"That must never be, dear June; I would rather you should say no more than run this risk.""Blockhouse good place to sleep, good place to stay.""Do you mean that I may save my life by keeping in the blockhouse, June? Surely, surely, Arrowhead will not hurt you for telling me that.He cannot wish me any great harm, for I never injured him.""Arrowhead wish no harm to handsome pale-face," re-turned June, averting her face; and, though she always spoke ih the soft, gentle voice of an Indian girl, now per-mitting its notes to fall so low as to cause them to sound melancholy and timid."Arrowhead love pale-face girl."Mabel blushed, she knew not why, and for a moment her questions were repressed by a feeling of inherent deli-cacy.But it was necessary to know more, for her appre-hensions had been keenly awakened, and she resumed her inquiries.
"Arrowhead can have no reason to love or to hate _me_,"she said."Is he near you?"
"Husband always near wife, here," said June, laying her hand on her heart.
"Excellent creature! But tell me, June, ought I to keep in the blockhouse to-day -- this morning -- now?""Blockhouse very good; good for women.Blockhouse got no scalp.""I fear I understand you only too well, June.Do you wish to see my father?""No here; gone away."
"You cannot know that, June; you see the island is full of his soldiers.""No full; gone away," -- here June held up four of her fingers, -- "so many red-coats.""And Pathfinder? would you not like to see the Path-finder? He can talk to you in the Iroquois tongue.""Tongue gone wid him," said June, laughing; "keep tongue in his mout'."There was something so sweet and contagious in the in-fantine laugh of an Indian girl, that Mabel could not re-frain from joining in it, much as her fears were aroused by all that had passed.
"You appear to know, or to think you know, all about us, June.But if Pathfinder be gone, Eau-douce can speak French too.You know Eau-douce; shall I run and bring him to talk with you?""Eau-douce gone too, all but heart; that there." As June said this, she laughed again; looked in different di-rections, as if unwilling to confuse the other, and laid her hand on Mabel's bosom.
Our heroine had often heard of the wonderful sagacity of the Indians, and of the surprising manner in which they noted all things, while they appeared to regard none;but she was scarcely prepared for the direction the dis-course had so singularly taken.Willing to change it, and at the same time truly anxious to learn how great the danger that impended over them might really be, she rose from the camp-stool on which she had been seated; and, by assuming an attitude of less affectionate confidence, she hoped to hear more of that she really desired to learn, and to avoid allusions to that which she found so embar-rassing.
"You know how much or how little you ought to tell me, June," she said; "and I hope you love me well enough to give me the information I ought to hear.My dear uncle, too, is on the island, and you are, or ought to be, his friend as well as mine; and both of us will remember your conduct when we get back to Oswego.""Maybe, never get back; who know?" This was said doubtingly, or as one who lays down an uncertain propo-sition, and not with a taunt, or a desire to alarm.
"No one knows what will happen but God.Our lives are in His hands.Still, I think you are to be His instru-ment in saving us."
This passed June's comprehension, and she only looked her ignorance; for it was evident she wished to be of use.
"Blockhouse very good," she repeated, as soon as her countenance ceased to express uncertainty, laying strong emphasis on the last two words.
"Well, I understand this, June, and will sleep in it to-night.Of course I am to tell my uncle what you have said?"The Dew-of-June started, and she discovered a very manifest uneasiness at the interrogatory.
"No, no, no, no!" she answered, with a volubility and vehemence that was imitated from the French of the Can-adas; "no good to tell Saltwater.He much talk and long tongue.Thinks woods all water, understand not'ing.
Tell Arrowhead, and June die."
"You do my dear uncle injustice, for he would be as little likely to betray you as any one.""No understand.Saltwater got tongue, but no eyes, no ears, no nose -- not'ing but tongue, tongue, tongue!"Although Mabel did not exactly coincide in this opinion, she saw that Cap had not the confidence of the young In-dian woman, and that it was idle to expect she would con-sent to his being admitted to their interview.
"You appear to think you know our situation pretty well, June," Mabel continued; "have you been on the island before this visit?""Just come."
"How then do you know that what you say is true?
my father, the Pathfinder, and Eau-douce may all be here within sound of my voice, if I choose to call them.""All gone," said June positively, smiling good-humoredly at the same time.
"Nay, this is more than you can say certainly, not hav-ing been over the island to examine it."
"Got good eyes; see boat with men go away -- see ship with Eau-douce.""Then you have been some time watching us: I think, however, you have not counted them that remain."June laughed, held up her four fingers again, and then pointed to her two thumbs; passing a finger over the first, she repeated the words "red-coats;" and touching the last, she added, "Saltwater," "Quartermaster." All this was being very accurate, and Mabel began to entertain serious doubts as to the propriety of her permitting her visitor to depart without her becoming more explicit.Still it was so repugnant to her feelings to abuse the confidence this gentle and affectionate creature had evidently reposed in her, that Mabel had no sooner admitted the thought of summoning her uncle, than she rejected it as unworthy of herself and unjust to her friend.To aid this good reso-lution, too, there was the certainty that June would reveal nothing, but take refuge in a stubborn silence, if any at-tempt were made to coerce her.
