prompt:
Chapter: "There, ye wise saints, behold your light, your star,
    Ye would be dupes and victims and ye are.
    Is it enough?  or, must I, while a thrill
    Lives in your sapient bosoms, cheat you still?"

    Thomas Moore, Lalla Rookh, "The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan"

The fire, the canoe, and the spring, near which Deerslayer commenced his
retreat, would have stood in the angles of a triangle of tolerably equal
sides. The distance from the fire to the boat was a little less than the
distance from the fire to the spring, while the distance from the spring
to the boat was about equal to that between the two points first named.
This, however, was in straight lines, a means of escape to which the
fugitives could not resort. They were obliged to have recourse to
a detour in order to get the cover of the bushes, and to follow the
curvature of the beach. Under these disadvantages, then, the hunter
commenced his retreat, disadvantages that he felt to be so much the
greater from his knowledge of the habits of all Indians, who rarely fail
in cases of sudden alarms, more especially when in the midst of cover,
immediately to throw out flankers, with a view to meet their foes at all
points, and if possible to turn their rear. That some such course was
now adopted he believed from the tramp of feet, which not only came up
the ascent, as related, but were also heard, under the first impulse,
diverging not only towards the hill in the rear, but towards the
extremity of the point, in a direction opposite to that he was about
to take himself. Promptitude, consequently became a matter of the last
importance, as the parties might meet on the strand, before the fugitive
could reach the canoe.

Notwithstanding the pressing nature of the emergency, Deerslayer
hesitated a single instant, ere he plunged into the bushes that lined
the shore. His feelings had been awakened by the whole scene, and a
sternness of purpose had come over him, to which he was ordinarily
a stranger. Four dark figures loomed on the ridge, drawn against the
brightness of the fire, and an enemy might have been sacrificed at a
glance. The Indians had paused to gaze into the gloom, in search of the
screeching hag, and with many a man less given to reflection than the
hunter, the death of one of them would have been certain. Luckily he was
more prudent. Although the rifle dropped a little towards the foremost
of his pursuers, he did not aim or fire, but disappeared in the
cover. To gain the beach, and to follow it round to the place where
Chingachgook was already in the canoe, with Hist, anxiously waiting his
appearance, occupied but a moment. Laying his rifle in the bottom of the
canoe, Deerslayer stooped to give the latter a vigorous shove from the
shore, when a powerful Indian leaped through the bushes, alighting like
a panther on his back. Everything was now suspended by a hair; a false
step ruining all. With a generosity that would have rendered a Roman
illustrious throughout all time, but which, in the career of one so
simple and humble, would have been forever lost to the world but
for this unpretending legend, Deerslayer threw all his force into a
desperate effort, shoved the canoe off with a power that sent it a
hundred feet from the shore, as it might be in an instant, and fell
forward into the lake, himself, face downward; his assailant necessarily
following him.

Although the water was deep within a few yards of the beach, it was not
more than breast high, as close in as the spot where the two combatants
fell. Still this was quite sufficient to destroy one who had sunk, under
the great disadvantages in which Deerslayer was placed. His hands were
free, however, and the savage was compelled to relinquish his hug,
to keep his own face above the surface. For half a minute there was a
desperate struggle, like the floundering of an alligator that has just
seized some powerful prey, and then both stood erect, grasping each
other's arms, in order to prevent the use of the deadly knife in
the darkness. What might have been the issue of this severe personal
struggle cannot be known, for half a dozen savages came leaping into
the water to the aid of their friend, and Deerslayer yielded himself a
prisoner, with a dignity that was as remarkable as his self-devotion.

To quit the lake and lead their new captive to the fire occupied the
Indians but another minute. So much engaged were they all with the
struggle and its consequences, that the canoe was unseen, though it
still lay so near the shore as to render every syllable that was uttered
perfectly intelligible to the Delaware and his betrothed; and the whole
party left the spot, some continuing the pursuit after Hist, along the
beach, though most proceeded to the light. Here Deerslayer's antagonist
so far recovered his breath and his recollection, for he had been
throttled nearly to strangulation, as to relate the manner in which the
girl had got off. It was now too late to assail the other fugitives, for
no sooner was his friend led into the bushes than the Delaware placed
his paddle into the water, and the light canoe glided noiselessly away,
holding its course towards the centre of the lake until safe from shot,
after which it sought the Ark. When Deerslayer reached the fire, he
found himself surrounded by no less than eight grim savages, among
whom was his old acquaintance Rivenoak. As soon as the latter caught a
glimpse of the captive's countenance, he spoke apart to his companions,
and a low but general exclamation of pleasure and surprise escaped them.
They knew that the conqueror of their late friend, he who had fallen on
the opposite side of the lake, was in their hands, and subject to their
mercy, or vengeance. There was no little admiration mingled in the
ferocious looks that were thrown on the prisoner; an admiration that
was as much excited by his present composure, as by his past deeds.
This scene may be said to have been the commencement of the great and
terrible reputation that Deerslayer, or Hawkeye, as he was afterwards
called, enjoyed among all the tribes of New York and Canada; a
reputation that was certainly more limited in its territorial and
numerical extent, than those which are possessed in civilized life, but
which was compensated for what it wanted in these particulars, perhaps,
by its greater justice, and the total absence of mystification and
management.

The arms of Deerslayer were not pinioned, and he was left the free use
of his hands, his knife having been first removed. The only precaution
that was taken to secure his person was untiring watchfulness, and a
strong rope of bark that passed from ankle to ankle, not so much
to prevent his walking, as to place an obstacle in the way of his
attempting to escape by any sudden leap. Even this extra provision
against flight was not made until the captive had been brought to the
light, and his character ascertained. It was, in fact, a compliment
to his prowess, and he felt proud of the distinction. That he might be
bound when the warriors slept he thought probable, but to be bound
in the moment of capture showed that he was already, and thus early,
attaining a name. While the young Indians were fastening the rope, he
wondered if Chingachgook would have been treated in the same manner, had
he too fallen into the hands of the enemy. Nor did the reputation of the
young pale-face rest altogether on his success in the previous
combat, or in his discriminating and cool manner of managing the late
negotiation, for it had received a great accession by the occurrences
of the night. Ignorant of the movements of the Ark, and of the accident
that had brought their fire into view, the Iroquois attributed the
discovery of their new camp to the vigilance of so shrewd a foe. The
manner in which he ventured upon the point, the abstraction or escape of
Hist, and most of all the self-devotion of the prisoner, united to
the readiness with which he had sent the canoe adrift, were so many
important links in the chain of facts, on which his growing fame was
founded. Many of these circumstances had been seen, some had been
explained, and all were understood.

While this admiration and these honors were so unreservedly bestowed on
Deerslayer, he did not escape some of the penalties of his situation.
He was permitted to seat himself on the end of a log, near the fire,
in order to dry his clothes, his late adversary standing opposite,
now holding articles of his own scanty vestments to the heat, and now
feeling his throat, on which the marks of his enemy's fingers were still
quite visible. The rest of the warriors consulted together, near at
hand, all those who had been out having returned to report that no signs
of any other prowlers near the camp were to be found. In this state
of things, the old woman, whose name was Shebear, in plain English,
approached Deerslayer, with her fists clenched and her eyes flashing
fire. Hitherto, she had been occupied with screaming, an employment
at which she had played her part with no small degree of success, but
having succeeded in effectually alarming all within reach of a pair of
lungs that had been strengthened by long practice, she next turned her
attention to the injuries her own person had sustained in the struggle.
These were in no manner material, though they were of a nature to arouse
all the fury of a woman who had long ceased to attract by means of the
gentler qualities, and who was much disposed to revenge the hardships
she had so long endured, as the neglected wife and mother of savages, on
all who came within her power. If Deerslayer had not permanently injured
her, he had temporarily caused her to suffer, and she was not a person
to overlook a wrong of this nature, on account of its motive.

