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“It would have been sad indeed, to lose you
in such a manner, my old friend,” said Oliver,
catching his breath for utterance. “Up and
away! even now we may be too late; the flames
are circling round the point of the rock below,
and unless we can pass there, our only chance
must be over the precipice. Away! away! shake
off your apathy, John, for now is the time of
need.”

Mohegan pointed towards Elizabeth, who, forgetting
her danger, had shrunk back to a projection
of the rock, so soon as she recognised the
sounds of Edwards' voice, and said, with something
like awakened animation—

“Save her—leave John to die.”

“Her! whom mean you?” cried the youth,
turning quickly to the place the other indicated;—
but when he saw the figure of Elizabeth, bending
towards him in an attitude that powerfully
spoke her terror, blended with her reluctance to
meet him in such a place, the shock for a moment
deprived him of speech.

“Miss Temple!” he cried, when he found

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words; “you here! is such a death reserved for
you!”

“No, no, no—no death, I hope, for any of us,
Mr. Edwards,” she replied, endeavouring to speak
calmly, and rallying her thoughts for the emergency.
“There is smoke, but still no fire to
harm us. Let us endeavour to retire.”

“Take my arm,” said Edwards; “there must
be an opening in some direction for your retreat.
Are you equal to the effort?”

“Certainly. You surely magnify the danger,
Mr. Edwards. Lead me out the way you came.”

“I will—I will,” cried the youth, with a kind
of hysterical utterance. “No, no—there is no
danger—I have alarmed you unnecessarily.”

“But shall we leave the Indian—can we leave
him here, as he says, to die?”

An expression of painful emotion crossed the
face of the young man, who stopped, and cast a
longing look at Mohegan; but, dragging his
companion after him, even against her will, he
pursued his way, with enormous strides, towards
the pass by which he had just entered the circle of
flame.

“Do not regard him,” he said, in those horrid
tones that denote a desperate calmness; “he is
used to the woods, and such scenes; he will escape
up the mountain—over the rock—or he can
remain where he is in safety.”

“You thought not so this moment, Edwards!
Do not leave him there to meet with such a
death,” cried Elizabeth, fixing a look on the
countenance of her conductor, that seemed to distrust
his sanity.

“An Indian burn! who ever heard of an Indian
dying by fire! an Indian cannot burn; the
idea is ridiculous. Hasten, hasten, Miss Temple,
or the smoke may incommode you.”

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“Edwards! your look, your eye, terrifies me!
tell me the danger; is it greater than it seems?
I am equal to any trial.”

“If we reach the point of yon rock before that
sheet of fire, we are safe, Miss Temple!” exclaimed
the young man, in a voice that burst without
the bounds of his forced composure. “Fly! the
struggle is for your life!”

The place of the interview between Miss Temple
and the Indian has been already described as
one of those platforms of rock which form a sort of
terrace in the mountains of that country, and the
face of it, we have said, was both high and perpendicular.
Its shape was nearly a natural arc,
the ends of which blended with the mountain, at
points where its sides were less abrupt in their descent.
It was round one of these terminations of
the sweep of the rock that Edwards had ascended,
and it was towards the same place that he
urged Elizabeth to a desperate exertion of her
speed.

Immense clouds of white smoke had been pouring
over the summit of the mountain, and had
concealed the approach and ravages of the element;
but a crackling sound drew the eyes of
Miss Temple, as she flew over the ground, supported
by the young man, towards the outline of
smoke, where she already perceived the waving
flames shooting forward from the vapour, now
flaring high in the air, and then bending to the
earth, seeming to light into combustion every
stick and shrub on which they breathed. The
sight aroused them both to redoubled efforts; but,
unfortunately, there was a collection of the tops of
trees, old and dried, which lay directly across
their course; and, at the very moment when both
had thought their safety insured, an eddying of
the warm currents of the air swept a forked tongue

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of flame across the pile, which lighted at
the touch; and when they reached the spot, the
flying pair were opposed by the surly roaring of
a body of fire, as if a furnace were glowing in
their path. They recoiled from the heat, and
stood on a point of the rock, gazing in a sort of
stupor at the flames, which were spreading rapidly
down the mountain, whose side soon became a
sheet of living fire. It was dangerous for one
clad in the light and airy dress of Elizabeth to
approach even to the vicinity of the raging element;
and those flowing robes, that gave such
softness and grace to her form, seemed now to be
formed for the instruments of her destruction.

