Byron J. Rees - "The Heart Cry of Jesus"

Frederic Austin Ogg - "The Old Northwest, A Chronicle of the Ohio Valley and Beyond"

Octave Feuillet - "Monsieur de Camors, v2"

Jean de La Fontaine - "The Tales and Novels, v10: Imitation of Anacreon"

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




"Whither so fast, pretty Mabel?" he cried; "and why so given to
solitude? The worthy Sergeant will deride my breeding, if he hear
that his daughter passes the mornings alone and unattended to, though
he well knows it is my ardent wish to be her slave and companion
from the beginning of the year to its end."

"Surely, Mr. Muir, you must have some authority here?" Mabel suddenly
arrested her steps to say. "One of your rank would be listened
to, at least, by a corporal?"

"I don't know that, I don't know that," interrupted Muir, with an
impatience and appearance of alarm that might have excited Mabel's
attention at another moment. "Command is command; discipline,
discipline; and authority, authority. Your good father would
be sore grieved did he find me interfering to sully or carry off
the laurels he is about to win; and I cannot command the Corporal
without equally commanding the Sergeant. The wisest way will
be for me to remain in the obscurity of a private individual in
this enterprise; and it is so that all parties, from Lundie down,
understand the transaction."

"This I know, and it may be well, nor would I give my dear father
any cause of complaint; but you may influence the Corporal to his
own good."

"I'll no' say that," returned Muir in his sly Scotch way; "it would
be far safer to promise to influence him to his injury. Mankind,
pretty Mabel, have their peculiarities; and to influence a
fellow-being to his own good is one of the most difficult tasks of
human nature, while the opposite is just the easiest. You'll no'
forget this, my dear, but bear it in mind for your edification and
government. But what is that you're twisting round your slender
finger as you may be said to twist hearts?"

"It is nothing but a bit of cloth -- a sort of flag -- a trifle
that is hardly worth our attention at this grave moment. If -- "

"A trifle! It's no' so trifling as ye may imagine, Mistress
Mabel," taking the bit of bunting from her, and stretching it at
full length with both his arms extended, while his face grew grave
and his eye watchful. "Ye'll no' ha' been finding this, Mabel
Dunham, in the breakfast?"

Mabel simply acquainted him with the spot where and the manner in
which she had found the bit of cloth. While she was speaking, the
eye of the Quartermaster was not quiet for a moment, glancing from
the rag to the face of our heroine, then back again to the rag.
That his suspicions were awakened was easy to be seen, nor was he
long in letting it be known what direction they had taken.

"We are not in a part of the world where our ensigns and gauds ought
to be spread abroad to the wind, Mabel Dunham!" he said, with an
ominous shake of the head.

"I thought as much myself, Mr. Muir, and brought away the little
flag lest it might be the means of betraying our presence here to
the enemy, even though nothing is intended by its display. Ought
not my uncle to be made acquainted with the circumstance?"

"I no' see the necessity for that, pretty Mabel; for, as you justly
say, it is a circumstance, and circumstances sometimes worry the
worthy mariner. But this flag, if flag it can be called, belongs
to a seaman's craft. You may perceive that it is made of what is
called bunting, and that is a description of cloth used only by
vessels for such purposes, _our_ colors being of silk, as you may
understand, or painted canvas. It's surprisingly like the fly of
the _Scud's_ ensign. And now I recollect me to have observed that
a piece had been cut from that very flag."

Mabel felt her heart sink, but she had sufficient self-command not
to attempt an answer.

"It must be looked to," Muir continued, "and, after all, I think
it may be well to hold a short consultation with Master Cap, than
whom a more loyal subject does not exist in the British empire."

"I have thought the warning so serious," Mabel rejoined, "that I
am about to remove to the blockhouse, and to take the woman with
me."

"I do not see the prudence of that, Mabel. The blockhouse will
be the first spot assailed should there really be an attack; and
it's no' well provided for a siege, that must be allowed. If I
might advise in so delicate a contingency, I would recommend your
taking refuge in the boat, which, as you may now perceive, is most
favorably placed to retreat by that channel opposite, where all in
it would be hid by the islands in one or two minutes. Water leaves
no trail, as Pathfinder well expresses it; and there appears to
be so many different passages in that quarter that escape would
be more than probable. I've always been of opinion that Lundie
hazarded too much in occupying a post so far advanced and so much
exposed as this."

"It's too late to regret it now, Mr. Muir, and we have only to
consult our own security."

"And the king's honor, pretty Mabel. Yes, his Majesty's arms and
his glorious name are not to be overlooked on any occasion."

"Then I think it might be better if we all turned our eyes towards
the place that has been built to maintain them instead of the boat,"
said Mabel, smiling; "and so, Mr. Muir, I am for the blockhouse,
intending to await there the return of my father and his party.
He would be sadly grieved at finding we had fled when he got back
successful himself, and filled with the confidence of our having
been as faithful to our duties as he has been to his own."

"Nay, nay, for heaven's sake, do not misunderstand me, Mabel!" Muir
interrupted, with some alarm of manner; "I am far from intimating
that any but you females ought to take refuge in the boat. The
duty of us men is sufficiently plain, no doubt, and my resolution
has been formed from the first to stand or fall by the blockhouse."

"And did you imagine, Mr. Muir, that two females could row that
heavy boat in a way to escape the bark canoe of an Indian?"

"Ah, my pretty Mabel, love is seldom logical, and its fears and
misgivings are apt to warp the faculties. I only saw your sweet
person in the possession of the means of safety, and overlooked
the want of ability to use them; but you'll not be so cruel, lovely
creature, as to impute to me as a fault my intense anxiety on your
own account."

Mabel had heard enough: her mind was too much occupied with what
had passed that morning, and with her fears, to wish to linger
longer to listen to love speeches, which in her most joyous and
buoyant moments she would have found unpleasant. She took a hasty
leave of her companion, and was about to trip away towards the
hilt of the other woman, when Muir arrested the movement by laying
a hand on her arm.

"One word, Mabel," said he, "before you leave me. This little
flag may, or it may not, have a particular meaning; if it has, now
that we are aware of its being shown, may it not be better to put
it back again, while we watch vigilantly for some answer that may
betray the conspiracy; and if it mean nothing, why, nothing will
follow."

"This may be all right, Mr. Muir, though, if the whole is accidental,
the flag might be the occasion of the fort's being discovered."

Mabel stayed to utter no more; but she was soon out of sight,
running into the hut towards which she had been first proceeding.
The Quartermaster remained on the very spot and in the precise
attitude in which she had left him for quite a minute, first looking
at the bounding figure of the girl and then at the bit of bunting,
which he still held before him in a way to denote indecision. His
irresolution lasted but for this minute, however; for he was soon
beneath the tree, where he fastened the mimic flag to a branch
again, though, from his ignorance of the precise spot from which
it had been taken by Mabel, he left it fluttering from a part of
the oak where it was still more exposed than before to the eyes
of any passenger on the river, though less in view from the island
itself.



CHAPTER XXI.

Each one has had his supping mess,
The cheese is put into the press,
The pans and bowls, clean scalded all,
Reared up against the milk-house wall.
COTTON.


It seemed strange to Mabel Dunham, as she passed along on her way
to find her female companion, that others should be so composed,
while she herself felt as if the responsibilities of life and
death rested on her shoulders. It is true that distrust of June's
motives mingled with her forebodings; but when she came to recall
the affectionate and natural manner of the young Indian girl,
and all the evidences of good faith and sincerity she had seen in
her conduct during the familiar intercourse of their journey, she
rejected the idea with the unwillingness of a generous disposition
to believe ill of others. She saw, however, that she could not put
her companions properly on their guard without letting them into
the secret of her conference with June; and she found herself
compelled to act cautiously and with a forethought to which she
was unaccustomed, more especially in a matter of so much moment.

The soldier's wife was told to transport the necessaries into the
blockhouse, and admonished not to be far from it at any time during
the day. Mabel did not explain her reasons. She merely stated
that she had detected some signs in walking about the island, which
induced her to apprehend that the enemy had more knowledge of its
position than had been previously believed, and that they two at
least, would do well to be in readiness to seek a refuge at the
shortest notice. It was not difficult to arouse the apprehension
of this person, who, though a stout-hearted Scotchwoman, was ready
enough to listen to anything that confirmed her dread of Indian
cruelties. As soon as Mabel believed that her companion was
sufficiently frightened to make her wary, she threw out some hints
touching the inexpediency of letting the soldiers know the extent
of their own fears. This was done with a view to prevent discussions
and inquiries that might embarrass our heroine: she determining
to render her uncle, the Corporal, and his men more cautious,
by adopting a different course. Unfortunately, the British army
could not have furnished a worse person for the particular duty that
he was now required to discharge than Corporal M'Nab, the individual
who had been left in command during the absence of Sergeant Dunham.
On the one hand, he was resolute, prompt, familiar with all the
details of a soldier's life, and used to war; on the other, he
was supercilious as regards the provincials, opinionated on every
subject connected with the narrow limits of his professional practice,
much disposed to fancy the British empire the centre of all that
is excellent in the world, and Scotland the focus of, at least,
all moral excellence in that empire. In short, he was an epitome,
though on a scale suited to his rank, of those very qualities which
were so peculiar to the servants of the Crown that were sent into
the colonies, as these servants estimated themselves in comparison
with the natives of the country; or, in other words, he considered
the American as an animal inferior to the parent stock, and viewed
all his notions of military service, in particular, as undigested
and absurd. A more impracticable subject, therefore, could not well
have offered for the purpose of Mabel, and yet she felt obliged to
lose no time in putting her plan in execution.

