thout bringing with them a single
trace of a human habitation.

Of all on board, the Pathfinder viewed the scene with the most unmingled
delight. His eyes feasted on the endless line of forest, and more than
once that day, notwithstanding he found it so grateful to be near Mabel,
listening to her pleasant voice, and echoing, in feelings at least, her
joyous laugh, did his soul pine to be wandering beneath the high arches
of the maples, oaks, and lindens, where his habits had induced him
to fancy lasting and true joys were only to be found. Cap viewed the
prospect differently; more than once he expressed his disgust at there
being no lighthouses, church-towers, beacons, or roadsteads with their
shipping. Such another coast, he protested, the world did not contain;
and, taking the Sergeant aside, he gravely assured him that the region
could never come to anything, as the havens were neglected, the rivers
had a deserted and useless look, and that even the breeze had a smell of
the forest about it, which spoke ill of its properties.

But the humors of the different individuals in her did not stay the
speed of the _Scud_: when the sun was setting, she was already a hundred
miles on her route towards Oswego, into which river Sergeant Dunham now
thought it his duty to go, in order to receive any communications that
Major Duncan might please to make. With a view to effect this purpose,
Jasper continued to hug the shore all night; and though the wind began
to fail him towards morning, it lasted long enough to carry the cutter
up to a point that was known to be but a league or two from the fort.
Here the breeze came out light at the northward, and the cutter hauled a
little from the land, in order to obtain a safe offing should it come on
to blow, or should the weather again get to be easterly.

When the day dawned, the cutter had the mouth of the Oswego well under
the lee, distant about two miles; and just as the morning gun from the
fort was fired, Jasper gave the order to ease off the sheets, and to
bear up for his port. At that moment a cry from the forecastle drew all
eyes towards the point on the eastern side of the outlet, and there,
just without the range of shot from the light guns of the works, with
her canvas reduced to barely enough to keep her stationary, lay the
_Montcalm_, evidently in waiting for their appearance.

To pass her was impossible, for by filling her sails the French ship
could have intercepted them