"Skunk of the pale-faces," commenced this exasperated and semi-poetic
fury, shaking her fist under the nose of the impassable hunter, "you are
not even a woman. Your friends the Delawares are only women, and you are
their sheep. Your own people will not own you, and no tribe of redmen
would have you in their wigwams; you skulk among petticoated warriors.
You slay our brave friend who has left us?--No--his great soul scorned
to fight you, and left his body rather than have the shame of slaying
you! But the blood that you spilt when the spirit was not looking on,
has not sunk into the ground. It must be buried in your groans. What
music do I hear? Those are not the wailings of a red man!--no red
warrior groans so much like a hog. They come from a pale-face
throat--a Yengeese bosom, and sound as pleasant as girls
singing--Dog--skunk--woodchuck-mink--hedgehog--pig--toad--spider--yengee--"

Here the old woman, having expended her breath and exhausted her
epithets, was fain to pause a moment, though both her fists were shaken
in the prisoner's face, and the whole of her wrinkled countenance was
filled with fierce resentment. Deerslayer looked upon these impotent
attempts to arouse him as indifferently as a gentleman in our own state
of society regards the vituperative terms of a blackguard: the one party
feeling that the tongue of an old woman could never injure a warrior,
and the other knowing that mendacity and vulgarity can only permanently
affect those who resort to their use; but he was spared any further
attack at present, by the interposition of Rivenoak, who shoved aside
the hag, bidding her quit the spot, and prepared to take his seat at
the side of his prisoner. The old woman withdrew, but the hunter well
understood that he was to be the subject of all her means of annoyance,
if not of positive injury, so long as he remained in the power of his
enemies, for nothing rankles so deeply as the consciousness that an
attempt to irritate has been met by contempt, a feeling that is usually
the most passive of any that is harbored in the human breast. Rivenoak
quietly took the seat we have mentioned, and, after a short pause, he
commenced a dialogue, which we translate as usual, for the benefit of
those readers who have not studied the North American languages.

"My pale-face friend is very welcome," said the Indian, with a familiar
nod, and a smile so covert that it required all Deerslayer's vigilance
to detect, and not a little of his philosophy to detect unmoved; "he is
welcome. The Hurons keep a hot fire to dry the white man's clothes by."

"I thank you, Huron--or Mingo, as I most like to call you," returned the
other, "I thank you for the welcome, and I thank you for the fire. Each
is good in its way, and the last is very good, when one has been in a
spring as cold as the Glimmerglass. Even Huron warmth may be pleasant,
at such a time, to a man with a Delaware heart."

"The pale-face--but my brother has a name? So great a warrior would not
have lived without a name?"

"Mingo," said the hunter, a little of the weakness of human nature
exhibiting itself in the glance of his eye, and the colour on his
cheek--"Mingo, your brave called me Hawkeye, I suppose on account of a
quick and sartain aim, when he was lying with his head in my lap, afore
his spirit started for the Happy Hunting Grounds."

"'Tis a good name! The hawk is sure of his blow. Hawkeye is not a woman;
why does he live with the Delawares?"

"I understand you, Mingo, but we look on all that as a sarcumvention of
some of your subtle devils, and deny the charge. Providence placed me
among the Delawares young, and, 'bating what Christian usages demand of
my colour and gifts, I hope to live and die in their tribe. Still I do
not mean to throw away altogether my natyve rights, and shall strive to
do a pale-face's duty, in red-skin society."

"Good; a Huron is a red-skin, as well as a Delaware. Hawkeye is more of
a Huron than of a woman."

"I suppose you know, Mingo, your own meaning; if you don't I make no
question 'tis well known to Satan. But if you wish to get any thing
out of me, speak plainer, for bargains can not be made blindfolded, or
tongue tied."

"Good; Hawkeye has not a forked tongue, and he likes to say what he
thinks. He is an acquaintance of the Muskrat," this was the name by
which all the Indians designated Hutter--"and has lived in his wigwam.
But he is not a friend. He wants no scalps, like a miserable Indian, but
fights like a stout-hearted pale-face. The Muskrat is neither white, nor
red. Neither a beast nor a fish. He is a water snake; sometimes in the
spring and sometimes on the land. He looks for scalps, like an outcast.
Hawkeye can go back and tell him how he has outwitted the Hurons, how he
has escaped, and when his eyes are in a fog, when he can't see as far
as from his cabin to the shore, then Hawkeye can open the door for the
Hurons. And how will the plunder be divided? Why, Hawkeye, will carry
away the most, and the Hurons will take what he may choose to leave
behind him. The scalps can go to Canada, for a pale-face has no
satisfaction in them."

"Well, well, Rivenoak--for so I hear 'em tarm you--This is plain
English, enough, though spoken in Iroquois. I understand all you mean,
now, and must say it out-devils even Mingo deviltry! No doubt, 'twould
be easy enough to go back and tell the Muskrat that I had got away from
you, and gain some credit, too, by the expl'ite."

"Good. That is what I want the pale-face to do."

"Yes--yes--That's plain enough. I know what you want me to do, without
more words. When inside the house, and eating the Muskrat's bread, and
laughing and talking with his pretty darters, I might put his eyes into
so thick a fog, that he couldn't even see the door, much less the land."

"Good! Hawkeye should have been born a Huron! His blood is not more than
half white!"

"There you're out, Huron; yes, there you're as much out, as if you
mistook a wolf for a catamount. I'm white in blood, heart, natur' and
gifts, though a little red-skin in feelin's and habits. But when old
Hutter's eyes are well befogged, and his pretty darters perhaps in a
deep sleep, and Hurry Harry, the Great Pine as you Indians tarm him, is
dreaming of any thing but mischief, and all suppose Hawkeye is acting as
a faithful sentinel, all I have to do is set a torch somewhere in sight
for a signal, open the door, and let in the Hurons, to knock 'em all on
the head."

"Surely my brother is mistaken. He cannot be white! He is worthy to be a
great chief among the Hurons!"

"That is true enough, I dares to say, if he could do all this. Now,
harkee, Huron, and for once hear a few honest words from the mouth of a
plain man. I am Christian born, and them that come of such a stock, and
that listen to the words that were spoken to their fathers and will be
spoken to their children, until 'arth and all it holds perishes, can
never lend themselves to such wickedness. Sarcumventions in war, may
be, and are, lawful; but sarcumventions, and deceit, and treachery among
fri'inds are fit only for the pale-face devils. I know that there are
white men enough to give you this wrong idee of our natur', but such
be ontrue to their blood and gifts, and ought to be, if they are not,
outcasts and vagabonds. No upright pale-face could do what you wish,
and to be as plain with you as I wish to be, in my judgment no upright
Delaware either. With a Mingo it may be different."

