, they appeared to linger behind as if ashamed of
having been outdone in the headlong race. A few minutes sufficed
for this excitement; for though the distance between the cutter and
the land considerably exceeded a quarter of a mile, the intermediate
space was passed in a very few minutes.

On landing, the Sergeant kissed his daughter kindly, for he was so
much of a soldier as always to feel more at home on _terra firma_
than when afloat; and, taking his gun, he announced his intention
to pass an hour in quest of game.

"Pathfinder will remain near you, girl, and no doubt he will tell
you some of the traditions of this part of the world, or some of
his own experiences with the Mingos."

The guide laughed, promised to have a care of Mabel, and in a few
minutes the father had ascended a steep acclivity and disappeared
in the forest. The others took another direction, which, after a
few minutes of a sharp ascent also, brought them to a small naked
point on the promontory, where the eye overlooked an extensive and
very peculiar panorama. Here Mabel seated herself on a fragment of
fallen rock to recover her breath and strength, while her companion,
on whose sinews no personal exertion seemed to make any impression,
stood at her side, leaning in his own and not ungraceful manner on
his long rifle. Several minutes passed, and neither spoke; Mabel,
in particular, being lost in admiration of the view.

The position the two had obtained was sufficiently elevated to
command a wide reach of the lake, which stretched away towards
the north-east in a boundless sheet, glittering beneath the rays
of an afternoon's sun, and yet betraying the remains of that
agitation which it had endured while tossed by the late tempest.
The land set bounds to its limits in a huge crescent, disappearing
in distance towards the south-east and the north. Far as the eye
could reach, nothing but forest was visible, not even a solitary sign
of civilization breaking in upon the uniform and grand magnificence
of nature. The gale had driven the _Scud_ beyond the line of
those forts with which the French were then endeavoring to gird
the English North American possessions; for, following the channels
of communication between the great lakes, their posts were on the
banks of the Niagara, while our adventurers had reached a point
many leagues westward of that celebrated strait. The cutter rode
at single anchor, without the breakers, resembling some well-imagined
and accurately-executed toy, intended rather for a glass case
than for struggles with the elements which she had so lately gone
through, while the canoe lay on the narrow beach, just out of
reach of the waves that came booming upon the land, a speck upon
the shingles.

"We are very far here from human habitations!" exclaimed Mabel,
when, after a long survey of the scene, its principal peculiarities
forced themselves on her active and ever brilliant imagination;
"this is indeed being on a frontier."

"Have they more sightly scenes than this nearer the sea and around
their large towns?" demanded Pathfinder, with an interest he was
apt to discover in such a subject.

"I will not say that: there is more to remind one of his fellow-beings
there than here; less, perhaps, to remind one of God."

"Ay, Mabel, that is what my own feelings say. I am but a poor
hunter, I know, untaught and unlarned; but God is as near me, in
this my home, as he is near the king in his royal palace."

"Who can doubt it?" returned Mabel, looking from the view up into
the hard-featured but honest face of her companion, though not
without surprise at the energy of his manner. "One feels nearer
to God in such a spot, I think, than when the mind is distracted
by the objects of the towns."

"You say all I wish to say myself, Mabel, but in so much plainer
speech, that you make me ashamed of wishing to let others know
what I feel on such matters. I have coasted this lake in search of
skins afore the war, and have been here already; not at this very
spot, for we landed yonder, where you may see the blasted
oak that stands above the cluster of hemlocks -- "

"How, Pathfinder, can you remember all these trifles so accurately?"

"These are our streets and houses, our churches and palaces. Remember
them, indeed! I once made an appointment with the Big Sarpent, to
meet at twelve o'clock at noon, near the foot of a certain pine,
at the end of six months, when neither of us was within three hundred
miles of the spot. The tree stood, and stands still, unless the
judgment of Providence has lighted on that too, in the midst of the
forest, fifty miles from any settlement, but in a most extraordinary
neighborhood for beaver."

"And did you meet at that very spot and hour?"

"Does the sun rise and set? When I reached the tree, I found the
Sarpent leaning against its trunk with torn leggings and muddied
moecassins. The Delaware had got into a swamp, and it worried him
not a little to find his way out of it; but as the sun which comes
over the eastern hills in the morning goes down behind the western
at night, so was he true to time and place. No fear of Chingachgook
when there is either a friend or an enemy in the case. He is
equally sartain with each."

