ke of the Psalmist to have its weight at such a moment?"

Encouraged by his opinion, Alice did what her pious inclinations and her
keen relish for gentle sounds, had before so strongly urged. The book
was open at a hymn not ill adapted to their situation, and in which the
poet, no longer goaded by his desire to excel the inspired king of
Israel, had discovered some chastened and respectable powers. Cora
betrayed a disposition to support her sister, and the sacred song
proceeded, after the indispensable preliminaries of the pitch-pipe and
the tune had been duly attended to by the methodical David.

The air was solemn and slow. At times it rose to the fullest compass of
the rich voices of the females, who hung over their little book in holy
excitement, and again it sank so low, that the rushing of the waters ran
through their melody, like a hollow accompaniment. The natural taste and
true ear of David governed and modified the sounds to suit the confined
cavern, every crevice, and cranny of which was filled with the thrilling
notes of their flexible voices. The Indians riveted their eyes on the
rocks, and listened with an attention that seemed to turn them into
stone. But the scout, who had placed his chin in his hand, with an
expression of cold indifference, gradually suffered his rigid features
to relax, until, as verse succeeded verse, he felt his iron nature
subdued, while his recollection was carried back to boyhood, when his
ears had been accustomed to listen to similar sounds of praise, in the
settlements of the colony. His roving eyes began to moisten, and before
the hymn was ended, scalding tears rolled out of fountains that had long
seemed dry, and followed each other down those cheeks, that had oftener
felt the storms of heaven than any testimonials of weakness. The singers
were dwelling on one of those low, dying chords, which the ear devours
with such greedy rapture, as if conscious that it is about to lose them,
when a cry, that seemed neither human nor earthly, rose in the outward
air, penetrating not only the recesses of the cavern, but to the inmost
hearts of all who heard it. It was followed by a stillness apparently as
deep as if the waters had been checked in their furious progress, at
such a horrid and unusual interruption.

"What is it?" murmured Alice, after a few moments of terrible suspense.

"What is it?" repeated Heyward aloud.

Neither Hawkeye nor the Indians made any reply. They listened, a