"Thank you, June, thank you!" he said; "'tis well meant, though it's useless.But it is time to quit this place.To-morrow we shall depart.You will go with us, for now you've got to feel reason."June assented in the meek manner of an Indian woman, and she withdrew to pass the remainder of her time near the grave of Arrowhead.Regardless of the hour and the season, the young widow did not pillow her head during the whole of that autumnal night.She sat near the spot that held the remains of her husband, and prayed, in the manner of her people, for his success on the endless path on which he had so lately gone, and for their reunion in the land of the just.Humble and degraded as she would have seemed in the eyes of the sophisticated and unreflect-ing, the image of God was on her soul, and it vindicated its divine origin by aspirations and feelings that would have surprised those who, feigning more, feel less.
In the morning the three departed, Pathfinder earnest and intelligent in all he did, the Great Serpent silent and imitative, and June meek, resigned, but sorrowful.They went in two canoes, that of the woman being abandoned:
Chingachgook led the way, and Pathfinder followed, the course being up stream.Two days they paddled westward, and as many nights they encamped on islands.Fortu-nately the weather became mild, and when they reached the lake it was found smooth and glassy as a pond.It was the Indian summer, and the calms, and almost the bland-ness of June, slept in the hazy atmosphere.
On the morning of the third day they passed the mouth of the Oswego, where the fort and the sleeping ensign in-vited them in vain to enter.Without casting a look aside, Chingachgook paddled past the dark waters of the river, and Pathfinder still followed in silent industry.The ramparts were crowded with spectators; but Lundie, who knew the persons of his old friends, refused to allow them to be even hailed.
It was noon when Chingachgook entered a little bay where the _Scud_ lay at anchor, in a sort of roadstead.Asmall ancient clearing was on the shore; and near the margin of the lake was a log dwelling, recently and com-pletely, though rudely fitted up.There was an air of fron-tier comfort and of frontier abundance around the place, though it was necessarily wild and solitary.Jasper stood on the shore; and when Pathfinder landed, he was the first to take him by the hand.The meeting was simple, but very cordial.No questions were asked, it being ap-parent that Chingachgook had made the necessary expla-nantions.Pathfinder never squeezed his friend's hand more cordially than in this interview; and he even laughed cordially in his face as he told him how happy and well he appeared.
"Where is she, Jasper? where is she?" the guide at length whispered, for at first he had seemed to be afraid to trust himself with the question.
"She is waiting for us in the house, my dear friend, where you see that June has already hastened before us.""June may use a lighter step to meet Mabel, but she can-not carry a lighter heart.And so, lad, you found the chap-lain at the garrison, and all was soon settled?""We were married within a week after we left you, and Master Cap departed next day.You have forgotten to in-quire about your friend Saltwater."
"Not I, not I; the Sarpent has told me all that: and then I love to hear so much of Mabel and her happiness, I do.Did the child smile or did she weep when the cere-mony was over?"
"She did both, my friend; but -- "
"Yes, that's their natur', tearful and cheerful.Ah's me! they are very pleasant to us of the woods; and I do believe I should think all right, whatever Mabel might do.
And do you think, Jasper, that she thought of me at all on that joyful occasion?""I know she did, Pathfinder; and she thinks of you and talks of you daily, almost hourly.None love you as we do.""I know few love me better than yourself, Jasper:
