Bibles? Or do you think God will forget such things?"

A gesture from Rivenoak caused the scattered brands to be collected.
Fresh wood was brought, even the women and children busying themselves
eagerly, in the gathering of dried sticks. The flame was just kindling
a second time, when an Indian female pushed through the circle, advanced
to the heap, and with her foot dashed aside the lighted twigs in time to
prevent the conflagration. A yell followed this second disappointment,
but when the offender turned towards the circle, and presented the
countenance of Hist, it was succeeded by a common exclamation of
pleasure and surprise. For a minute, all thought of pursuing the
business in hand was forgotten. Young and old crowded around the girl,
in haste to demand an explanation of her sudden and unlooked-for return.
It was at this critical instant that Hist spoke to Judith in a low
voice, placed some small object unseen in her hand, and then turned to
meet the salutations of the Huron girls, with whom she was personally
a great favorite. Judith recovered her self possession, and acted
promptly. The small, keen edged knife that Hist had given to the other,
was passed by the latter into the hands of Hetty, as the safest and
least suspected medium of transferring it to Deerslayer. But the feeble
intellect of the last defeated the well-grounded hopes of all three.
Instead of first cutting loose the hands of the victim, and then
concealing the knife in his clothes, in readiness for action at the
most available instant, she went to work herself, with earnestness and
simplicity, to cut the thongs that bound his head, that he might
not again be in danger of inhaling flames. Of course this deliberate
procedure was seen, and the hands of Hetty were arrested, ere she
had more than liberated the upper portion of the captive's body, not
including his arms below the elbows. This discovery at once pointed
distrust towards Hist, and to Judith's surprise, when questioned on the
subject, that spirited girl was not disposed to deny her agency in what
had passed.

"Why should I not help the Deerslayer?" the girl demanded, in the tones
of a firm minded woman. "He is the brother of a Delaware chief; my heart
is all Delaware. Come forth, miserable Briarthorn, and wash the Iroquois
paint from your face; stand before the Hurons the crow that you are. You
would eat the carrion of your own dead, rather than starve. Put him face
to face with Deerslay