prompt:
Chapter: "Thou hast been busy, Death, this day, and yet
    But half thy work is done!  The gates of hell
    Are thronged, yet twice ten thousand spirits more
    Who from their warm and healthful tenements
    Fear no divorce; must, ere the sun go down,
    Enter the world of woe!"--

    Southey, Roderick, the Last of the Goths, XXIV, i-6.

One experienced in the signs of the heavens, would have seen that the
sun wanted but two or three minutes of the zenith, when Deerslayer
landed on the point, where the Hurons were now encamped, nearly abreast
of the castle. This spot was similar to the one already described, with
the exception that the surface of the land was less broken, and less
crowded with trees. Owing to these two circumstances, it was all the
better suited to the purpose for which it had been selected, the space
beneath the branches bearing some resemblance to a densely wooded lawn.
Favoured by its position and its spring, it had been much resorted to by
savages and hunters, and the natural grasses had succeeded their fires,
leaving an appearance of sward in places, a very unusual accompaniment
of the virgin forest. Nor was the margin of water fringed with bushes,
as on so much of its shore, but the eye penetrated the woods immediately
on reaching the strand, commanding nearly the whole area of the
projection.

If it was a point of honor with the Indian warrior to redeem his word,
when pledged to return and meet his death at a given hour, so was it
a point of characteristic pride to show no womanish impatience, but to
reappear as nearly as possible at the appointed moment. It was well not
to exceed the grace accorded by the generosity of the enemy, but it was
better to meet it to a minute. Something of this dramatic effect mingles
with most of the graver usages of the American aborigines, and no doubt,
like the prevalence of a similar feeling among people more sophisticated
and refined, may be referred to a principle of nature. We all love the
wonderful, and when it comes attended by chivalrous self-devotion and a
rigid regard to honor, it presents itself to our admiration in a shape
doubly attractive. As respects Deerslayer, though he took a pride in
showing his white blood, by often deviating from the usages of the
red-men, he frequently dropped into their customs, and oftener into
their feelings, unconsciously to himself, in consequence of having no
other arbiters to appeal to, than their judgments and tastes. On the
present occasion, he would have abstained from betraying a feverish
haste by a too speedy return, since it would have contained a tacit
admission that the time asked for was more than had been wanted; but,
on the other hand, had the idea occurred to him, he would have quickened
his movements a little, in order to avoid the dramatic appearance of
returning at the precise instant set as the utmost limit of his absence.
Still, accident had interfered to defeat the last intention, for when
the young man put his foot on the point, and advanced with a steady
tread towards the group of chiefs that was seated in grave array on
a fallen tree, the oldest of their number cast his eye upward, at an
opening in the trees, and pointed out to his companions the startling
fact that the sun was just entering a space that was known to mark the
zenith. A common, but low exclamation of surprise and admiration escaped
every mouth, and the grim warriors looked at each other, some with envy
and disappointment, some with astonishment at the precise accuracy of
their victim, and others with a more generous and liberal feeling. The
American Indian always deemed his moral victories the noblest, prizing
the groans and yielding of his victim under torture, more than the
trophy of his scalp; and the trophy itself more than his life. To slay,
and not to bring off the proof of victory, indeed, was scarcely deemed
honorable, even these rude and fierce tenants of the forest, like their
more nurtured brethren of the court and the camp, having set up for
themselves imaginary and arbitrary points of honor, to supplant the
conclusions of the right and the decisions of reason.

The Hurons had been divided in their opinions concerning the probability
of their captive's return. Most among them, indeed, had not expected it
possible for a pale-face to come back voluntarily, and meet the known
penalties of an Indian torture; but a few of the seniors expected better
things from one who had already shown himself so singularly cool, brave
and upright. The party had come to its decision, however, less in
the expectation of finding the pledge redeemed, than in the hope of
disgracing the Delawares by casting into their teeth the delinquency
of one bred in their villages. They would have greatly preferred that
Chingachgook should be their prisoner, and prove the traitor, but the
pale-face scion of the hated stock was no bad substitute for their
purposes, failing in their designs against the ancient stem. With a
view to render their triumph as signal as possible, in the event of the
hour's passing without the reappearance of the hunter, all the warriors
and scouts of the party had been called in, and the whole band, men,
women and children, was now assembled at this single point, to be a
witness of the expected scene. As the castle was in plain view, and
by no means distant, it was easily watched by daylight, and, it being
thought that its inmates were now limited to Hurry, the Delaware and
the two girls, no apprehensions were felt of their being able to escape
unseen. A large raft having a breast-work of logs had been prepared,
and was in actual readiness to be used against either Ark or castle
as occasion might require, so soon as the fate of Deerslayer was
determined, the seniors of the party having come to the opinion that it
was getting to be hazardous to delay their departure for Canada beyond
the coming night. In short the band waited merely to dispose of this
single affair, ere it brought matters with those in the Castle to a
crisis, and prepared to commence its retreat towards the distant waters
of Ontario.