The Huron listened to this rebuke with obvious disgust, but he had his
ends in view, and was too wily to lose all chance of effecting them by
a precipitate avowal of resentment. Affecting to smile, he seemed to
listen eagerly, and he then pondered on what he had heard.

"Does Hawkeye love the Muskrat?" he abruptly demanded; "Or does he love
his daughters?"

"Neither, Mingo. Old Tom is not a man to gain my love, and, as for the
darters, they are comely enough to gain the liking of any young man,
but there's reason ag'in any very great love for either. Hetty is a good
soul, but natur' has laid a heavy hand on her mind, poor thing."

"And the Wild Rose!" exclaimed the Huron--for the fame of Judith's
beauty had spread among those who could travel the wilderness, as well
as the highway by means of old eagles' nests, rocks, and riven trees
known to them by report and tradition, as well as among the white
borderers, "And the Wild Rose; is she not sweet enough to be put in the
bosom of my brother?"

Deerslayer had far too much of the innate gentleman to insinuate
aught against the fair fame of one who, by nature and position was so
helpless, and as he did not choose to utter an untruth, he preferred
being silent. The Huron mistook the motive, and supposed that
disappointed affection lay at the bottom of his reserve. Still bent on
corrupting or bribing his captive, in order to obtain possession of the
treasures with which his imagination filled the Castle, he persevered in
his attack.

"Hawkeye is talking with a friend," he continued. "He knows that
Rivenoak is a man of his word, for they have traded together, and trade
opens the soul. My friend has come here on account of a little string
held by a girl, that can pull the whole body of the sternest warrior?"

"You are nearer the truth, now, Huron, than you've been afore, since we
began to talk. This is true. But one end of that string was not fast to
my heart, nor did the Wild Rose hold the other."

"This is wonderful! Does my brother love in his head, and not in his
heart? And can the Feeble Mind pull so hard against so stout a warrior?"

"There it is ag'in; sometimes right, and sometimes wrong! The string you
mean is fast to the heart of a great Delaware; one of Mohican stock in
fact, living among the Delawares since the disparsion of his own people,
and of the family of Uncas--Chingachgook by name, or Great Sarpent.
He has come here, led by the string, and I've followed, or rather come
afore, for I got here first, pulled by nothing stronger than fri'ndship;
which is strong enough for such as are not niggardly of their feelin's,
and are willing to live a little for their fellow creatur's, as well as
for themselves."

"But a string has two ends--one is fast to the mind of a Mohican; and
the other?"

"Why the other was here close to the fire, half an hour since.
Wah-ta-Wah held it in her hand, if she didn't hold it to her heart."

"I understand what you mean, my brother," returned the Indian gravely,
for the first time catching a direct clue to the adventures of the
evening. "The Great Serpent, being strongest, pulled the hardest, and
Hist was forced to leave us."

"I don't think there was much pulling about it," answered the other,
laughing, always in his silent manner, with as much heartiness as if he
were not a captive, and in danger of torture or death--"I don't think
there was much pulling about it; no I don't. Lord help you, Huron!
He likes the gal, and the gal likes him, and it surpassed Huron
sarcumventions to keep two young people apart, where there was so strong
a feelin' to bring 'em together."

"And Hawkeye and Chingachgook came into our camp on this errand, only?"

"That's a question that'll answer itself, Mingo! Yes, if a question
could talk it would answer itself, to your parfect satisfaction. For
what else should we come? And yet, it isn't exactly so, neither; for we
didn't come into your camp at all, but only as far as that pine, there,
that you see on the other side of the ridge, where we stood watching
your movements, and conduct, as long as we liked. When we were ready,
the Sarpent gave his signal, and then all went just as it should, down
to the moment when yonder vagabond leaped upon my back. Sartain; we come
for that, and for no other purpose, and we got what we come for; there's
no use in pretending otherwise. Hist is off with a man who's the next
thing to her husband, and come what will to me, that's one good thing
detarmined."

"What sign, or signal, told the young maiden that her lover was nigh?"
asked the Huron with more curiosity than it was usual for him to betray.

Deerslayer laughed again, and seem'd to enjoy the success of the
exploit, with as much glee as if he had not been its victim.

"Your squirrels are great gadabouts, Mingo," he cried still
laughing--"yes, they're sartainly great gadabouts! When other folk's
squirrels are at home and asleep, yourn keep in motion among the trees,
and chirrup and sing, in a way that even a Delaware gal can understand
their musick! Well, there's four legged squirrels, and there's two
legged squirrels, and give me the last, when there's a good tight string
atween two hearts. If one brings 'em together, t'other tells when to
pull hardest!"

The Huron looked vexed, though he succeeded in suppressing any violent
exhibition of resentment. He now quitted his prisoner and, joining
the rest of the warriors, he communicated the substance of what he had
learned. As in his own case, admiration was mingled with anger at the
boldness and success of their enemies. Three or four of them ascended
the little acclivity and gazed at the tree where it was understood the
adventurers had posted themselves, and one even descended to it, and
examined for foot prints around its roots, in order to make sure that
the statement was true. The result confirmed the story of the captive,
and they all returned to the fire with increased wonder and respect. The
messenger who had arrived with some communication from the party above,
while the two adventurers were watching the camp, was now despatched
with some answer, and doubtless bore with him the intelligence of all
that had happened.

Down to this moment, the young Indian who had been seen walking in
company with Hist and another female had made no advances to any
communication with Deerslayer. He had held himself aloof from his
friends, even, passing near the bevy of younger women, who were
clustering together, apart as usual, and conversed in low tones on the
subject of the escape of their late companion. Perhaps it would be true
to say that these last were pleased as well as vexed at what had just
occurred. Their female sympathies were with the lovers, while their
pride was bound up in the success of their own tribe. It is possible,
too, that the superior personal advantages of Hist rendered her
dangerous to some of the younger part of the group, and they were not
sorry to find she was no longer in the way of their own ascendency. On
the whole, however, the better feeling was most prevalent, for neither
the wild condition in which they lived, the clannish prejudices of
tribes, nor their hard fortunes as Indian women, could entirely conquer
the inextinguishable leaning of their sex to the affections. One of the
girls even laughed at the disconsolate look of the swain who might fancy
himself deserted, a circumstance that seemed suddenly to arouse his
energies, and induce him to move towards the log, on which the prisoner
was still seated, drying his clothes.

"This is Catamount!" said the Indian, striking his hand boastfully on
his naked breast, as he uttered the words in a manner to show how much
weight he expected them to carry.

"This is Hawkeye," quietly returned Deerslayer, adopting the name by
which he knew he would be known in future, among all the tribes of the
Iroquois. "My sight is keen; is my brother's leap long?"

"From here to the Delaware villages. Hawkeye has stolen my wife; he must
bring her back, or his scalp will hang on a pole, and dry in my wigwam."

"Hawkeye has stolen nothing, Huron. He doesn't come of a thieving breed,
nor has he thieving gifts. Your wife, as you call Wah-ta-Wah, will never
be the wife of any red-skin of the Canadas; her mind is in the cabin of
a Delaware, and her body has gone to find it. The catamount is actyve I
know, but its legs can't keep pace with a woman's wishes."

"The Serpent of the Delawares is a dog--he is a poor bull trout that
keeps in the water; he is afraid to stand on the hard earth, like a
brave Indian!"

