Lloyd Osbourne - "Love, The Fiddler"

Frank Gee Patchin - "The Pony Rider Boys in the Rockies"

Kate Douglas Wiggin - "Homespun Tales"

Frank V. Webster - "The Young Firemen of Lakeville"

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




The sturdy seaman, when he had made sure of the state of
his brother-in-law, and that Mabel, as well as himself, was safe,
was softened nearly to tears. His own appearance he explained by
saying that he had been carelessly guarded, under the impression
that he and the Quartermaster were sleeping under the fumes of liquor
with which they had been plied with a view to keep them quiet in
the expected engagement. Muir had been left asleep, or seeming to
sleep; but Cap had run into the bushes on the alarm of the attack,
and having found Pathfinder's canoe, had only succeeded, at that
moment, in getting to the blockhouse, whither he had come with the
kind intent of escaping with his niece by water. It is scarcely
necessary to say that he changed his plan when he ascertained the
state of the Sergeant, and the apparent security of his present
quarters.

"If the worst comes to the worst, Master Pathfinder," said he, "we
must strike, and that will entitle us to receive quarter. We owe
it to our manhood to hold out a reasonable time, and to ourselves
to haul down the ensign in season to make saving conditions. I
wished Master Muir to do the same thing when we were captured
by these chaps you call vagabonds -- and rightly are they
named, for viler vagabonds do not walk the earth -- "

"You've found out their characters?" interrupted Pathfinder, who
was always as ready to chime in with abuse of the Mingos as with
the praises of his friends. "Now, had you fallen into the hands
of the Delawares, you would have learned the difference."

"Well, to me they seem much of a muchness; blackguards fore and
aft, always excepting our friend the Serpent, who is a gentleman
for an Indian. But, when these savages made the assault on us,
killing Corporal M'Nab and his men as if they had been so many
rabbits, Lieutenant Muir and myself took refuge in one of the holes
of this here island, of which there are so many among the rocks,
and there we remained stowed away like two leaguers in a ship's
hold, until we gave out for want of grub. A man may say that grub
is the foundation of human nature. I desired the Quartermaster to
make terms, for we could have defended ourselves for an hour or
two in the place, bad as it was; but he declined, on the ground
that the knaves wouldn't keep faith if any of them were hurt, and
so there was no use in asking them to. I consented to strike, on
two principles; one, that we might be said to have struck already,
for running below is generally thought to be giving up the ship;
and the other, that we had an enemy in our stomachs that was more
formidable in his attacks than the enemy on deck. Hunger is a
d----ble circumstance, as any man who has lived on it eight-and-forty
hours will acknowledge."

"Uncle," said Mabel in a mournful voice and with an expostulatory
manner, "my poor father is sadly, sadly hurt!"

"True, Magnet, true; I will sit by him, and do my best at consolation.
Are the bars well fastened, girl? for on such an occasion the mind
should be tranquil and undisturbed."

"We are safe, I believe, from all but this heavy blow of Providence."

"Well, then, Magnet, do you go up to the floor above and try to
compose yourself, while Pathfinder runs aloft and takes a look-out
from the cross-trees. Your father may wish to say something to me
in private, and it may be well to leave us alone. These are solemn
scenes, and inexperienced people, like myself, do not always wish
what they say to be overheard."

Although the idea of her uncle's affording religious consolation
by the side of a death-bed certainly never obtruded itself on
the imagination of Mabel, she thought there might be a propriety
in the request with which she was unacquainted, and she complied
accordingly. Pathfinder had already ascended to the roof to make
his survey, and the brothers-in-law were left alone. Cap took a
seat by the side of the Sergeant, and bethought him seriously of
the grave duty he had before him. A silence of several minutes
succeeded, during which brief space the mariner was digesting the
substance of his intended discourse.

"I must say, Sergeant Dunham," Cap at length commenced in his
peculiar manner, "that there has been mismanagement somewhere in
this unhappy expedition; and, the present being an occasion when
truth ought to be spoken, and nothing but the truth, I feel it my
duty to be say as much in plain language. In short, Sergeant, on
this point there cannot well be two opinions; for, seaman as I am,
and no soldier, I can see several errors myself, that it needs no
great education to detect."

"What would you have, brother Cap?" returned the other in a feeble
voice; "what is done is done; and it is now too late to remedy it."