The villagers were accustomed to resort to that
hill in quest of timber and fuel; in procuring
which, it was their usage to take only the bodies
of the trees, leaving the tops and branches to decay
under the operations of the weather. Much
of the hill was, consequently, covered with such
light fuel for the flames, which, having been
scorching under the sun for the last two months,
ignited with a touch. Indeed, in some cases,
there did not appear to be any contact between
the fire and these piles, but the flame seemed to
dart from heap to heap, as the fabulous fire of the
temple is represented to relumine its neglected
lamp.

There was beauty as well as terror in the
sight, and Elizabeth and the youth stood viewing
the progress of the desolation, with a strange
mixture of horror and interest. Edwards, however,
shortly roused himself to new exertions, and,
drawing his companion after him, they skirted the
edge of the smoke, the young man penetrating
frequently into its dense volumes in search of a
passage, but in every instance without success.
In this manner they proceeded in a semicircle

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around the upper part of the terrace, until, arriving
at the verge of the precipice, opposite to the
point where Edwards had ascended, the horrid
conviction burst on both at the same instant, that
they were completely encircled by the fire. So
long as a single pass up or down the mountain
was unexplored, hope had invigorated them with
her secret influence; but when retreat seemed to
be absolutely impracticable, the horror of their
situation broke upon Elizabeth as powerfully as if
she had hitherto considered the danger nothing.

“This mountain is doomed to be fatal to me!”
she whispered, rather than uttered aloud; “we
shall find our graves on it!”

“Say not so, Miss Temple; there is yet hope,”
returned the youth, in the same tone, while the
vacant, horrid expression of his eye, contradicted
his words; “let us return to the point of the rock;
there is, there must be, some place about it where we
can descend.”

“Lead me there,” exclaimed Elizabeth; “let
us leave no effort untried.” She did not wait for
his compliance, but turning, retraced her steps
to the brow of the precipice, murmuring to herself,
in suppressed hysterical sobs, “My father—
my poor, my distracted father!”

Edwards was by her side in an instant, and
with aching eyes he examined into every fissure in
the crags, in quest of some opening that might offer
the facilities of flight. But the smooth, even
surface of the rocks afforded hardly a resting
place for a foot, much less those continued projections
which would have been necessary for a
descent of nearly a hundred feet. Edwards was
not slow in feeling the conviction that this hope
was also futile, and, with a kind of feverish despair,
that still urged him to action, he turned to
some new expedient.

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“There is nothing left, Miss Temple,” he said,
in a hollow accent, “but to endeavour to lower
you from this place to the rock beneath. If
Natty were here, or even that Indian could be
roused, their ingenuity and long practice would
easily devise methods by which to do it; but I
am a child, at this moment, in every thing but
daring. Where shall I find means? This dress
of mine is so light, and there is so little of it—then
the blanket of Mohegan. We must try—we must
try—any thing is better than to see you a victim
to such a death!”

“And what shall become of you!” said Elizabeth.
“Indeed, indeed, neither you nor John
must be the sacrifice to my safety.”

He heard her not, for he was already by the
side of Mohegan, who yielded his blanket without
a question, retaining his seat with Indian dignity
and composure, though his own situation was
even more critical than that of the others. The
blanket was cut into shreds, and the fragments
fastened together; the loose linen jacket of the
youth, and the light muslin shawl of Elizabeth,
were attached to them, and the whole thrown
over the rocks, with the rapidity of lightning;
but the united pieces did not reach half way to
the bottom.

“It will not do—it will not do!” cried Elizabeth;
“for me there is no hope! The fire comes
slowly, but certainly. See! it destroys the very
earth before it!”

Had the flames spread on that rock with half
the quickness with which they leaped from bush
to tree, in other parts of the mountain, our
painful task would have soon ended; for they
would have swept off the victims, who were
suffering doubly under the anticipations of
their approaching fate. But the peculiarity of

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their situation afforded Elizabeth and her companion
the respite, of which they availed themselves
to make the efforts we have recorded.