"Well, well, Huron, that's pretty impudent, considering it's not an hour
since the Sarpent stood within a hundred feet of you, and would have
tried the toughness of your skin with a rifle bullet, when I pointed you
out to him, hadn't I laid the weight of a little judgment on his hand.
You may take in timorsome gals in the settlements, with your catamount
whine, but the ears of a man can tell truth from ontruth."

"Hist laughs at him! She sees he is lame, and a poor hunter, and he has
never been on a war path. She will take a man for a husband, and not a
fish."

"How do you know that, Catamount? how do you know that?" returned
Deerslayer laughing. "She has gone into the lake, you see, and maybe she
prefars a trout to a mongrel cat. As for war paths, neither the Sarpent
nor I have much exper'ence, we are ready to own, but if you don't call
this one, you must tarm it, what the gals in the settlements tarm it,
the high road to matrimony. Take my advice, Catamount, and s'arch for
a wife among the Huron women; you'll never get one with a willing mind
from among the Delawares."

Catamount's hand felt for his tomahawk, and when the fingers reached
the handle they worked convulsively, as if their owner hesitated between
policy and resentment. At this critical moment Rivenoak approached, and
by a gesture of authority, induced the young man to retire, assuming his
former position, himself, on the log at the side of Deerslayer. Here he
continued silent for a little time, maintaining the grave reserve of an
Indian chief.

"Hawkeye is right," the Iroquois at length began; "his sight is so
strong that he can see truth in a dark night, and our eyes have been
blinded. He is an owl, darkness hiding nothing from him. He ought not to
strike his friends. He is right."

"I'm glad you think so, Mingo," returned the other, "for a traitor, in
my judgment, is worse than a coward. I care as little for the Muskrat,
as one pale-face ought to care for another, but I care too much for him
to ambush him in the way you wished. In short, according to my idees,
any sarcumventions, except open-war sarcumventions, are ag'in both law,
and what we whites call 'gospel', too."

"My pale-face brother is right; he is no Indian, to forget his Manitou
and his colour. The Hurons know that they have a great warrior for their
prisoner, and they will treat him as one. If he is to be tortured, his
torments shall be such as no common man can bear; if he is to be treated
as a friend, it will be the friendship of chiefs."

As the Huron uttered this extraordinary assurance of consideration, his
eye furtively glanced at the countenance of his listener, in order to
discover how he stood the compliment, though his gravity and apparent
sincerity would have prevented any man but one practised in artifices,
from detecting his motives. Deerslayer belonged to the class of the
unsuspicious, and acquainted with the Indian notions of what constitutes
respect, in matters connected with the treatment of captives, he felt
his blood chill at the announcement, even while he maintained an aspect
so steeled that his quick sighted enemy could discover in it no signs of
weakness.

"God has put me in your hands, Huron," the captive at length answered,
"and I suppose you will act your will on me. I shall not boast of what
I can do, under torment, for I've never been tried, and no man can say
till he has been; but I'll do my endivours not to disgrace the people
among whom I got my training. Howsever, I wish you now to bear witness
that I'm altogether of white blood, and, in a nat'ral way of white gifts
too; so, should I be overcome and forget myself, I hope you'll lay
the fault where it properly belongs, and in no manner put it on the
Delawares, or their allies and friends the Mohicans. We're all created
with more or less weakness, and I'm afeard it's a pale-face's to give
in under great bodily torment, when a red-skin will sing his songs, and
boast of his deeds in the very teeth of his foes."

"We shall see. Hawkeye has a good countenance, and he is tough--but why
should he be tormented, when the Hurons love him? He is not born their
enemy, and the death of one warrior will not cast a cloud between them
forever."

"So much the better, Huron; so much the better. Still I don't wish to
owe any thing to a mistake about each other's meaning. It is so much
the better that you bear no malice for the loss of a warrior who fell
in war, and yet it is ontrue that there is no inmity--lawful inmity
I mean--atween us. So far as I have red-skin feelin's at all, I've
Delaware feelin's, and I leave you to judge for yourself how far they
are likely to be fri'ndly to the Mingos--"

Deerslayer ceased, for a sort of spectre stood before him, that put a
stop to his words, and, indeed, caused him for a moment to doubt the
fidelity of his boasted vision. Hetty Hutter was standing at the side of
the fire as quietly as if she belonged to the tribe.

As the hunter and the Indian sat watching the emotions that were
betrayed in each other's countenance, the girl had approached unnoticed,
doubtless ascending from the beach on the southern side of the point,
or that next to the spot where the Ark had anchored, and had advanced
to the fire with the fearlessness that belonged to her simplicity, and
which was certainly justified by the treatment formerly received from
the Indians. As soon as Rivenoak perceived the girl, she was recognised,
and calling to two or three of the younger warriors, the chief sent
them out to reconnoitre, lest her appearance should be the forerunner of
another attack. He then motioned to Hetty to draw near.

"I hope your visit is a sign that the Sarpent and Hist are in safety,
Hetty," said Deerslayer, as soon as the girl had complied with the
Huron's request. "I don't think you'd come ashore ag'in, on the arr'nd
that brought you here afore."

"Judith told me to come this time, Deerslayer," Hetty replied, "she
paddled me ashore herself, in a canoe, as soon as the Serpent had shown
her Hist and told his story. How handsome Hist is to-night, Deerslayer,
and how much happier she looks than when she was with the Hurons!"

"That's natur' gal; yes, that may be set down as human natur'. She's
with her betrothed, and no longer fears a Mingo husband. In my judgment
Judith, herself, would lose most of her beauty if she thought she was
to bestow it all on a Mingo! Content is a great fortifier of good looks,
and I'll warrant you, Hist is contented enough, now she is out of the
hands of these miscreants, and with her chosen warrior! Did you say that
Judith told you to come ashore--why should your sister do that?"

"She bid me come to see you, and to try and persuade the savages to take
more elephants to let you off, but I've brought the Bible with me--that
will do more than all the elephants in father's chest!"

"And your father, good little Hetty--and Hurry; did they know of your
arr'nd?"

"Not they. Both are asleep, and Judith and the Serpent thought it
best they should not be woke, lest they might want to come again after
scalps, when Hist had told them how few warriors, and how many women and
children there were in the camp. Judith would give me no peace, till I
had come ashore to see what had happened to you."

"Well, that's remarkable as consarns Judith! Whey should she feel so
much unsartainty about me?--Ah---I see how it is, now; yes, I see into
the whole matter, now. You must understand, Hetty, that your sister is
oneasy lest Harry March should wake, and come blundering here into
the hands of the inimy ag'in, under some idee that, being a travelling
comrade, he ought to help me in this matter! Hurry is a blunderer, I
will allow, but I don't think he'd risk as much for my sake, as he would
for his own."

"Judith don't care for Hurry, though Hurry cares for her," replied Hetty
innocently, but quite positively.