"Very true, brother Dunham, but not to repent of it; the Good Book
tells us it is never too late to repent; and I've always heard
that this is the precious moment. If you've anything on your mind,
Sergeant, hoist it out freely; for, you know, you trust it to a
friend. You were my own sister's husband, and poor little Magnet
is my own sister's daughter; and, living or dead, I shall always
look upon you as a brother. It's a thousand pities that you didn't
lie off and on with the boats, and send a canoe ahead to reconnoitre;
in which case your command would have been saved, and this disaster
would not have befallen us all. Well, Sergeant, we are _all_ mortal;
that is some consolation, I make no doubt; and if you go before a
little, why, we must follow. Yes, that _must_ give you consolation."

"I know all this, brother Cap; and hope I'm prepared to
meet a soldier's fate -- there is poor Mabel -- "

"Ay, ay, that's a heavy drag, I know; but you wouldn't take her
with you if you could, Sergeant; and so the better way is to make
as light of the separation as you can. Mabel is a good girl, and
so was her mother before her; she was my sister, and it shall be
my care to see that her daughter gets a good husband, if our lives
and scalps are spared; for I suppose no one would care about entering
into a family that has no scalps."

"Brother, my child is betrothed; she will become the wife of
Pathfinder."

"Well, brother Dunham, every man has his opinions and his manner
of viewing things; and, to my notion, this match will be anything
but agreeable to Mabel. I have no objection to the age of the man;
I'm not one of them that thinks it necessary to be a boy to make
a girl happy, but, on the whole, I prefer a man of about fifty for
a husband; still there ought not to be any circumstance between
the parties to make them unhappy. Circumstances play the devil with
matrimony, and I set it down as one that Pathfinder don't know as
much as my niece. You've seen but little of the girl, Sergeant,
and have not got the run of her knowledge; but let her pay it out
freely, as she will do when she gets to be thoroughly acquainted,
and you'll fall in with but few schoolmasters that can keep their
luffs in her company."

"She's a good child -- a dear, good child," muttered the Sergeant,
his eyes filling with tears; "and it is my misfortune that I have
seen so little of her."

"She is indeed a good girl, and knows altogether too much for poor
Pathfinder, who is a reasonable man and an experienced man in his
own way; but who has no more idea of the main chance than you have
of spherical trigonometry, Sergeant."

"Ah, brother Cap, had Pathfinder been with us in the boats this
sad affair might not have happened!"

"That is quite likely; for his worst enemy will allow that the man
is a good guide; but then, Sergeant, if the truth must be spoken,
you have managed this expedition in a loose way altogether. You
should have hove-to off your haven, and sent in a boat to reconnoitre,
as I told you before. That is a matter to be repented of, and I
tell it to you, because truth, in such a case, ought to be spoken."

"My errors are dearly paid for, brother; and poor Mabel, I fear,
will be the sufferer. I think, however, that the calamity would
not have happened had there not been treason. I fear me, brother,
that Jasper Eau-douce has played us false."

"That is just my notion; for this fresh-water life must sooner
or later undermine any man's morals. Lieutenant Muir and myself
talked this matter over while we lay in a bit of a hole out here,
on this island; and we both came to the conclusion that nothing
short of Jasper's treachery could have brought us all into this
infernal scrape. Well, Sergeant, you had better compose your mind,
and think of other matters; for, when a vessel is about to enter a
strange port, it is more prudent to think of the anchorage inside
than to be under-running all the events that have turned up during
the v'y'ge. There's the log-book expressly to note all these matters
in; and what stands there must form the column of figures that's
to be posted up for or against us. How now, Pathfinder! is there
anything in the wind, that you come down the ladder like an Indian
in the wake of a scalp?"

The guide raised a finger for silence and then beckoned to Cap to
ascend the first ladder, and to allow Mabel to take his place at
the side of the Sergeant.

"We must be prudent, and we must be bold too," said he in a low
voice. "The riptyles are in earnest in their intention to fire the
block; for they know there is now nothing to be gained by letting
it stand. I hear the voice of that vagabond Arrowhead among them,
and he is urging them to set about their devilry this very night.
We must be stirring, Saltwater, and doing too. Luckily there are
four or five barrels of water in the block, and these are something
towards a siege. My reckoning is wrong, too, or we shall yet reap
some advantage from that honest fellow's, the Sarpent, being at
liberty."

