“I don't know that. The white man has his difficulties in getting red-skin habits, quite as much as the Indian in getting white-skin ways. As for the real natur', it is my opinion that neither can actually get that of the other.”      

       “And yet we sailors, who run about the world so much, say there is but one nature, whether it be in the Chinaman or a Dutchman. For my own part, I am much of that way of thinking too; for I have generally found that all nations like gold and silver, and most men relish tobacco.”      

       “Then you seafaring men know little of the red-skins. Have you ever known any of your Chinamen who could sing their death-songs, with their flesh torn with splinters and cut with knives, the fire raging around their naked bodies, and death staring them in the face? Until you can find me a Chinaman, or a Christian man, that can do all this, you cannot find a man with a red-skin natur', let him look ever so valiant, or know how to read all the books that were ever printed.”      

       “It is the savages only that play each other such hellish tricks,” said Master Cap, glancing his eyes about him uneasily at the apparently endless arches of the forest. “No white man is ever condemned to undergo these trials.”      

       “Nay, therein you are again mistaken,” returned the Pathfinder, coolly selecting a delicate morsel of the venison as his bonne bouche;       “for though these torments belong only to the red-skin natur', in the way of bearing them like braves, white-skin natur' may be, and often has been, agonized by them.”      

       “Happily,” said Cap, with an effort to clear his throat, “none of his Majesty's allies will be likely to attempt such damnable cruelties on any       of his Majesty's loyal subjects. I have not served much in the royal navy, it is true; but I have served, and that is something; and, in the way of privateering and worrying the enemy in his ships and cargoes, I've done my full share. But I trust there are no French savages on this side the lake, and I think you said that Ontario is a broad sheet of water?”      

       “Nay, it is broad in our eyes,” returned Pathfinder, not caring to conceal the smile which lighted a face which had been burnt by exposure to a bright red; “though I mistrust that some may think it narrow; and narrow it is, if you 

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