"I've heard you say as much as that afore; yes, I've heard that from
you, afore, gal, and yet it isn't true. One don't live in a tribe, not
to see something of the way in which liking works in a woman's heart.
Though no way given to marrying myself, I've been a looker on among the
Delawares, and this is a matter in which pale-face and red-skin gifts
are all as one as the same. When the feelin' begins, the young woman
is thoughtful, and has no eyes or ears onless for the warrior that has
taken her fancy; then follows melancholy and sighing, and such sort
of actions; after which, especially if matters don't come to plain
discourse, she often flies round to back biting and fault finding,
blaming the youth for the very things she likes best in him. Some young
creatur's are forward in this way of showing their love, and I'm of
opinion Judith is one of 'em. Now, I've heard her as much as deny that
Hurry was good-looking, and the young woman who could do that, must be
far gone indeed!"

"The young woman who liked Hurry would own that he is handsome. I think
Hurry very handsome, Deerslayer, and I'm sure everybody must think so,
that has eyes. Judith don't like Harry March, and that's the reason she
finds fault with him."

"Well--well--my good little Hetty, have it your own way. If we should
talk from now till winter, each would think as at present, and there's
no use in words. I must believe that Judith is much wrapped up in Hurry,
and that, sooner or later, she'll have him; and this, too, all the more
from the manner in which she abuses him; and I dare to say, you think
just the contrary. But mind what I now tell you, gal, and pretend not
to know it," continued this being, who was so obtuse on a point on
which men are usually quick enough to make discoveries, and so acute in
matters that would baffle the observation of much the greater portion
of mankind, "I see how it is, with them vagabonds. Rivenoak has left us,
you see, and is talking yonder with his young men, and though too far
to be heard, I can see what he is telling them. Their orders is to watch
your movements, and to find where the canoe is to meet you, to take
you back to the Ark, and then to seize all and what they can. I'm sorry
Judith sent you, for I suppose she wants you to go back ag'in."

"All that's settled, Deerslayer," returned the girl, in a low,
confidential and meaning manner, "and you may trust me to outwit the
best Indian of them all. I know I am feeble minded, but I've got some
sense, and you'll see how I'll use it in getting back, when my errand is
done!"

"Ahs! me, poor girl; I'm afeard all that's easier said than done.
They're a venomous set of riptyles and their p'ison's none the milder,
for the loss of Hist. Well, I'm glad the Sarpent was the one to get off
with the gal, for now there'll be two happy at least, whereas had he
fallen into the hands of the Mingos, there'd been two miserable, and
another far from feelin' as a man likes to feel."

"Now you put me in mind of a part of my errand that I had almost
forgotten, Deerslayer. Judith told me to ask you what you thought the
Hurons would do with you, if you couldn't be bought off, and what she
had best do to serve you. Yes, this was the most important part of the
errand--what she had best do, in order to serve you?"

"That's as you think, Hetty; but it's no matter. Young women are apt to
lay most stress on what most touches their feelin's; but no matter; have
it your own way, so you be but careful not to let the vagabonds get
the mastery of a canoe. When you get back to the Ark, tell 'em to keep
close, and to keep moving too, most especially at night. Many hours
can't go by without the troops on the river hearing of this party, and
then your fri'nds may look for relief. 'Tis but a day's march from the
nearest garrison, and true soldiers will never lie idle with the foe in
their neighborhood. This is my advice, and you may say to your father
and Hurry that scalp-hunting will be a poor business now, as the Mingos
are up and awake, and nothing can save 'em, 'till the troops come,
except keeping a good belt of water atween 'em and the savages."

"What shall I tell Judith about you, Deerslayer; I know she will send me
back again, if I don't bring her the truth about you."

"Then tell her the truth. I see no reason Judith Hutter shouldn't hear
the truth about me, as well as a lie. I'm a captyve in Indian hands, and
Providence only knows what will come of it! Harkee, Hetty," dropping
his voice and speaking still more confidentially, "you are a little weak
minded, it must be allowed, but you know something of Injins. Here I am
in their hands, after having slain one of their stoutest warriors, and
they've been endivouring to work upon me through fear of consequences,
to betray your father, and all in the Ark. I understand the blackguards
as well as if they'd told it all out plainly, with their tongues. They
hold up avarice afore me, on one side, and fear on t'other, and think
honesty will give way atween 'em both. But let your father and Hurry
know, 'tis all useless; as for the Sarpent, he knows it already."

"But what shall I tell Judith? She will certainly send me back, if I
don't satisfy her mind."

"Well, tell Judith the same. No doubt the savages will try the torments,
to make me give in, and to revenge the loss of their warrior, but I must
hold out ag'in nat'ral weakness in the best manner I can. You may tell
Judith to feel no consarn on my account--it will come hard I know,
seeing that a white man's gifts don't run to boasting and singing under
torment, for he generally feels smallest when he suffers most--but you
may tell her not to have any consarn. I think I shall make out to stand
it, and she may rely on this, let me give in, as much as I may, and
prove completely that I am white, by wailings, and howlings, and even
tears, yet I'll never fall so far as to betray my fri'nds. When it gets
to burning holes in the flesh, with heated ramrods, and to hacking
the body, and tearing the hair out by the roots, natur' may get the
upperhand, so far as groans, and complaints are consarned, but there the
triumph of the vagabonds will ind; nothing short of God's abandoning him
to the devils can make an honest man ontrue to his colour and duty."

Hetty listened with great attention, and her mild but speaking
countenance manifested a strong sympathy in the anticipated agony of the
supposititious sufferer. At first she seemed at a loss how to act; then,
taking a hand of Deerslayer's she affectionately recommended to him to
borrow her Bible, and to read it while the savages were inflicting their
torments. When the other honestly admitted that it exceeded his power to
read, she even volunteered to remain with him, and to perform this holy
office in person. The offer was gently declined, and Rivenoak being
about to join them, Deerslayer requested the girl to leave him, first
enjoining her again to tell those in the Ark to have full confidence in
his fidelity. Hetty now walked away, and approached the group of females
with as much confidence and self-possession as if she were a native of
the tribe. On the other hand the Huron resumed his seat by the side
of his prisoner, the one continuing to ask questions with all the wily
ingenuity of a practised Indian counsellor, and the other baffling him
by the very means that are known to be the most efficacious in defeating
the finesse of the more pretending diplomacy of civilization, or by
confining his answers to the truth, and the truth only.

    "Thus died she; never more on her
    Shall sorrow light, or shame. She was not made
    Through years or moons the inner weight to bear,
    Which colder hearts endure till they are laid
    By age in earth; her days and pleasure were
    Brief but delightful--such as had not stayed
    Long with her destiny; but she sleeps well
    By the sea-shore whereon she loved to dwell."

    Byron.  Don Juan, IV, lxxi.

The young men who had been sent out to reconnoitre, on the sudden
appearance of Hetty, soon returned to report their want of success in
making any discovery. One of them had even been along the beach as
far as the spot opposite to the ark, but the darkness had completely
concealed that vessel from his notice. Others had examined in different
directions, and everywhere the stillness of night was added to the
silence and solitude of the woods.

It was consequently believed that the girl had come alone, as on her
former visit, and on some similar errand. The Iroquois were ignorant
that the ark had left the castle, and there were movements projected, if
not in the course of actual execution, by this time, which also greatly
added to the sense of security. A watch was set, therefore, and all but
the sentinels disposed themselves to sleep. Sufficient care was had
to the safe keeping of the captive, without inflicting on him any
unnecessary suffering; and, as for Hetty, she was permitted to find a
place among the Indian girls in the best manner she could. She did
not find the friendly offices of Hist, though her character not only
bestowed impunity from pain and captivity, but it procured for her a
consideration and an attention that placed her, on the score of comfort,
quite on a level with the wild but gentle beings around her. She was
supplied with a skin, and made her own bed on a pile of boughs a little
apart from the huts. Here she was soon in a profound sleep, like all
around her.