"And where is the Delaware now? why is he not with us to-day?"

"He is scouting on the Mingo trail, where I ought to have been too,
but for a great human infirmity."

"You seem above, beyond, superior to all infirmity, Pathfinder; I
never yet met with a man who appeared to be so little liable to
the weaknesses of nature."

"If you mean in the way of health and strength, Mabel, Providence
has been kind to me; though I fancy the open air, long hunts,
active scoutings, forest fare, and the sleep of a good conscience,
may always keep the doctors at a distance. But I am human after
all; yes, I find I'm very human in some of my feelings."

Mabel looked surprised, and it would be no more than delineating
the character of her sex, if we added that her sweet countenance
expressed a good deal of curiosity, too, though her tongue was more
discreet.

"There is something bewitching in this wild life of yours, Pathfinder,"
she exclaimed, a tinge of enthusiasm mantling her cheeks. "I find
I'm fast getting to be a frontier girl, and am coming to love all
this grand silence of the woods. The towns seem tame to me; and,
as my father will probably pass the remainder of his days here,
where he has already lived so long, I begin to feel that I should
be happy to continue with him, and not to return to the seashore."

"The woods are never silent, Mabel, to such as understand their
meaning. Days at a time have I travelled them alone, without
feeling the want of company; and, as for conversation, for such
as can comprehend their language, there is no want of rational and
instructive discourse."

"I believe you are happier when alone, Pathfinder, than when mingling
with your fellow-creatures."

"I will not say that, I will not say exactly that. I have seen
the time when I have thought that God was sufficient for me in
the forest, and that I have craved no more than His bounty and His
care. But other feelings have got uppermost, and I suppose natur'
will have its way. All other creatur's mate, Mabel, and it was
intended man should do so too."

"And have you never bethought you of seeking a wife, Pathfinder,
to share your fortunes?" inquired the girl, with the directness
and simplicity that the pure of heart and the undesigning are the
most apt to manifest, and with that feeling of affection which is
inbred in her sex. "To me it seems you only want a home to return
to from your wanderings to render your life completely happy. Were
I a man, it would be my delight to roam through these forests at
will, or to sail over this beautiful lake."

"I understand you, Mabel; and God bless you for thinking of the
welfare of men as humble as we are. We have our pleasures, it
is true, as well as our gifts, but we might be happier; yes, I do
think we might be happier."

"Happier! in what way, Pathfinder? In this pure air, with these
cool and shaded forests to wander through, this lovely lake to
gaze at and sail upon, with clear consciences, and abundance for
all their real wants, men ought to be nothing less than as perfectly
happy as their infirmities will allow."

"Every creatur' has its gifts, Mabel, and men have theirs," answered
the guide, looking stealthily at his beautiful companion, whose
cheeks had flushed and eyes brightened under the ardor of feelings
excited by the novelty of her striking situation; "and all must
obey them. Do you see yonder pigeon that is just alightin' on the
beach --here in a line with the fallen chestnut?"

"Certainly; it is the only thing stirring with life in it, besides
ourselves, that is to be seen in this vast solitude."

"Not so, Mabel, not so; Providence makes nothing that lives to live
quite alone. Here is its mate, just rising on the wing; it has
been feeding near the other beach, but it will not long be separated
from its companion."

"I understand you, Pathfinder," returned Mabel, smiling sweetly,
though as calmly as if the discourse was with her father. "But
a hunter may find a mate, even in this wild region. The Indian
girls are affectionate and true, I know; for such was the wife of
Arrowhead, to a husband who oftener frowned than smiled."

"That would never do, Mabel, and good would never come of it.
Kind must cling to kind, and country to country, if one would find
happiness. If, indeed, I could meet with one like you, who would
consent to be a hunter's wife, and who would not scorn my ignorance
and rudeness, then, indeed, would all the toil of the past appear
like the sporting of the young deer, and all the future like
sunshine."

"One like me! A girl of my years and indiscretion would hardly
make a fit companion for the boldest scout and surest hunter on
the lines."

"Ah, Mabel! I fear me that I have been improving a red-skin's gifts
with a pale-face's natur'? Such a character would insure a wife
in an Indian village."

"Surely, surely, Pathfinder, you would not think of choosing one so
ignorant, so frivolous, so vain, and so inexperienced as I for your
wife?" Mabel would have added, "and as young;" but an instinctive
feeling of delicacy repressed the words.

