The Pathfinder

Chapter 21

Each one has had his supping mess,

The cheese is put into the press,

The pans and bowls, clean scalded all,

Reared up against the milk-house wall.

COTTON.

It seemed strange to Mabel Dunham, as she passed along on her way

to find her female companion, that others should be so composed,

while she herself felt as if the responsibilities of life and

death rested on her shoulders. It is true that distrust of June's

motives mingled with her forebodings; but when she came to recall

the affectionate and natural manner of the young Indian girl,

and all the evidences of good faith and sincerity she had seen in

her conduct during the familiar intercourse of their journey, she

rejected the idea with the unwillingness of a generous disposition

to believe ill of others. She saw, however, t