There were now thirteen men in the party, and three kept watch at a
time. One remained in shadow, not far from the fire, however. His duty
was to guard the captive, to take care that the fire neither blazed up
so as to illuminate the spot, nor yet became wholly extinguished, and to
keep an eye generally on the state of the camp. Another passed from one
beach to the other, crossing the base of the point, while the third kept
moving slowly around the strand on its outer extremity, to prevent a
repetition of the surprise that had already taken place that night. This
arrangement was far from being usual among savages, who ordinarily
rely more on the secrecy of their movements, than on vigilance of
this nature; but it had been called for by the peculiarity of the
circumstances in which the Hurons were now placed. Their position was
known to their foes, and it could not easily be changed at an hour which
demanded rest. Perhaps, too, they placed most of their confidence on the
knowledge of what they believed to be passing higher up the lake, and
which, it was thought, would fully occupy the whole of the pale-faces
who were at liberty, with their solitary Indian ally. It was also
probable Rivenoak was aware that, in holding his captive, he had in his
own hands the most dangerous of all his enemies.

The precision with which those accustomed to watchfulness, or lives
of disturbed rest, sleep, is not the least of the phenomena of our
mysterious being. The head is no sooner on the pillow than consciousness
is lost; and yet, at a necessary hour, the mind appears to arouse the
body, as promptly as if it had stood sentinel the while over it. There
can be no doubt that they who are thus roused awake by the influence
of thought over matter, though the mode in which this influence is
exercised must remain hidden from our curiosity until it shall be
explained, should that hour ever arrive, by the entire enlightenment of
the soul on the subject of all human mysteries. Thus it was with Hetty
Hutter. Feeble as the immaterial portion of her existence was thought
to be, it was sufficiently active to cause her to open her eyes at
midnight. At that hour she awoke, and leaving her bed of skin and boughs
she walked innocently and openly to the embers of the fire, stirring the
latter, as the coolness of the night and the woods, in connection with
an exceedingly unsophisticated bed, had a little chilled her. As the
flame shot up, it lighted the swarthy countenance of the Huron on watch,
whose dark eyes glistened under its light like the balls of the panther
that is pursued to his den with burning brands. But Hetty felt no fear,
and she approached the spot where the Indian stood. Her movements
were so natural, and so perfectly devoid of any of the stealthiness of
cunning or deception, that he imagined she had merely arisen on account
of the coolness of the night, a common occurrence in a bivouac, and the
one of all others, perhaps, the least likely to excite suspicion. Hetty
spoke to him, but he understood no English. She then gazed near a minute
at the sleeping captive, and moved slowly away in a sad and melancholy
manner. The girl took no pains to conceal her movements. Any ingenious
expedient of this nature quite likely exceeded her powers; still
her step was habitually light, and scarcely audible. As she took the
direction of the extremity of the point, or the place where she had
landed in the first adventure, and where Hist had embarked, the sentinel
saw her light form gradually disappear in the gloom without uneasiness
or changing his own position. He knew that others were on the look-out,
and he did not believe that one who had twice come into the camp
voluntarily, and had already left it openly, would take refuge in
flight. In short, the conduct of the girl excited no more attention
that that of any person of feeble intellect would excite in civilized
society, while her person met with more consideration and respect.

Hetty certainly had no very distinct notions of the localities, but she
found her way to the beach, which she reached on the same side of the
point as that on which the camp had been made. By following the margin
of the water, taking a northern direction, she soon encountered the
Indian who paced the strand as sentinel. This was a young warrior, and
when he heard her light tread coming along the gravel he approached
swiftly, though with anything but menace in his manner. The darkness was
so intense that it was not easy to discover forms within the shadows
of the woods at the distance of twenty feet, and quite impossible to
distinguish persons until near enough to touch them. The young Huron
manifested disappointment when he found whom he had met; for, truth to
say, he was expecting his favourite, who had promised to relieve the
ennui of a midnight watch with her presence. This man was also ignorant
of English, but he was at no loss to understand why the girl should be
up at that hour. Such things were usual in an Indian village and camp,
where sleep is as irregular as the meals. Then poor Hetty's known
imbecility, as in most things connected with the savages, stood her
friend on this occasion. Vexed at his disappointment, and impatient of
the presence of one he thought an intruder, the young warrior signed
for the girl to move forward, holding the direction of the beach. Hetty
complied; but as she walked away she spoke aloud in English in her usual
soft tones, which the stillness of the night made audible at some little
distance.

"If you took me for a Huron girl, warrior," she said, "I don't wonder
you are so little pleased. I am Hetty Hutter, Thomas Hutter's daughter,
and have never met any man at night, for mother always said it was
wrong, and modest young women should never do it; modest young women of
the pale-faces, I mean; for customs are different in different parts
of the world, I know. No, no; I'm Hetty Hutter, and wouldn't meet even
Hurry Harry, though he should fall down on his knees and ask me! Mother
said it was wrong."

By the time Hetty had said this, she reached the place where the canoes
had come ashore, and, owing to the curvature of the land and the bushes,
would have been completely hid from the sight of the sentinel, had it
been broad day. But another footstep had caught the lover's ear, and he
was already nearly beyond the sound of the girl's silvery voice. Still
Hetty, bent only on her own thoughts and purposes, continued to speak,
though the gentleness of her tones prevented the sounds from penetrating
far into the woods. On the water they were more widely diffused.

"Here I am, Judith," she added, "and there is no one near me. The Huron
on watch has gone to meet his sweetheart, who is an Indian girl you
know, and never had a Christian mother to tell her how wrong it is to
meet a man at night."

Hetty's voice was hushed by a "Hist!" that came from the water, and then
she caught a dim view of the canoe, which approached noiselessly, and
soon grated on the shingle with its bow. The moment the weight of Hetty
was felt in the light craft the canoe withdrew, stern foremost, as if
possessed of life and volition, until it was a hundred yards from the
shore. Then it turned and, making a wide sweep, as much to prolong the
passage as to get beyond the sound of voices, it held its way towards
the ark. For several minutes nothing was uttered; but, believing herself
to be in a favourable position to confer with her sister, Judith, who
alone sat in the stern, managing the canoe with a skill little short of
that of a man, began a discourse which she had been burning to commence
ever since they had quitted the point.

"Here we are safe, Hetty," she said, "and may talk without the fear of
being overheard. You must speak low, however, for sounds are heard far
on the water in a still night. I was so close to the point some of the
time while you were on it, that I have heard the voices of the warriors,
and I heard your shoes on the gravel of the beach, even before you
spoke."

"I don't believe, Judith, the Hurons know I have left them."

"Quite likely they do not, for a lover makes a poor sentry, unless it be
to watch for his sweetheart! But tell me, Hetty, did you see and speak
with Deerslayer?"

"Oh, yes--there he was seated near the fire, with his legs tied, though
they left his arms free, to move them as he pleased."

"Well, what did he tell you, child? Speak quick; I am dying to know what
message he sent me."

"What did he tell me? why, what do you think, Judith; he told me that he
couldn't read! Only think of that! a white man, and not know how to read
his Bible even! He never could have had a mother, sister!"