The thin covering of earth over the rock on
which they stood, supported but a scanty and faded
herbage, and most of the trees that had found
root in the fissures had already died, during the
intense heats of preceding summers. Those
which still retained the appearance of life, bore a
few dry and withered leaves, that were drained of
their nourishment; while the others were merely
the wrecks of pines, oaks, and maples. No better
materials to feed the fire could be found, had
there been a communication with the flames; but
the ground was destitute of the leaves and boughs
that led the destructive element like a torrent
over the remainder of the hill. As auxiliary to
this scarcity of fuel, there was one of the large
springs which abound in that country, gushing out
of the side of the ascent above, which, after creeping
sluggishly along the level land, saturating the
mossy covering of the rock with moisture, swept
round the base of the little cone that formed the
pinnacle of the mountain, and, entering the canopy
of smoke near one of the terminations of the
terrace, found its way to the lake, not by dashing
from rock to rock, but by the secret channels of the
earth. It would rise to the surface, here and there,
in the wet seasons, when it exhibited a mimic torrent,
overflowing the ground for some distance;
but in the droughts of summer, it was to be traced
only by the bogs and moss that announced
the proximity of water. When the fire reached
this barrier, it was compelled to pause, until
a concentration of its heat could overcome the
moisture, like an army impatiently waiting the
operations of a battering train, to open its way to
death and desolation.

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That fatal moment seemed now to have arrived;
for the hissing streams of the spring appeared to be
nearly exhausted, and the moss of the rocks was
already curling under the intense heat that was
thrown across the little spot of wet ground, while
the fragments of bark that yet clung to the dead
trees, began to separate from their trunks, and fall
to the ground in crumbling masses. The air
seemed quivering with rays of heat which might be
seen playing along the parched stems of the trees.
The excited imagination of Elizabeth, as she stood
on the verge of the precipice, and gazed about her,
viewing the approach of their powerful enemy,
fancied every tree and herb near her on the point
of ignition. There were moments when dark
clouds of smoke would sweep along the little
terrace, and as the eye lost its power, the other
senses contributed to give effect to the fearful horror
of the scene. At such moments, the roaring of
the flames, the crackling of the furious element, with
the tearing of falling branches, and, occasionally,
the thundering echoes of some prostrated tree,
united to alarm the victims. Of the three, however,
the youth appeared much the most agitated.
Elizabeth, having relinquished entirely the idea
of escape, was fast obtaining that resigned composure,
with which the most delicate of her sex
are known to meet unavoidable evils; while Mohegan,
who was much nearer to the danger,
maintained his seat with the invincible resignation
of an Indian warrior. Once or twice the eye of
the aged chief, which was ordinarily fixed in the
direction of the distant hills, turned towards the
young pair, who seemed doomed to so early a
death, with a slight indication of pity crossing
his composed features, but it would immediately
revert again to its former gaze, as if already

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looking into the womb of futurity. Much of the
time he was chanting a kind of low dirge, in the
Delaware tongue, using the deep and remarkably
guttural tones of his people.

“At such a moment, Mr. Edwards, all earthly
distinctions end,” whispered Elizabeth; “persuade
John to move nearer to us—let us die together.”

“I cannot—he will not stir,” returned the
youth, in the same horridly still tones. “He
considers this as the happiest moment of his life.
He is past seventy; and has been decaying rapidly
for some time; he received some injury in chasing
that unlucky deer, too, on the lake. Oh! Miss
Temple, that was an unlucky chase indeed! it
has led, I fear, to this awful scene.”

The smile that beamed on the lovely features of
Elizabeth was celestial, as she answered, in a
soft, soothing voice, “Why name such a trifle
now—at this moment the heart is dead to all
earthly emotions!”

“If any thing could reconcile a man, in the
vigour and pride of manhood, to this death,”
cried the youth with fervour, “it would be to
meet it in such company!”

“Talk not so, Edwards, talk not so,” interrupted
Miss Temple, “I am unworthy of it; and it is
unjust to yourself. We must die; yes—yes—we
must die—it is the will of God, and let us endeavour
to submit like his own children.”

“Die!” the youth rather shrieked than exclaimed,
“No—no—there must be hope yet—you must
not, shall not die.”

“In what way can we escape?” asked Elizabeth,
pointing, with a look of heavenly composure, towards
the fire. “Observe! the flame is crossing
the barrier of wet ground—it comes slowly,

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Edwards, but surely.—Ah! see! the tree! the tree
is already lighted!”

