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“Where ’tother pale brother?” demanded the boy, looking up, and letting the idea that had been most prominent in his mind, previously to the introduction of the chessmen, escape him involuntarily “He sleeps—or if he isn’t fairly asleep, he is in the room where the men do sleep,” returned Deerslayer. “How did my young friend know there was another?”

“See him from the shore. Iroquois have got long eyes—see beyond the clouds—see the bottom of the great spring!”

“Well, the Iroquois are welcome. Two palefaces are prisoners in the camp of your fathers, boy.”

The lad nodded, treating the circumstance with great apparent indifference; though a moment after he laughed as if exulting in the superior address of his own tribe.

“Can you tell me, boy, what your chiefs intend to do with these captives; or haven’t they yet made up their minds?”

The lad looked a moment at the hunter with a little surprise; then he coolly put the end of his forefinger on his own head, just above the left ear, and passed it around his crown, with an accuracy and readiness that showed how well he had been drilled in the peculiar art of his race.

“When?” demanded Deerslayer, whose gorge rose at this cool demonstration of indifference to human life. “And why not take them to your wigwams?”

“Road too long, and full of palefaces. Wigwam full, and scalps sell high. Small scalp, much gold.”

“Well, that explains it—yes, that does explain it. There’s no need of being any plainer. Now, you know, lad, that the oldest of your prisoners is the father of these two young women, and the other is the suitor of one of them. The gals nat‘rally wish to save the scalps of such fri’nds, and they will give them two ivory creatur’s as ransom; one for each scalp. Go back and tell this to your chiefs, and bring me the answer before the sun sets.”

The boy entered zealously into this project, and with a sincerity that left no doubt of his executing his commission with intelligence and promptitude. For a moment he forgot his love of honor, and all his clannish hostility to the British and their Indians, in his wish to have such a treasure in his tribe, and Deerslayer was satisfied with the impression he had made. It is true, the lad proposed to carry one of the elephants with him, as a specimen of the other, but to this his brother negotiator was too sagacious to consent; well knowing that it might never reach its destination if confided to such hands. This little difficulty was soon arranged, and the boy prepared to depart. As he stood on the platform ready to step aboard of the raft, he hesitated, and turned short with a proposal to borrow a canoe, as the means most likely to shorten the negotiation. Deerslayer quietly refused the request, and, after lingering a little longer, the boy rowed slowly away from the castle, taking the direction of a thicket on the shore, that lay less than half a mile distant.3 Deerslayer seated himself on a stool, and watched the progress of the ambassador; sometimes scanning the whole line of the shore, as far as eye could reach, and then placing an elbow on a knee, he remained a long time with his chin resting on the hand.

During the interview between Deerslayer and the lad, a different scene took place in the adjoining room. Hetty had inquired for the Delaware, and being told why and where he remained concealed, she joined him. The reception which Chingachgook gave his visitor was respectful and gentle. He understood her character; and, no doubt, his disposition to be kind to such a being was increased by the hope of learning some tidings of his betrothed. As soon as the girl entered she took a seat, and invited the Indian to place himself near her; then she continued silent, as if she thought it decorous for him to question her, before she consented to speak on the subject she had on her mind. But, as Chingachgook did not understand this feeling, he remained respectfully attentive to anything she might be pleased to tell him.

“You are Chingachgook—the Great Serpent of the Delawares, aren’t you?” the girl at length commenced,