"My father has left you a responsible command, Corporal," she said,
as soon as she could catch M'Nab a little apart; "for should the
island fall into the hands of the enemy, not only should we be
captured, but the party that is now out would in all probability
become their prisoners also."

"It needs no journey from Scotland to this place to know the facts
needful to be o' that way of thinking." returned M'Nab drily.

"I do not doubt your understanding it as well as myself, Mr. M'Nab,
but I'm fearful that you veterans, accustomed as you are to dangers
and battles, are a little apt to overlook some of the precautions
that may be necessary in a situation as peculiar as ours."

"They say Scotland is no conquered country, young woman, but
I'm thinking there must be some mistak' in the matter, as we, her
children, are so drowsy-headed and apt to be o'ertaken when we
least expect it."

"Nay, my good friend, you mistake my meaning. In the first place,
I'm not thinking of Scotland at all, but of this island; and then
I am far from doubting your vigilance when you think it necessary
to practise it; but my great fear is that there may be danger to
which your courage will make you indifferent."

"My courage, Mistress Dunham, is doubtless of a very pool quality,
being nothing but Scottish courage; your father's is Yankee, and
were he here among us we should see different preparations, beyond
a doubt. Well, times are getting wrang, when foreigners hold
commissions and carry halberds in Scottish corps; and I no wonder
that battles are lost, and campaigns go wrang end foremost."

Mabel was almost in despair; but the quiet warning of June was
still too vividly impressed on her mind to allow her to yield the
matter. She changed her mode of operating, therefore, still clinging
to the hope of getting the whole party within the blockhouse,
without being compelled to betray the source whence she obtained
her notices of the necessity of vigilance.

"I daresay you are right, Corporal M'Nab," she observed; "for I've
often heard of the heroes of your country, who have been among
the first of the civilized world, if what they tell me of them is
true."

"Have you read the history of Scotland, Mistress Dunham?" demanded
the Corporal, looking up at his pretty companion, for the first
time with something like a smile on his hard, repulsive countenance.

"I have read a little of it, Corporal, but I've heard much more.
The lady who brought me up had Scottish blood in her veins, and
was fond of the subject."

"I'll warrant ye, the Sergeant no' troubled himself to expatiate
on the renown of the country where his regiment was raised?"

"My father has other things to think of, and the little I know was
got from the lady I have mentioned."

"She'll no' be forgetting to tall ye o' Wallace?"

"Of him I've even read a good deal."

"And o' Bruce, and the affair of Bannockburn?"

"Of that too, as well as of Culloden Muir."

The last of these battles was then a recent event, it having actually
been fought within the recollection of our heroine, whose notions
of it, however, were so confused that she scarcely appreciated the
effect her allusion might produce on her companion. She knew it
had been a victory, and had often heard the guests of her patroness
mention it with triumph; and she fancied their feelings would find
a sympathetic chord in those of every British soldier. Unfortunately,
M'Nab had fought throughout that luckless day on the side of the
Pretender; and a deep scar that garnished his face had been left
there by the sabre of a German soldier in the service of the House
of Hanover. He fancied that his wound bled afresh at Mabel's
allusion; and it is certain that the blood rushed to his face in
a torrent, as if it would pour out of his skin at the cicatrix.

"Hoot! hoot awa'!" he fairly shouted, "with your Culloden and
Sherriff muirs, young woman; ye'll no' be understanding the subject
at all, and will manifest not only wisdom but modesty in speaking
o' your ain country and its many failings. King George has some
loyal subjects in the colonies, na doubt, but 'twill be a lang time
before he sees or hears any guid of them."