Cap did not wait for a second invitation; but, stealing away, he
was soon in the upper room with Pathfinder, while Mabel took his
post at the side of her father's humble bed. Pathfinder had opened
a loop, having so far concealed the light that it would not expose
him to a treacherous shot; and, expecting a summons, he stood
with his face near the hole, ready to answer. The stillness that
succeeded was at length broken by the voice of Muir.

"Master Pathfinder," called out the Scotchman, "a friend summons you
to a parley. Come freely to one of the loops; for you've nothing
to fear so long as you are in converse with an officer of the 55th."

"What is your will, Quartermaster? what is your will? I know
the 55th, and believe it to be a brave regiment; though I rather
incline to the 60th as my favorite, and to the Delawares more than
to either; but what would you have, Quartermaster? It must be a
pressing errand that brings you under the loops of a blockhouse at
this hour of the night, with the sartainty of Killdeer being inside
of it."

"Oh, you'll no' harm a friend, Pathfinder, I'm certain; and that's
my security. You're a man of judgment, and have gained too great
a name on this frontier for bravery to feel the necessity of
foolhardiness to obtain a character. You'll very well understand,
my good friend, there is as much credit to be gained by submitting
gracefully, when resistance becomes impossible, as by obstinately
holding out contrary to the rules of war. The enemy is too strong
for us, my brave comrade, and I come to counsel you to give up the
block, on condition of being treated as a prisoner of war."

"I thank you for this advice, Quartermaster, which is the more
acceptable as it costs nothing; but I do not think it belongs to
my gifts to yield a place like this while food and water last."

"Well, I'd be the last, Pathfinder, to recommend anything against
so brave a resolution, did I see the means of maintaining it. But
ye'll remember that Master Cap has fallen."

"Not he, not he!" roared the individual in question through another
loop; "and so far from that, Lieutenant, he has risen to the height
of this here fortification, and has no mind to put his head of
hair into the hands of such barbers again, so long as he can help
it. I look upon this blockhouse as a circumstance, and have no
mind to throw it away."

"If that is a living voice," returned Muir, "I am glad to hear it;
for we all thought the man had fallen in the late fearful confusion.
But, Master Pathfinder, although ye're enjoying the society of
our friend Cap, -- and a great pleasure do I know it to be, by the
experience of two days and a night passed in a hole in the earth,
-- we've lost that of Sergeant Dunham, who has fallen, with all
the brave men he led in the late expedition. Lundie would have
it so, though it would have been more discreet and becoming to
send a commissioned officer in command. Dunham was a brave man,
notwithstanding, and shall have justice done his memory. In short,
we have all acted for the best, and that is as much as could be
said in favor of Prince Eugene, the Duke of Marlborough, or the
great Earl of Stair himself."

"You're wrong ag'in, Quartermaster, you're wrong ag'in," answered
Pathfinder, resorting to a ruse to magnify his force. "The Sergeant
is safe in the block too, where one might say the whole family is
collected."

"Well I rejoice to hear it, for we had certainly counted the
Sergeant among the slain. If pretty Mabel is in the block still,
let her not delay an instant, for heaven's sake, in quitting it,
for the enemy is about to put it to the trial by fire. Ye know
the potency of that dread element, and will be acting more like
the discreet and experienced warrior ye're universally allowed to
be, in yielding a place you canna' defend, than in drawing down
ruin on yourself and companions."

"I know the potency of fire, as you call it, Quartermaster; and am
not to be told, at this late hour, that it can be used for something
else besides cooking a dinner. But I make no doubt you've heard
of the potency of Killdeer, and the man who attempts to lay a pile
of brush against these logs will get a taste of his power. As
for arrows, it is not in their gift to set this building on fire,
for we've no shingles on our roof, but good solid logs and green
bark, and plenty of water besides. The roof is so flat, too, as
you know yourself, Quartermaster, that we can walk on it, and so
no danger on that score while water lasts. I'm peaceable enough
if let alone; but he who endivors to burn this block over my head
will find the fire squinched in his own blood."

"This is idle and romantic talk, Pathfinder, and ye'll no maintain
it yourself when ye come to meditate on the realities. I hope
ye'll no' gainsay the loyalty or the courage of the 55th, and I feel
convinced that a council of war would decide on the propriety of
a surrender forthwith. Na, na, Pathfinder, foolhardiness is na mair
like the bravery o' Wallace or Bruce than Albany on the Hudson is
like the old town of Edinbro'."