It was an imposing scene into which Deerslayer now found himself
advancing. All the older warriors were seated on the trunk of the fallen
tree, waiting his approach with grave decorum. On the right stood the
young men, armed, while left was occupied by the women and children. In
the centre was an open space of considerable extent, always canopied by
trees, but from which the underbrush, dead wood, and other obstacles had
been carefully removed. The more open area had probably been much used
by former parties, for this was the place where the appearance of a
sward was the most decided. The arches of the woods, even at high noon,
cast their sombre shadows on the spot, which the brilliant rays of the
sun that struggled through the leaves contributed to mellow, and, if
such an expression can be used, to illuminate. It was probably from a
similar scene that the mind of man first got its idea of the effects of
gothic tracery and churchly hues, this temple of nature producing
some such effect, so far as light and shadow were concerned, as the
well-known offspring of human invention.

As was not unusual among the tribes and wandering bands of the
Aborigines, two chiefs shared, in nearly equal degrees, the principal
and primitive authority that was wielded over these children of the
forest. There were several who might claim the distinction of being
chief men, but the two in question were so much superior to all the rest
in influence, that, when they agreed, no one disputed their mandates,
and when they were divided the band hesitated, like men who had lost
their governing principle of action. It was also in conformity with
practice, perhaps we might add in conformity with nature, that one of
the chiefs was indebted to his mind for his influence, whereas the other
owed his distinction altogether to qualities that were physical. One
was a senior, well known for eloquence in debate, wisdom in council, and
prudence in measures; while his great competitor, if not his rival, was
a brave distinguished in war, notorious for ferocity, and remarkable, in
the way of intellect, for nothing but the cunning and expedients of the
war path. The first was Rivenoak, who has already been introduced to the
reader, while the last was called le Panth'ere, in the language of the
Canadas, or the Panther, to resort to the vernacular of the English
colonies. The appellation of the fighting chief was supposed to indicate
the qualities of the warrior, agreeably to a practice of the red man's
nomenclature, ferocity, cunning and treachery being, perhaps, the
distinctive features of his character. The title had been received from
the French, and was prized so much the more from that circumstance,
the Indian submitting profoundly to the greater intelligence of his
pale-face allies, in most things of this nature. How well the sobriquet
was merited will be seen in the sequel.

Rivenoak and the Panther sat side by side awaiting the approach of their
prisoner, as Deerslayer put his moccasined foot on the strand, nor did
either move, or utter a syllable, until the young man had advanced into
the centre of the area, and proclaimed his presence with his voice. This
was done firmly, though in the simple manner that marked the character
of the individual.

"Here I am, Mingos," he said, in the dialect of the Delawares, a
language that most present understood; "here I am, and there is the sun.
One is not more true to the laws of natur', than the other has proved
true to his word. I am your prisoner; do with me what you please. My
business with man and 'arth is settled; nothing remains now but to meet
the white man's God, accordin' to a white man's duties and gifts."

A murmur of approbation escaped even the women at this address, and, for
an instant there was a strong and pretty general desire to adopt into
the tribe one who owned so brave a spirit. Still there were dissenters
from this wish, among the principal of whom might be classed the
Panther, and his sister, le Sumach, so called from the number of her
children, who was the widow of le Loup Cervier, now known to have fallen
by the hand of the captive. Native ferocity held one in subjection,
while the corroding passion of revenge prevented the other from
admitting any gentler feeling at the moment. Not so with Rivenoak. This
chief arose, stretched his arm before him in a gesture of courtesy, and
paid his compliments with an ease and dignity that a prince might have
envied. As, in that band, his wisdom and eloquence were confessedly
without rivals, he knew that on himself would properly fall the duty of
first replying to the speech of the pale-face.

"Pale-face, you are honest," said the Huron orator. "My people are happy
in having captured a man, and not a skulking fox. We now know you; we
shall treat you like a brave. If you have slain one of our warriors, and
helped to kill others, you have a life of your own ready to give away in
return. Some of my young men thought that the blood of a pale-face was
too thin; that it would refuse to run under the Huron knife. You will
show them it is not so; your heart is stout, as well as your body. It
is a pleasure to make such a prisoner; should my warriors say that the
death of le Loup Cervier ought not to be forgotten, and that he cannot
travel towards the land of spirits alone, that his enemy must be sent
to overtake him, they will remember that he fell by the hand of a brave,
and send you after him with such signs of our friendship as shall not
make him ashamed to keep your company. I have spoken; you know what I
have said."