Mabel was surprised at the Corporal's heat, for she had not the
smallest idea where the shoe pinched; but she was determined not
to give up the point.

"I've always heard that the Scotch had two of the good qualities
of soldiers," she said, "courage and circumspection; and I feel
persuaded that Corporal M'Nab will sustain the national renown."

"Ask yer own father, Mistress Dunham; he is acquaint' with Corporal
M'Nab, and will no' be backward to point out his demerits. We have
been in battle thegither, and he is my superior officer, and has
a sort o' official right to give the characters of his subordinates."

"My father thinks well of you, M'Nab, or he would not have left
you in charge of this island and all it contains, his own daughter
included. Among other things, I well know that he calculates
largely on your prudence. He expects the blockhouse in particular
to be strictly attended to."

"If he wishes to defend the honor of the 55th behind logs, he
ought to have remained in command himsel'; for, to speak frankly,
it goes against a Scotchman's bluid and opinions to be beaten out
of the field even before he is attacked. We are broadsword men,
and love to stand foot to foot with the foe. This American mode
of fighting, that is getting into so much favor, will destroy the
reputation of his Majesty's army, if it no' destroy its spirit."

"No true soldier despises caution. Even Major Duncan himself, than
whom there is none braver, is celebrated for his care of his men."

"Lundie has his weakness, and is fast forgetting the broadsword and
open heaths in his tree and rifle practice. But, Mistress Dunham,
tak' the word of an old soldier, who has seen his fifty-fifth year,
when he talls ye that there is no surer method to encourage your
enemy than to seem to fear him; and that there is no danger in this
Indian warfare that the fancies and imaginations of your Americans
have not enlarged upon, until they see a savage in every bush.
We Scots come from a naked region, and have no need and less
relish for covers, and so ye'll be seeing, Mistress Dunham -- "

The Corporal gave a spring into the air, fell forward on his face,
and rolled over on his back, the whole passing so suddenly that
Mabel had scarcely heard the sharp crack of the rifle that had sent
a bullet through his body. Our heroine did not shriek -- did not
even tremble; for the occurrence was too sudden, too awful, and
too unexpected for that exhibition of weakness; on the contrary,
she stepped hastily forward, with a natural impulse to aid her
companion. There was just enough of life left in M'Nab to betray
his entire consciousness of all that had passed. His countenance
had the wild look of one who had been overtaken by death by surprise;
and Mabel, in her cooler moments, fancied that it showed the tardy
repentance of a willful and obstinate sinner.

"Ye'll be getting into the blockhouse as fast as possible," M'Nab
whispered, as Mabel leaned over him to catch his dying words.

Then came over our heroine the full consciousness of her situation
and of the necessity of exertion. She cast a rapid glance at the
body at her feet, saw that it had ceased to breathe, and fled. It
was but a few minutes' run to the blockhouse, the door of which
Mabel had barely gained when it was closed violently in her face
by Jennie, the soldier's wife, who in blind terror thought only
of her own safety. The reports of five or six rifles were heard
while Mabel was calling out for admittance; and the additional terror
they produced prevented the woman within from undoing quickly the
very fastenings she had been so expert in applying. After a minute's
delay, however, Mabel found the door reluctantly yielding to her
constant pressure, and she forced her slender body through the
opening the instant it was large enough to allow of its passage. By
this time Mabel's heart ceased to beat tulmultuously and she gained
sufficient self-command to act collectedly. Instead of yielding to
the almost convulsive efforts of her companion to close the door
again, she held it open long enough to ascertain that none of her
own party was in sight, or likely on the instant to endeavor to gain
admission: then she allowed the opening to be shut. Her orders
and proceedings now became more calm and rational. But a single
bar was crossed, and Jennie was directed to stand in readiness
to remove even that at any application from a friend. She then
ascended the ladder to the room above, where by means of a loophole
she was enabled to get as good a view of the island as the surrounding
bushes would allow. Admonishing her associate below to be firm
and steady, she made as careful an examination of the environs as
her situation permitted.

To her great surprise, Mabel could not at first see a living soul
on the island, friend or enemy. Neither Frenchman nor Indian was
visible, though a small straggling white cloud that was floating
before the wind told her in which quarter she ought to look for
them. The rifles had been discharged from the direction of the
island whence June had come, though whether the enemy were on that
island, or had actually landed on her own, Mabel could not say.
Going to the loop that commanded a view of the spot where M'Nab
lay, her blood curdled at perceiving all three of his soldiers lying
apparently lifeless at his side. These men had rushed to a common
centre at the first alarm, and had been shot down almost simultaneously
by the invisible foe whom the Corporal had affected to despise.

