suspense; though
the scout saw fit to select it as a fit occasion to read a lecture
to his more youthful associates on the art of using firearms with
discretion.

"Of all we'pons," he commenced, "the long barreled, true-grooved,
soft-metaled rifle is the most dangerous in skillful hands, though it
wants a strong arm, a quick eye, and great judgment in charging, to put
forth all its beauties. The gunsmiths can have but little insight into
their trade when they make their fowling-pieces and short horsemen's--"

He was interrupted by the low but expressive "hugh" of Uncas.

"I see them, boy, I see them!" continued Hawkeye; "they are gathering
for the rush, or they would keep their dingy backs below the logs. Well,
let them," he added, examining his flint; "the leading man certainly
comes on to his death, though it should be Montcalm himself!"

At that moment the woods were filled with another burst of cries, and at
the signal four savages sprang from the cover of the driftwood. Heyward
felt a burning desire to rush forward to meet them, so intense was the
delirious anxiety of the moment; but he was restrained by the deliberate
examples of the scout and Uncas.

When their foes, who had leaped over the black rocks that divided them,
with long bounds, uttering the wildest yells, were within a few rods,
the rifle of Hawkeye slowly rose among the shrubs, and poured out its
fatal contents. The foremost Indian bounded like a stricken deer, and
fell headlong among the clefts of the island.

"Now, Uncas!" cried the scout, drawing his long knife, while his quick
eyes began to flash with ardor, "take the last of the screeching imps;
of the other two we are sartain!"

He was obeyed; and but two enemies remained to be overcome. Heyward had
given one of his pistols to Hawkeye, and together they rushed down a
little declivity toward their foes; they discharged their weapons at the
same instant, and equally without success.

"I know'd it! and I said it!" muttered the scout, whirling the despised
little implement over the falls with bitter disdain. "Come on, ye bloody
minded hell-hounds! ye meet a man without a cross!"

The words were barely uttered, when he encountered a savage of gigantic
stature, of the fiercest mien. At the same moment, Duncan found himself
engaged with the other, in a similar contest of hand to hand. With ready
skill, Hawkeye and his antagonist each grasped that uplifted arm of
the other which held the dang