“We must be ready, we must be ready,” he said.  “There are but three of the scalping devils, and we are five, four of whom may be set down as manful warriors for such a skrimmage.  Eau-douce, do you take the fellow that is painted like death; Chingachgook, I give you the chief; and Arrowhead must keep his eye on the young one.  There must be no mistake, for two bullets in the same body would be sinful waste, with one like the Sergeant’s daughter in danger.  I shall hold myself in resarve against accident, lest a fourth reptile appear, for one of your hands may prove unsteady.  By no means fire until I give the word; we must not let the crack of the rifle be heard except in the last resort, since all the rest of the miscreants are still within hearing.  Jasper, boy, in case of any movement behind us on the bank, I trust to you to run out the canoe with the Sergeant’s daughter, and to pull for the garrison, by God’s leave.”

The Pathfinder had no sooner given these directions than the near approach of their enemies rendered profound silence necessary.  The Iroquois in the river were slowly descending the stream; keeping of necessity near the bushes which overhung the water, while the rustling of leaves and the snapping of twigs soon gave fearful evidence that another party was moving along the bank, at an equally graduated pace; and directly abreast of them.  In consequence of the distance between the bushes planted by the fugitives and the true shore, the two parties became visible to each other when opposite that precise point.  Both stopped, and a conversation ensued, that may be said to have passed directly over the heads of those who were concealed.  Indeed, nothing sheltered the travellers but the branches and leaves of plants, so pliant that they yielded to every current of air, and which a puff of wind a little stronger than common would have blown away.  Fortunately the line of sight carried the eyes of the two parties of savages, whether they stood in the water or on the land, above the bushes, and the leaves appeared blended in a way to excite no suspicion.  Perhaps the very boldness of the expedient alone prevented an immediate exposure.  The conversation which took place was conducted earnestly, but in guarded tones, as if those who spoke wished to defeat the intentions of any listeners.  It was in a dialect that both the Indian warriors beneath, as well as the Pathfinder, understood.  Even Jasper comprehended a portion of what was said.

“The trail is washed away by the water!” said one from below, who stood so near the artificial cover of the fugitives, that he might have been struck by the salmon-spear that lay in the bottom of Jasper’s canoe.  “Water has washed it so clear that a Yengeese hound could not follow.”

“The pale-faces have left the shore in their canoes,” answered the speaker on the bank.

“It cannot be.  The rifles of our warriors below are certain.”