ch as
her fears were aroused by all that had passed.

"You appear to know, or to think you know, all about us, June. But if
Pathfinder be gone, Eau-douce can speak French too. You know Eau-douce;
shall I run and bring him to talk with you?"

"Eau-douce gone too, all but heart; that there." As June said this,
she laughed again; looked in different directions, as if unwilling to
confuse the other, and laid her hand on Mabel's bosom.

Our heroine had often heard of the wonderful sagacity of the Indians,
and of the surprising manner in which they noted all things, while they
appeared to regard none; but she was scarcely prepared for the direction
the discourse had so singularly taken. Willing to change it, and at the
same time truly anxious to learn how great the danger that impended over
them might really be, she rose from the camp-stool on which she had been
seated; and, by assuming an attitude of less affectionate confidence,
she hoped to hear more of that she really desired to learn, and to avoid
allusions to that which she found so embarrassing.

"You know how much or how little you ought to tell me, June," she said;
"and I hope you love me well enough to give me the information I ought
to hear. My dear uncle, too, is on the island, and you are, or ought
to be, his friend as well as mine; and both of us will remember your
conduct when we get back to Oswego."

"Maybe, never get back; who know?" This was said doubtingly, or as
one who lays down an uncertain proposition, and not with a taunt, or a
desire to alarm.

"No one knows what will happen but God. Our lives are in His hands.
Still, I think you are to be His instrument in saving us."

This passed June's comprehension, and she only looked her ignorance; for
it was evident she wished to be of use.

"Blockhouse very good," she repeated, as soon as her countenance ceased
to express uncertainty, laying strong emphasis on the last two words.

"Well, I understand this, June, and will sleep in it to-night. Of course
I am to tell my uncle what you have said?"

The Dew-of-June started, and she discovered a very manifest uneasiness
at the interrogatory.

"No, no, no, no!" she answered, with a volubility and vehemence that was
imitated from the French of the Canadas; "no good to tell Saltwater. He
much talk and long tongue. Thinks woods all water, understand not'ing.
Tell Arrowhead, and June die."

"You do my dear uncle injustice, for he would be as little likely