s winning influence was lost in the feeble light. It at once
created a sort of confidence between them, and the discourse was
continued on the part of the hunter, without the lively consciousness
of the character of this coquette of the wilderness, with which it had
certainly commenced.

"You are a man of deeds, and not of words, I see plainly, Deerslayer,"
continued the beauty, taking her seat near the spot where the other
stood, "and I foresee we shall be very good friends. Hurry Harry has a
tongue, and, giant as he is, he talks more than he performs."

"March is your fri'nd, Judith; and fri'nds should be tender of each
other, when apart."

"We all know what Hurry's friendship comes to! Let him have his own way
in everything, and he's the best fellow in the colony; but 'head him
off,' as you say of the deer, and he is master of everything near him
but himself. Hurry is no favorite of mine, Deerslayer; and I dare say,
if the truth was known, and his conversation about me repeated, it would
be found that he thinks no better of me than I own I do of him."

The latter part of this speech was not uttered without uneasiness. Had
the girl's companion been more sophisticated, he might have observed the
averted face, the manner in which the pretty little foot was agitated,
and other signs that, for some unexplained reason, the opinions of March
were not quite as much a matter of indifference to her as she thought
fit to pretend. Whether this was no more than the ordinary working of
female vanity, feeling keenly even when it affected not to feel at all,
or whether it proceeded from that deeply-seated consciousness of right
and wrong which God himself has implanted in our breasts that we may
know good from evil, will be made more apparent to the reader as we
proceed in the tale. Deerslayer felt embarrassed. He well remembered the
cruel imputations left by March's distrust; and, while he did not wish
to injure his associate's suit by exciting resentment against him, his
tongue was one that literally knew no guile. To answer without saying
more or less than he wished, was consequently a delicate duty.

"March has his say of all things in natur', whether of fri'nd or foe,"
slowly and cautiously rejoined the hunter. "He's one of them that speak
as they feel while the tongue's a-going, and that's sometimes different
from what they'd speak if they took time to consider. Give me a
Delaware, Judith, for one that reflects and ruminat