"Never mind that, Hetty. All men can't read; though mother knew so much
and taught us so much, father knows very little about books, and he can
barely read the Bible you know."

"Oh! I never thought fathers could read much, but mothers ought all
to read, else how can they teach their children? Depend on it, Judith,
Deerslayer could never have had a mother, else he would know how to
read."

"Did you tell him I sent you ashore, Hetty, and how much concern I feel
for his misfortune?" asked the other, impatiently.

"I believe I did, Judith; but you know I am feeble-minded, and I may
have forgotten. I did tell him you brought me ashore. And he told me a
great deal that I was to say to you, which I remember well, for it made
my blood run cold to hear him. He told me to say that his friends--I
suppose you are one of them, sister?"

"How can you torment me thus, Hetty! Certainly, I am one of the truest
friends he has on earth."

"Torment you! yes, now I remember all about it. I am glad you used that
word, Judith, for it brings it all back to my mind. Well, he said
he might be tormented by the savages, but he would try to bear it as
becomes a Christian white man, and that no one need be afeard--why does
Deerslayer call it afeard, when mother always taught us to say afraid?"

"Never mind, dear Hetty, never mind that, now," cried the other, almost
gasping for breath. "Did Deerslayer really tell you that he thought the
savages would put him to the torture? Recollect now, well, Hetty, for
this is a most awful and serious thing."

"Yes he did; and I remember it by your speaking about my tormenting you.
Oh! I felt very sorry for him, and Deerslayer took all so quietly and
without noise! Deerslayer is not as handsome as Hurry Harry, Judith, but
he is more quiet."

"He's worth a million Hurrys! yes, he's worth all the young men who
ever came upon the lake put together," said Judith, with an energy and
positiveness that caused her sister to wonder. "He is true. There is no
lie about Deerslayer. You, Hetty, may not know what a merit it is in a
man to have truth, but when you get--no--I hope you will never know
it. Why should one like you be ever made to learn the hard lesson to
distrust and hate!"

Judith bowed her face, dark as it was, and unseen as she must have been
by any eye but that of Omniscience, between her hands, and groaned. This
sudden paroxysm of feeling, however, lasted but for a moment, and she
continued more calmly, still speaking frankly to her sister, whose
intelligence, and whose discretion in any thing that related to herself,
she did not in the least distrust. Her voice, however, was low and
husky, instead of having its former clearness and animation.

"It is a hard thing to fear truth, Hetty," she said, "and yet do I more
dread Deerslayer's truth, than any enemy! One cannot tamper with such
truth--so much honesty--such obstinate uprightness! But we are not
altogether unequal, sister--Deerslayer and I? He is not altogether my
superior?"

It was not usual for Judith so far to demean herself as to appeal to
Hetty's judgment. Nor did she often address her by the title of sister,
a distinction that is commonly given by the junior to the senior, even
where there is perfect equality in all other respects. As trifling
departures from habitual deportment oftener strike the imagination than
more important changes, Hetty perceived the circumstances, and wondered
at them in her own simple way. Her ambition was a little quickened,
and the answer was as much out of the usual course of things as the
question; the poor girl attempting to refine beyond her strength.

"Superior, Judith!" she repeated with pride. "In what can Deerslayer
be your superior? Are you not mother's child--and does he know how to
read--and wasn't mother before any woman in all this part of the world?
I should think, so far from supposing himself your superior, he would
hardly believe himself mine. You are handsome, and he is ugly--"

"No, not ugly, Hetty," interrupted Judith. "Only plain. But his honest
face has a look in it that is far better than beauty. In my eyes,
Deerslayer is handsomer than Hurry Harry."

"Judith Hutter! you frighten me. Hurry is the handsomest mortal in the
world--even handsomer than you are yourself; because a man's good looks,
you know, are always better than a woman's good looks."

This little innocent touch of natural taste did not please the elder
sister at the moment, and she did not scruple to betray it. "Hetty, you
now speak foolishly, and had better say no more on this subject," she
answered. "Hurry is not the handsomest mortal in the world, by many;
and there are officers in the garrisons--" Judith stammered at the
words--"there are officers in the garrisons, near us, far comelier than
he. But why do you think me the equal of Deerslayer--speak of that, for
I do not like to hear you show so much admiration of a man like Hurry
Harry, who has neither feelings, manners, nor conscience. You are too
good for him, and he ought to be told it, at once."

"I! Judith, how you forget! Why I am not beautiful, and am
feeble-minded."

"You are good, Hetty, and that is more than can be said of Harry March.
He may have a face, and a body, but he has no heart. But enough of this,
for the present. Tell me what raises me to an equality with Deerslayer."

"To think of you asking me this, Judith! He can't read, and you can. He
don't know how to talk, but speaks worse than Hurry even;--for, sister,
Harry doesn't always pronounce his words right! Did you ever notice
that?"

"Certainly, he is as coarse in speech as in everything else. But I fear
you flatter me, Hetty, when you think I can be justly called the equal
of a man like Deerslayer. It is true, I have been better taught; in
one sense am more comely; and perhaps might look higher; but then his
truth--his truth--makes a fearful difference between us! Well, I will
talk no more of this; and we will bethink us of the means of getting
him out of the hands of the Hurons. We have father's chest in the ark,
Hetty, and might try the temptation of more elephants; though I fear
such baubles will not buy the liberty of a man like Deerslayer. I am
afraid father and Hurry will not be as willing to ransom Deerslayer, as
Deerslayer was to ransom them!"

"Why not, Judith? Hurry and Deerslayer are friends, and friends should
always help one another."

"Alas! poor Hetty, you little know mankind! Seeming friends are often
more to be dreaded than open enemies; particularly by females. But
you'll have to land in the morning, and try again what can be done for
Deerslayer. Tortured he shall not be, while Judith Hutter lives, and can
find means to prevent it."

The conversation now grew desultory, and was drawn out, until the
elder sister had extracted from the younger every fact that the feeble
faculties of the latter permitted her to retain, and to communicate.
When Judith was satisfied--though she could never be said to be
satisfied, whose feelings seemed to be so interwoven with all that
related to the subject, as to have excited a nearly inappeasable
curiosity--but, when Judith could think of no more questions to ask,
without resorting to repetition, the canoe was paddled towards the scow.
The intense darkness of the night, and the deep shadows which the
hills and forest cast upon the water, rendered it difficult to find the
vessel, anchored, as it had been, as close to the shore as a regard to
safety rendered prudent. Judith was expert in the management of a bark
canoe, the lightness of which demanded skill rather than strength; and
she forced her own little vessel swiftly over the water, the moment she
had ended her conference with Hetty, and had come to the determination
to return. Still no ark was seen. Several times the sisters fancied they
saw it, looming up in the obscurity, like a low black rock; but on each
occasion it was found to be either an optical illusion, or some swell of
the foliage on the shore. After a search that lasted half an hour, the
girls were forced to the unwelcome conviction that the ark had departed.
Most young women would have felt the awkwardness of their situation,
in a physical sense, under the circumstances in which the sisters were
left, more than any apprehensions of a different nature. Not so with
Judith, however; and even Hetty felt more concern about the motives that
might have influenced her father and Hurry, than any fears for her own
safety.

