than in finding it where there is. But the regular troops are by
no means particular, and half the time they don't know the difference
between a trail and a path, though one is a matter for the eye,
while the other is little more than scent."

"Then you are the friend my father promised to send to meet us?"

"If you are Sergeant Dunham's daughter, the great Prophet of the
Delawares never uttered more truth."

"I am Mabel; and yonder, hid by the trees, are my uncle, whose name
is Cap, and a Tuscarora called Arrowhead. We did not hope to meet
you until we had nearly reached the shores of the lake."

"I wish a juster-minded Indian had been your guide," said Pathfinder;
"for I am no lover of the Tuscaroras, who have travelled too
far from the graves of their fathers always to remember the Great
Spirit; and Arrowhead is an ambitious chief. Is the Dew-of-June
with him?"

"His wife accompanies us, and a humble and mild creature she is."

"Ay, and true-hearted; which is more than any who know him will say
of Arrowhead. Well, we must take the fare that Providence bestows,
while we follow the trail of life. I suppose worse guides might
have been found than the Tuscarora; though he has too much Mingo
blood for one who consorts altogether with the Delawares."

"It is, then, perhaps, fortunate we have met," said Mabel.