"And why not, Mabel? If you are ignorant of frontier usages, you
know more than all of us of pleasant anecdotes and town customs:
as for frivolous, I know not what it means; but if it signifies
beauty, ah's me! I fear it is no fault in my eyes. Vain you are
not, as is seen by the kind manner in which you listen to all my
idle tales about scoutings and trails; and as for experience, that
will come with years. Besides, Mabel, I fear men think little of
these matters when they are about to take wives: I do."

"Pathfinder, your words, -- your looks: -- surely all this is meant
in trifling; you speak in pleasantry?"

"To me it is always agreeable to be near you, Mabel; and I should
sleep sounder this blessed night than I have done for a week past,
could I think that you find such discourse as pleasant as I do."

We shall not say that Mabel Dunham had not believed herself
a favorite with the guide. This her quick feminine sagacity had
early discovered; and perhaps she had occasionally thought there
had mingled with his regard and friendship some of that manly
tenderness which the ruder sex must be coarse, indeed, not to show
on occasions to the gentler; but the idea that he seriously sought
her for his wife had never before crossed the mind of the spirited
and ingenuous girl. Now, however, a gleam of something like the
truth broke in upon her imagination, less induced by the words of
her companion, perhaps, than by his manner. Looking earnestly into
the rugged, honest countenance of the scout, Mabel's own features
became concerned and grave; and when she spoke again, it was with
a gentleness of manner that attracted him to her even more powerfully
than the words themselves were calculated to repel.

"You and I should understand each other, Pathfinder," said she with
an earnest sincerity; "nor should there be any cloud between us.
You are too upright and frank to meet with anything but sincerity
and frankness in return. Surely, surely, all this means nothing,
-- has no other connection with your feelings than such a friendship
as one of your wisdom and character would naturally feel for a girl
like me?"

"I believe it's all nat'ral, Mabel, yes; I do: the Sergeant tells
me he had such feelings towards your own mother, and I think I've
seen something like it in the young people I have from time to
time guided through the wilderness. Yes, yes, I daresay it's all
nat'ral enough, and that makes it come so easy, and is a great
comfort to me."

"Pathfinder, your words make me uneasy. Speak plainer, or change
the subject for ever. You do not, cannot mean that -- you cannot
wish me to understand" -- even the tongue of the spirited Mabel
faltered, and she shrank, with maiden shame, from adding what she
wished so earnestly to say. Rallying her courage, however, and
determined to know all as soon and as plainly as possible, after a
moment's hesitation, she continued, -- "I mean, Pathfinder, that
you do not wish me to understand that you seriously think of me as
a wife?"

"I do, Mabel; that's it, that's just it; and you have put the
matter in a much better point of view than I with my forest gifts
and frontier ways would ever be able to do. The Sergeant and
I have concluded on the matter, if it is agreeable to you, as he
thinks is likely to be the case; though I doubt my own power to
please one who deserves the best husband America can produce."

Mabel's countenance changed from uneasiness to surprise; and then,
by a transition still quicker, from surprise to pain.

"My father!" she exclaimed, -- "my dear father has thought of my
becoming your wife, Pathfinder?"

"Yes, he has, Mabel, he has, indeed. He has even thought such a
thing might be agreeable to you, and has almost encouraged me to
fancy it might be true."

"But you yourself, -- you certainly can care nothing whether this
singular expectation shall ever be realized or not?"

"Anan?"

"I mean, Pathfinder, that you have talked of this match more to
oblige my father than anything else; that your feelings are no way
concerned, let my answer be what it may?"

The scout looked earnestly into the beautiful face of Mabel, which
had flushed with the ardor and novelty of her sensations, and it
was not possible to mistake the intense admiration that betrayed
itself in every lineament of his ingenuous countenance.

"I have often thought myself happy, Mabel, when ranging the woods
on a successful hunt, breathing the pure air of the hills, and
filled with vigor and health; but I now know that it has all been
idleness and vanity compared with the delight it would give me to
know that you thought better of me than you think of most others."

"Better of you! -- I do, indeed, think better of you, Pathfinder,
than of most others: I am not certain that I do not think better
of you than of any other; for your truth, honesty, simplicity,
justice, and courage are scarcely equalled by any of earth."