e of attention. But when he felt the fingers of Heyward
moving gently along his own naked arm, he struck up the limb of the
young man, and uttering a piercing cry as he darted beneath it, plunged,
at a single bound, into the opposite thicket. At the next instant the
form of Chingachgook appeared from the bushes, looking like a spectre in
its paint, and glided across the path in swift pursuit. Next followed
the shout of Uncas, when the woods were lighted by a sudden flash, that
was accompanied by the sharp report of the hunter's rifle.

CHAPTER V.

"In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself."

_Merchant of Venice._

The suddenness of the flight of his guide, and the wild cries of the
pursuers, caused Heyward to remain fixed, for a few moments, in inactive
surprise. Then recollecting the importance of securing the fugitive, he
dashed aside the surrounding bushes, and pressed eagerly forward to lend
his aid in the chase. Before he had, however, proceeded a hundred yards,
he met the three foresters already returning from their unsuccessful
pursuit.

"Why so soon disheartened!" he exclaimed; "the scoundrel must be
concealed behind some of these trees, and may yet be secured. We are not
safe while he goes at large."

"Would you set a cloud to chase the wind?" returned the disappointed
scout; "I heard the imp, brushing over the dry leaves, like a black
snake, and blinking a glimpse of him, just over ag'in yon big pine, I
pulled as it might be on the scent; but 'twouldn't do! and yet for a
reasoning aim, if anybody but myself had touched the trigger, I should
call it a quick sight; and I may be accounted to have experience in
these matters, and one who ought to know. Look at this sumach; its
leaves are red, though everybody knows the fruit is in the yellow
blossom, in the month of July!"

"'Tis the blood of Le Subtil! he is hurt, and may yet fall!"

"No, no," returned the scout, in decided disapprobation of this opinion,
"I rubbed the bark off a limb, perhaps, but the creature leaped the
longer for it. A rifle-bullet acts on a running animal, when it barks
him, much the same as one of your spurs on a horse; that is, it quickens
motion, and puts life into the flesh, instead of taking it away. But
when it cuts the ragged hole, after a bound or two, there is, commonly,
a stagnation of further leaping, be it Indian or be it deer!"

"W