"As each of us seems to have made up his mind, Quartermaster, more
words are useless. If the riptyles near you are disposed to set
about their hellish job, let them begin at once. They can burn
wood, and I'll burn powder. If I were an Indian at the stake,
I suppose I could brag as well as the rest of them; but, my gifts
and natur' being both white, my turn is rather for doing than
talking. You've said quite enough, considering you carry the
king's commission; and should we all be consumed, none of us will
bear you any malice."

"Pathfinder, ye'll no' be exposing Mabel, pretty Mabel Dunham, to
sic' a calamity!"

"Mabel Dunham is by the side of her wounded father, and God will
care for the safety of a pious child. Not a hair of her head
shall fall, while my arm and sight remain true; and though _you_
may trust the Mingos, Master Muir, I put no faith in them. You've
a knavish Tuscarora in your company there, who has art and malice
enough to spoil the character of any tribe with which he consorts,
though he found the Mingos ready ruined to his hands, I fear. But
enough said; now let each party go to the use of his means and his
gifts."

Throughout this dialogue Pathfinder had kept his body covered, lest
a treacherous shot should be aimed at the loop; and he now directed
Cap to ascend to the roof in order to be in readiness to meet the
first assault. Although the latter used sufficient diligence, he
found no less than ten blazing arrows sticking to the bark, while
the air was filled with the yells and whoops of the enemy. A
rapid discharge of rifles followed, and the bullets came pattering
against the logs, in a way to show that the struggle had indeed
seriously commenced.

These were sounds, however, that appalled neither Pathfinder nor
Cap, while Mabel was too much absorbed in her affliction to feel
alarm. She had good sense enough, too, to understand the nature
of the defences, and fully to appreciate their importance. As
for her father, the familiar noises revived him; and it pained
his child, at such a moment, to see that his glassy eye began to
kindle, and that the blood returned to a cheek it had deserted, as
he listened to the uproar. It was now Mabel first perceived that
his reason began slightly to wander.

"Order up the light companies," he muttered, "and let the grenadiers
charge! Do they dare to attack us in our fort? Why does not the
artillery open on them?"

At that instant the heavy report of a gun burst on the night; and
the crashing of rending wood was heard, as a heavy shot tore the
logs in the room above, and the whole block shook with the force of
a shell that lodged in the work. The Pathfinder narrowly escaped
the passage of this formidable missile as it entered; but when it
exploded, Mabel could not suppress a shriek, for she supposed all
over her head, whether animate or inanimate, destroyed. To increase
her horror, her father shouted in a frantic voice to "charge!"

"Mabel," said Pathfinder, with his head at the trap, "this is true
Mingo work -- more noise than injury. The vagabonds have got the
howitzer we took from the French, and have discharged it ag'in the
block; but fortunately they have fired off the only shell we had,
and there is an ind of its use for the present. There is some
confusion among the stores up in this loft, but no one is hurt.
Your uncle is still on the roof; and, as for myself, I've run the
gauntlet of too many rifles to be skeary about such a thing as a
howitzer, and that in Indian hands."

Mabel murmured her thanks, and tried to give all her attention to
her father, whose efforts to rise were only counteracted by his
debility. During the fearful minutes that succeeded, she was so
much occupied with the care of the invalid that she scarcely heeded
the clamor that reigned around her. Indeed, the uproar was so great,
that, had not her thoughts been otherwise employed, confusion of
faculties rather than alarm would probably have been the consequence.