Neither Cap nor Lieutenant Muir was to be seen. With a beating
heart, Mabel examined every opening through the trees, and ascended
even to the upper story or garret of the blockhouse, where she got
a full view of the whole island, so far as its covers would allow,
but with no better success. She had expected to see the body of
her uncle lying on the grass like those of the soldiers, but it
was nowhere visible. Turning towards the spot where the boat lay,
Mabel saw that it was still fastened to the shore; and then she
supposed that by some accident Muir had been prevented from effecting
his retreat in that quarter. In short, the island lay in the quiet
of the grave, the bodies of the soldiers rendering the scone as
fearful as it was extraordinary.

"For God's holy sake, Mistress Mabel," called out the woman from
below; for, though her fear had become too ungovernable to allow
her to keep silence, our heroine's superior refinement, more than
the regimental station of her father, still controlled her mode
of address, -- "Mistress Mabel, tell me if any of our friends are
living! I think I hear groans that grow fainter and fainter, and
fear that they will all be tomahawked!"

Mabel now remembered that one of the soldiers was this woman's
husband, and she trembled at what might be the immediate effect
of her sorrow, should his death become suddenly known to her. The
groans, too, gave a little hope, though she feared they might come
from her uncle, who lay out of view.

"We are in His holy keeping, Jennie," she answered. "We must trust
in Providence, while we neglect none of its benevolent means of
protecting ourselves. Be careful with the door; on no account open
it without my directions."

"Oh, tell me, Mistress Mabel, if you can anywhere see Sandy! If I
could only let him know that I'm in safety, the guid man would be
easier in his mind, whether free or a prisoner."

Sandy was Jennie's husband, and he lay dead in plain view of the
loop from which our heroine was then looking.

"You no' tell me if you're seeing of Sandy," the woman repeated
from below, impatient at Mabel's silence.

"There are some of our people gathered about the body of M'Nab,"
was the answer; for it seemed sacrilegious in her eyes to tell
a direct untruth under the awful circumstances in which she was
placed.

"Is Sandy amang them?" demanded the woman, in a voice that sounded
appalling by its hoarseness and energy.

"He may be certainly; for I see one, two, three, four, and all in
the scarlet coats of the regiment."

"Sandy!" called out the woman frantically; "why d'ye no' care for
yoursal', Sandy? Come hither the instant, man, and share your
wife's fortunes in weal or woe. It's no' a moment for your silly
discipline and vain-glorious notions of honor! Sandy! Sandy!"

Mabel heard the bar turn, and then the door creaked on its hinges.
Expectation, not to say terror, held her in suspense at the loop,
and she soon beheld Jennie rushing through the bushes in the
direction of the cluster of the dead. It took the woman but an
instant to reach the fatal spot. So sudden and unexpected had been
the blow, that she in her terror did not appear to comprehend its
weight. Some wild and half-frantic notion of a deception troubled
her fancy, and she imagined that the men were trifling with her
fears. She took her husband's hand, and it was still warm, while
she thought a covert smile was struggling on his lip.

"Why will ye fool life away, Sandy?" she cried, pulling at the
arm. "Ye'll all be murdered by these accursed Indians, and you no'
takin' to the block like trusty soldiers! Awa'! awa'! and no' be
losing the precious moments."

In her desperate efforts, the woman pulled the body of her husband
in a way to cause the head to turn completely over, when the small
hole in the temple, caused by the entrance of a rifle bullet, and
a few drops of blood trickling over the skin, revealed the meaning
of her husband's silence. As the horrid truth flashed in its full
extent on her mind, the woman clasped her hands, gave a shriek
that pierced the glades of every island near, and fell at length on
the dead body of the soldier. Thrilling, heartreaching, appalling
as was that shriek, it was melody to the cry that followed it so
quickly as to blend the sounds. The terrific war-whoop arose out
of the covers of the island, and some twenty savages, horrible
in their paint and the other devices of Indian ingenuity, rushed
forward, eager to secure the coveted scalps. Arrowhead was foremost,
and it was his tomahawk that brained the insensible Jennie; and
her reeking hair was hanging at his girdle as a trophy in less than
two minutes after she had quitted the blockhouse. His companions
were equally active, and M'Nab and his soldiers no longer presented
the quiet aspect of men who slumbered. They were left in their
gore, unequivocally butchered corpses.