were removed and the stones lifted—for Indian cunning was known frequently to adopt these objects as covers, labouring with the utmost patience and industry to conceal each footstep as they proceeded. Still no discovery was made. At length Uncas, whose activity had enabled him to achieve his portion of the task the soonest, raked the earth across the turbid little rill which ran from the spring, and diverted its course into another channel. So soon as its narrow bed below the dam was dry, he stooped over it with keen and curious eyes. A cry of exultation immediately announced the success of the young warrior. The whole party crowded to the spot, where Uncas pointed out the impression of a moccasin in the rich and moist alluvion.
“The lad will be an honour to his people!” said Hawk-eye, regarding the trail with as much admiration as a naturalist would, expend on the tusk of a mammoth, or the rib of a mastoden; “ay, and a thorn in the sides of the Hurons. Yet that is not the footstep of an Indian! the weight is too much on the heel, and the