"True enough, Mingo, all true as the gospel," returned the simple minded
hunter, "you have spoken, and I do know not only what you have said,
but, what is still more important, what you mean. I dare to say
your warrior the Lynx was a stout-hearted brave, and worthy of your
fri'ndship and respect, but I do not feel unworthy to keep his company,
without any passport from your hands. Nevertheless, here I am, ready
to receive judgment from your council, if, indeed, the matter was not
detarmined among you afore I got back."

"My old men would not sit in council over a pale-face until they saw him
among them," answered Rivenoak, looking around him a little ironically;
"they said it would be like sitting in council over the winds; they go
where they will, and come back as they see fit, and not otherwise. There
was one voice that spoke in your favor, Deerslayer, but it was alone,
like the song of the wren whose mate has been struck by the hawk."

"I thank that voice whosever it may have been, Mingo, and will say it
was as true a voice as the rest were lying voices. A furlough is as
binding on a pale-face, if he be honest, as it is on a red-skin, and was
it not so, I would never bring disgrace on the Delawares, among whom I
may be said to have received my edication. But words are useless, and
lead to braggin' feelin's; here I am; act your will on me."

Rivenoak made a sign of acquiescence, and then a short conference was
privately held among the chiefs. As soon as the latter ended, three or
four young men fell back from among the armed group, and disappeared.
Then it was signified to the prisoner that he was at liberty to go at
large on the point, until a council was held concerning his fate. There
was more of seeming, than of real confidence, however, in this apparent
liberality, inasmuch as the young men mentioned already formed a line of
sentinels across the breadth of the point, inland, and escape from any
other part was out of the question. Even the canoe was removed beyond
this line of sentinels, to a spot where it was considered safe from
any sudden attempt. These precautions did not proceed from a failure of
confidence, but from the circumstance that the prisoner had now complied
with all the required conditions of his parole, and it would have been
considered a commendable and honorable exploit to escape from his foes.
So nice, indeed, were the distinctions drawn by the savages in cases of
this nature, that they often gave their victims a chance to evade the
torture, deeming it as creditable to the captors to overtake, or to
outwit a fugitive, when his exertions were supposed to be quickened by
the extreme jeopardy of his situation, as it was for him to get clear
from so much extraordinary vigilance.

Nor was Deerslayer unconscious of, or forgetful, of his rights and of
his opportunities. Could he now have seen any probable opening for an
escape, the attempt would not have been delayed a minute. But the case
seem'd desperate. He was aware of the line of sentinels, and felt
the difficulty of breaking through it, unharmed. The lake offered
no advantages, as the canoe would have given his foes the greatest
facilities for overtaking him; else would he have found it no difficult
task to swim as far as the castle. As he walked about the point, he even
examined the spot to ascertain if it offered no place of concealment,
but its openness, its size, and the hundred watchful glances that were
turned towards him, even while those who made them affected not to
see him, prevented any such expedient from succeeding. The dread and
disgrace of failure had no influence on Deerslayer, who deemed it even
a point of honor to reason and feel like a white man, rather than as an
Indian, and who felt it a sort of duty to do all he could that did not
involve a dereliction from principle, in order to save his life. Still
he hesitated about making the effort, for he also felt that he ought to
see the chance of success before he committed himself.

In the mean time the business of the camp appeared to proceed in its
regular train. The chiefs consulted apart, admitting no one but the
Sumach to their councils, for she, the widow of the fallen warrior,
had an exclusive right to be heard on such an occasion. The young men
strolled about in indolent listlessness, awaiting the result with Indian
patience, while the females prepared the feast that was to celebrate the
termination of the affair, whether it proved fortunate or otherwise for
our hero. No one betrayed feeling, and an indifferent observer, beyond
the extreme watchfulness of the sentinels, would have detected no
extraordinary movement or sensation to denote the real state of things.
Two or three old women put their heads together, and it appeared
unfavorably to the prospects of Deerslayer, by their scowling looks, and
angry gestures; but a group of Indian girls were evidently animated by a
different impulse, as was apparent by stolen glances that expressed pity
and regret. In this condition of the camp, an hour soon glided away.

Suspense is perhaps the feeling of all others that is most difficult to
be supported. When Deerslayer landed, he fully expected in the course of
a few minutes to undergo the tortures of an Indian revenge, and he
was prepared to meet his fate manfully; but, the delay proved far more
trying than the nearer approach of suffering, and the intended victim
began seriously to meditate some desperate effort at escape, as it
might be from sheer anxiety to terminate the scene, when he was suddenly
summoned, to appear once more in front of his judges, who had already
arranged the band in its former order, in readiness to receive him.