Cap preserved his coolness admirably. He had a profound and
increasing respect for the power of the savages, and even for the
majesty of fresh water, it is true; but his apprehensions of the
former proceeded more from his dread of being scalped and tortured
than from any unmanly fear of death; and, as he was now on the deck
of a house, if not on the deck of a ship, and knew that there was
little danger of boarders, he moved about with a fearlessness and
a rash exposure of his person that Pathfinder, had he been aware
of the fact, would have been the first to condemn. Instead of keeping
his body covered, agreeably to the usages of Indian warfare, he was
seen on every part of the roof, dashing the water right and left,
with the apparent steadiness and unconcern he would have manifested
had he been a sail trimmer exercising his art in a battle afloat.
His appearance was one of the causes of the extraordinary clamor
among the assailants; who, unused to see their enemies so reckless,
opened upon him with their tongues, like a pack that has the fox
in view. Still he appeared to possess a charmed life; for, though
the bullets whistled around him on every side, and his clothes were
several times torn, nothing cut his skin. When the shell passed
through the logs below, the old sailor dropped his bucket, waved
his hat, and gave three cheers; in which heroic act he was employed
as the dangerous missile exploded. This characteristic feat probably
saved his life; for from that instant the Indians ceased to fire
at him, and even to shoot their flaming arrows at the block, having
taken up the notion simultaneously, and by common consent, that
the "Saltwater" was mad; and it was a singular effect of their
magnanimity never to lift a hand against those whom they imagined
devoid of reason.

The conduct of Pathfinder was very different. Everything he did
was regulated by the most exact calculation, the result of long
experience and habitual thoughtfulness. His person was kept carefully
out of a line with the loops, and the spot that he selected for
his look-out was one quite removed from danger. This celebrated
guide had often been known to lead forlorn hopes: he had once stood
at the stake, suffering under the cruelties and taunts of savage
ingenuity and savage ferocity without quailing; and legends of
his exploits, coolness, and daring were to be heard all along that
extensive frontier, or wherever men dwelt and men contended. But
on this occasion, one who did not know his history and character
might have thought his exceeding care and studied attention to
self-preservation proceeded from an unworthy motive. But such a
judge would not have understood his subject; the Pathfinder bethought
him of Mabel, and of what might possibly be the consequences to that
poor girl should any casualty befall himself. But the recollection
rather quickened his intellect than changed his customary prudence.
He was, in fact, one of those who was so unaccustomed to fear,
that he never bethought him of the constructions others might put
upon his conduct. But while in moments of danger he acted with the
wisdom of the serpent, it was also with the simplicity of a child.

For the first ten minutes of the assault, Pathfinder never raised
the breech of his rifle from the floor, except when he changed his
own position, for he well knew that the bullets of the enemy were
thrown away upon the massive logs of the work; and as he had been
at the capture of the howitzer he felt certain that the savages had
no other shell than the one found in it when the piece was taken.
There existed no reason, therefore, to dread the fire of the
assailants, except as a casual bullet might find a passage through
a loophole. One or two of these accidents did occur, but the balls
entered at an angle that deprived them of all chance of doing any
injury so long as the Indians kept near the block; and if discharged
from a distance, there was scarcely the possibility of one in a
hundred's striking the apertures. But when Pathfinder heard the
sound of mocassined feet and the rustling of brush at the foot of
the building, he knew that the attempt to build a fire against the
logs was about to be renewed. He now summoned Cap from the roof,
where, indeed, all the danger had ceased, and directed him to stand
in readiness with his water at a hole immediately over the spot
assailed.

One less trained than our hero would have been in a hurry to repel
this dangerous attempt also, and might have resorted to his means
prematurely; not so with Pathfinder. His aim was not only to
extinguish the fire, about which he felt little apprehension, but
to give the enemy a lesson that would render him wary during the
remainder of the night. In order to effect the latter purpose, it
became necessary to wait until the light of the intended conflagration
should direct his aim, when he well knew that a very slight effort
of his skill would suffice. The Iroquois were permitted to collect
their heap of dried brush, to pile it against the block, to light
it, and to return to their covers without molestation. All that
Pathfinder would suffer Cap to do, was to roll a barrel filled with
water to the hole immediately over the spot, in readiness to be
used at the proper instant. That moment, however, did not arrive,
in his judgment, until the blaze illuminated the surrounding bushes,
and there had been time for his quick and practised eye to detect
the forms of three or four lurking savages, who were watching the
progress of the flames, with the cool indifference of men accustomed
to look on human misery with apathy. Then, indeed, he spoke.

"Are you ready, friend Cap?" he asked. "The heat begins to strike
through the crevices; and although these green logs are not of
the fiery natur' of an ill-tempered man, they may be kindled into
a blaze if one provokes them too much. Are you ready with the
barrel? See that it has the right cut, and that none of the water
is wasted."

"All ready!" answered Cap, in the manner in which a seaman replies
to such a demand.

"Then wait for the word. Never be over-impatient in a critical
time, nor fool-risky in a battle. Wait for the word."