"It cannot be, Hetty," said Judith, when a thorough search had satisfied
them both that no ark was to be found; "it cannot be that the Indians
have rafted, or swum off and surprised our friends as they slept?"

"I don't believe that Hist and Chingachgook would sleep until they had
told each other all they had to say after so long a separation--do you,
sister?"

"Perhaps not, child. There was much to keep them awake, but one Indian
may have been surprised even when not asleep, especially as his thoughts
may have been on other things. Still we should have heard a noise; for
in a night like this, an oath of Hurry Harry's would have echoed in the
eastern hills like a clap of thunder."

"Hurry is sinful and thoughtless about his words, Judith," Hetty meekly
and sorrowfully answered.

"No--no; 'tis impossible the ark could be taken and I not hear the
noise. It is not an hour since I left it, and the whole time I have been
attentive to the smallest sound. And yet, it is not easy to believe a
father would willingly abandon his children!"

"Perhaps father has thought us in our cabin asleep, Judith, and has
moved away to go home. You know we often move the ark in the night."

"This is true, Hetty, and it must be as you suppose. There is a little
more southern air than there was, and they have gone up the lake--"
Judith stopped, for, as the last word was on her tongue, the scene was
suddenly lighted, though only for a single instant, by a flash. The
crack of a rifle succeeded, and then followed the roll of the echo along
the eastern mountains. Almost at the same moment a piercing female
cry rose in the air in a prolonged shriek. The awful stillness that
succeeded was, if possible, more appalling than the fierce and sudden
interruption of the deep silence of midnight. Resolute as she was both
by nature and habit, Judith scarce breathed, while poor Hetty hid her
face and trembled.

"That was a woman's cry, Hetty," said the former solemnly, "and it was
a cry of anguish! If the ark has moved from this spot it can only have
gone north with this air, and the gun and shriek came from the point.
Can any thing have befallen Hist?"

"Let us go and see, Judith; she may want our assistance--for, besides
herself, there are none but men in the ark."

It was not a moment for hesitation, and ere Judith had ceased speaking
her paddle was in the water. The distance to the point, in a direct
line, was not great, and the impulses under which the girls worked were
too exciting to allow them to waste the precious moments in useless
precautions. They paddled incautiously for them, but the same excitement
kept others from noting their movements. Presently a glare of light
caught the eye of Judith through an opening in the bushes, and steering
by it, she so directed the canoe as to keep it visible, while she got as
near the land as was either prudent or necessary.

The scene that was now presented to the observation of the girls was
within the woods, on the side of the declivity so often mentioned, and
in plain view from the boat. Here all in the camp were collected, some
six or eight carrying torches of fat-pine, which cast a strong but
funereal light on all beneath the arches of the forest. With her
back supported against a tree, and sustained on one side by the young
sentinel whose remissness had suffered Hetty to escape, sat the female
whose expected visit had produced his delinquency. By the glare of the
torch that was held near her face, it was evident that she was in the
agonies of death, while the blood that trickled from her bared bosom
betrayed the nature of the injury she had received. The pungent,
peculiar smell of gunpowder, too, was still quite perceptible in the
heavy, damp night air. There could be no question that she had been
shot. Judith understood it all at a glance. The streak of light had
appeared on the water a short distance from the point, and either the
rifle had been discharged from a canoe hovering near the land, or it had
been fired from the ark in passing. An incautious exclamation, or laugh,
may have produced the assault, for it was barely possible that the aim
had been assisted by any other agent than sound. As to the effect, that
was soon still more apparent, the head of the victim dropping, and the
body sinking in death. Then all the torches but one were extinguished--a
measure of prudence; and the melancholy train that bore the body to the
camp was just to be distinguished by the glimmering light that remained.
Judith sighed heavily and shuddered, as her paddle again dipped, and
the canoe moved cautiously around the point. A sight had afflicted her
senses, and now haunted her imagination, that was still harder to be
borne, than even the untimely fate and passing agony of the deceased
girl.

She had seen, under the strong glare of all the torches, the erect form
of Deerslayer, standing with commiseration, and as she thought, with
shame depicted on his countenance, near the dying female. He betrayed
neither fear nor backwardness himself; but it was apparent by the
glances cast at him by the warriors, that fierce passions were
struggling in their bosoms. All this seemed to be unheeded by the
captive, but it remained impressed on the memory of Judith throughout
the night. No canoe was met hovering near the point. A stillness and
darkness, as complete as if the silence of the forest had never been
disturbed, or the sun had never shone on that retired region, now
reigned on the point, and on the gloomy water, the slumbering woods,
and even the murky sky. No more could be done, therefore, than to seek
a place of safety; and this was only to be found in the centre of the
lake. Paddling in silence to that spot, the canoe was suffered to drift
northerly, while the girls sought such repose as their situation and
feelings would permit.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Deerslayer eludes his pursuers so that Chingachgook and Hist can get into the canoe. By giving the canoe a quick and powerful shove into the lake, Deerslayer provides his friends with their chance to reach safety. His own escape is endangered by a Mingo who seizes him, and Deerslayer loses any advantage in the fight by devoting his attention to his friend's plight. More savages reach the shore, and the uneven struggle results in Deerslayer's capture. The Indians are elated by the sight of such an important enemy as their prisoner. Rivenoak, the chief, is especially pleased by Deerslayer's capture. Deerslayer's honor, valor, and shrewd tactics have won the respect of the Mingos; and Rivenoak proposes that Natty join the Indians by returning to the ark and then betraying his comrades for part of the expected booty. Although Deerslayer admits that Tom Hutter and Hurry Harry are no true friends of his because of their unscrupulous actions, he refuses to play the part of a traitor. Rivenoak is also impressed by Deerslayer's explanation that he came into the Mingo camp on a mission of rescue for a friend and not to take scalps. However, Catamount, who hoped to have Hist as his squaw, tries to antagonize Deerslayer; but the latter fends off the Indian's insults. Everyone, including Deerslayer, is surprised by the appearance of Hetty Hutter, but the Indians, because of their previous respect for a person favored by the gods, do not take her prisoner. Hetty explains to Deerslayer, who also enjoys some freedom of movement because of the Indians' admiration. of his prowess, that Judith has sent her on this errand. Judith will meet Hetty offshore in a canoe. Hetty is to try to ransom Deerslayer as Tom Hutter and Hurry Harry were previously ransomed. Deerslayer, however, warns Hetty that the Mingos are undoubtedly plotting to seize the two girls -- and the canoe so valuable for a raid on the ark. The Mingos, believing that their sentry will watch Hetty, allow her to wander away from the camp, so Hetty is able to make her escape to rejoin Judith in the canoe. The Mingo sentry was waiting for an Indian maiden to join him in an apparently prearranged tryst and failed to observe the white girl carefully. When the two sisters meet again in the canoe, Hetty is very blunt about Deerslayer's chances for rescue, and Judith betrays the increasingly tragic aspect of her love for Deerslayer by promising to do anything to save him. A shot sounds in the silence of the night, and the Mingo girl who was to meet the sentry is mortally wounded. Judith realizes that the shot must have come from another canoe or from the ark. She also understands from a swift glance at the Indian camp that the Mingos are infuriated at this unjustified atrocity and that Deerslayer is now in more mortal danger than previously. The girls paddle quickly to safety in the center of Glimmerglass.