Her words were too true. The heat of the
conflagration had, at length, overcome the resistance
of the spring, and the fire was slowly stealing
along the half-dried moss; while a dead pine
kindled with the touch of a forked flame, that,
for a moment, wreathed around the stem of
the tree, as it whirled, in one of its evolutions,
under the influence of the air. The effect was instantaneous
and magical. The flames danced along
the parched trunk of the pine, like lightning quivering
on a chain, and immediately a column of
living fire was raging on the terrace. It soon
spread from tree to tree, and the scene was evidently
drawing to a close. The log on which
Mohegan was seated lighted at its farther end,
and the Indian appeared to be surrounded by
the fire. Still he was unmoved. As his body
was unprotected, his sufferings must have been
great, but his fortitude was superior to all.
His voice could yet be heard, raising its tones,
even in the midst of these horrors. Elizabeth
turned her head from the sight, and faced the
valley. Furious eddies of wind were created by
the heat, and just at the moment, the canopy of
fiery smoke that overhung the valley, was cleared
away, leaving a distinct view of the peaceful
village beneath them.

“My father!—My father!” shrieked Elizabeth.
“Oh! this—this surely might have been spared
me—but I submit.”

The distance was not too great, for the figure
of Judge Temple to be seen, standing in his
own grounds, and, apparently, contemplating, in
perfect unconsciousness of the danger of his child,
the mountain in flames. This sight was still

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more painful than the approaching danger; and
Elizabeth again faced the hill.

“My intemperate warmth has done this?” cried
Edwards, in the accents of despair. “If I had
possessed but a moiety of your heavenly resignation,
Miss Temple, all might yet have been
well.”

“Name it not—name it not,” she said. “It is
now of no avail. We must die, Edwards, we
must die—let us do so as Christians. But—no—
you may yet escape, perhaps. Your dress is not
so fatal as mine. Fly! leave me. An opening
may yet be found for you, possibly—certainly it
is worth the effort. Fly! leave me—but stay!
You will see my father; my poor! my bereaved
father! Say to him, then, Edwards, say to him,
all that can appease his anguish. Tell him
that I died happy and collected; that I have gone
to my beloved mother; that the hours of this life
are as nothing when balanced in the scales of
eternity. Say how we shall meet again. And
say,” she continued, dropping her voice, that had
risen with her feelings, as if conscious of her
worldly weaknesses, “how dear, how very dear,
was my love for him. That it was near, too near,
to my love for God.”

The youth listened to her touching accents, but
moved not. In a moment he found utterance and
replied:

“And is it me that you bid to leave you! me,
to leave you on the edge of the grave! Oh!
Miss Temple, how little have you known me,” he
cried, dropping on his knees at her feet, and gathering
her flowing robe in his arms, as if to
shield her from the flames. “I have been driven
to the woods in despair; but your society has
tamed the lion within me. If I have wasted my

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time in degradation, 'twas you that charmed me
to it. If I have forgotten my name and family,
your form supplied the place of memory. If I have
forgotten my wrongs, 'twas you that taught me
charity. No—no—dearest Elizabeth, I may die
with you, but I can never leave you!”

Elizabeth moved not, nor answered. It was
plain that her thoughts had been of heaven. The
recollection of her father, and her regrets at their
separation, had been mellowed by a holy sentiment,
that lifted her above the level of earthly
things, and she was fast losing the weakness of
her sex, in the near view of eternity. But as
the maiden, standing in her extremity, listened to
these words, she became once more woman.
The blood gathered slowly, again, in those
cheeks, that had, in anticipation of the tyrant's
triumph, assumed the livid appearance of death,
until they glowed with the loveliness of her beauty.
She struggled with herself against these feelings,
and smiled, as she thought she was shaking off
the last lingering feeling of her nature, when the
world, and all its seductions, rushed again to her
heart, with the sounds of a human voice, crying
in piercing tones—

“Gal! where be ye, gal! gladden the heart
of an old man, if ye yet belong to 'arth!”

“List!” said Elizabeth, “'tis the Leather-stocking;
he seeks me!”

“'Tis Natty!” shouted Edwards, springing on
his feet, “and we may yet be saved!”

A wide and circling flame glared on their eyes
for a moment, even above the fire of the woods,
and a loud report followed, that was succeeded
by a comparative stillness.

“'Tis the canister! 'tis the powder.” cried
the same voice, evidently approaching them.

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“'Tis the canister, and the precious child is
lost!”

At the next instant Natty rushed through the
steams of the spring, and appeared on the terrace,
without his deer skin cap, his hair burnt to his
head, his shirt of country check, black, and filled
with holes, and his red features of a deeper colour
than ever, by the heat he had encountered.

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