occupy us, and
that will keep useless thoughts out of the mind."

"And you will forget this--forget me--no, not forget me, either,
Pathfinder; but you will resume your old pursuits, and cease to think a
girl of sufficient importance to disturb your peace?"

"I never knowed it afore, Mabel; but girls are of more account in this
life than I could have believed. Now, afore I knowed you, the new-born
babe did not sleep more sweetly than I used; my head was no sooner on
the root, or the stone, or mayhap on the skin, than all was lost to the
senses, unless it might be to go over in the night the business of
the day in a dream like; and there I lay till the moment came to be
stirring, and the swallows were not more certain to be on the wing with
the light, than I to be afoot at the moment I wished to be. All this
seemed a gift, and might be calculated on even in the midst of a Mingo
camp; for I've been outlying in my time, in the very villages of the
vagabonds."

"And all this will return to you, Pathfinder, for one so upright and
sincere will never waste his happiness on a mere fancy. You will dream
again of your hunts, of the deer you have slain, and of the beaver you
have taken."

"Ah's me, Mabel, I wish never to dream again! Before we met, I had a
sort of pleasure in following up the hounds, in fancy, as it might
be; and even in striking a trail of the Iroquois--nay, I've been in
skrimmages and ambushments, in thought like, and found satisfaction in
it, according to my gifts; but all those things have lost their charms
since I've made acquaintance with you. Now, I think no longer of
anything rude in my dreams; but the very last night we stayed in the
garrison I imagined I had a cabin in a grove of sugar maples, and at
the root of every tree was a Mabel Dunham, while the birds among the
branches sang ballads instead of the notes that natur' gave, and even
the deer stopped to listen. I tried to shoot a fa'n, but Killdeer missed
fire, and the creatur' laughed in my face, as pleasantly as a young girl
laughs in her merriment, and then it bounded away, looking back as if
expecting me to follow."

"No more of this, Pathfinder; we'll talk no more of these things," said
Mabel, dashing the tears from her eyes: for the simple, earnest manner
in which this hardy woodsman betrayed the deep hold she had taken of his
feelings nearly proved too much for her own generous heart. "Now, let
us look for my father; he cannot be distant,