"Killer of the Deer," commenced Rivenoak, as soon as his captive stood
before him, "my aged men have listened to wise words; they are ready to
speak. You are a man whose fathers came from beyond the rising sun; we
are children of the setting sun; we turn our faces towards the Great
Sweet Lakes, when we look towards our villages. It may be a wide country
and full of riches towards the morning, but it is very pleasant towards
the evening. We love most to look in that direction. When we gaze at the
east, we feel afraid, canoe after canoe bringing more and more of your
people in the track of the sun, as if their land was so full as to run
over. The red men are few already; they have need of help. One of our
best lodges has lately been emptied by the death of its master; it will
be a long time before his son can grow big enough to sit in his place.
There is his widow; she will want venison to feed her and her children,
for her sons are yet like the young of the robin, before they quit the
nest. By your hand has this great calamity befallen her. She has two
duties; one to le Loup Cervier, and one to his children. Scalp for
scalp, life for life, blood for blood, is one law; to feed her young,
another. We know you, Killer of the Deer. You are honest; when you say a
thing, it is so. You have but one tongue, and that is not forked, like
a snake's. Your head is never hid in the grass; all can see it. What
you say, that will you do. You are just. When you have done wrong, it is
your wish to do right, again, as soon as you can. Here, is the Sumach;
she is alone in her wigwam, with children crying around her for
food--yonder is a rifle; it is loaded and ready to be fired. Take the
gun, go forth and shoot a deer; bring the venison and lay it before the
widow of Le Loup Cervier, feed her children; call yourself her husband.
After which, your heart will no longer be Delaware, but Huron; le
Sumach's ears will not hear the cries of her children; my people will
count the proper number of warriors."

"I fear'd this, Rivenoak," answered Deerslayer, when the other had
ceased speaking--"yes, I did dread that it would come to this. Howsever,
the truth is soon told, and that will put an end to all expectations on
this head. Mingo, I'm white and Christian born; 't would ill become me
to take a wife, under red-skin forms, from among heathen. That which
I wouldn't do, in peaceable times, and under a bright sun, still less
would I do behind clouds, in order to save my life. I may never marry;
most likely Providence in putting me up here in the woods, has intended
I should live single, and without a lodge of my own; but should such a
thing come to pass, none but a woman of my own colour and gifts shall
darken the door of my wigwam. As for feeding the young of your dead
warrior, I would do that cheerfully, could it be done without discredit;
but it cannot, seeing that I can never live in a Huron village. Your
own young men must find the Sumach in venison, and the next time she
marries, let her take a husband whose legs are not long enough to
overrun territory that don't belong to him. We fou't a fair battle, and
he fell; in this there is nothin' but what a brave expects, and should
be ready to meet. As for getting a Mingo heart, as well might you expect
to see gray hairs on a boy, or the blackberry growing on the pine.
No--no Huron; my gifts are white so far as wives are consarned; it is
Delaware, in all things touchin' Injins."

These words were scarcely out of the mouth of Deerslayer, before a
common murmur betrayed the dissatisfaction with which they had been
heard. The aged women, in particular, were loud in their expressions of
disgust, and the gentle Sumach, herself, a woman quite old enough to be
our hero's mother, was not the least pacific in her denunciations.
But all the other manifestations of disappointment and discontent were
thrown into the background, by the fierce resentment of the Panther.
This grim chief had thought it a degradation to permit his sister to
become the wife of a pale-face of the Yengeese at all, and had only
given a reluctant consent to the arrangement--one by no means unusual
among the Indians, however--at the earnest solicitations of the
bereaved widow; and it goaded him to the quick to find his condescension
slighted, the honor he had with so much regret been persuaded to accord,
condemned. The animal from which he got his name does not glare on his
intended prey with more frightful ferocity than his eyes gleamed on the
captive, nor was his arm backward in seconding the fierce resentment
that almost consumed his breast.

"Dog of the pale-faces!" he exclaimed in Iroquois, "go yell among the
curs of your own evil hunting grounds!"

The denunciation was accompanied by an appropriate action. Even while
speaking his arm was lifted, and the tomahawk hurled. Luckily the loud
tones of the speaker had drawn the eye of Deerslayer towards him, else
would that moment have probably closed his career. So great was the
dexterity with which this dangerous weapon was thrown, and so deadly the
intent, that it would have riven the scull of the prisoner, had he not
stretched forth an arm, and caught the handle in one of its turns, with
a readiness quite as remarkable as the skill with which the missile had
been hurled. The projectile force was so great, notwithstanding, that
when Deerslayer's arm was arrested, his hand was raised above and behind
his own head, and in the very attitude necessary to return the
attack. It is not certain whether the circumstance of finding himself
unexpectedly in this menacing posture and armed tempted the young man
to retaliate, or whether sudden resentment overcame his forbearance and
prudence. His eye kindled, however, and a small red spot appeared on
each cheek, while he cast all his energy into the effort of his arm, and
threw back the weapon at his assailant. The unexpectedness of this blow
contributed to its success, the Panther neither raising an arm, nor
bending his head to avoid it. The keen little axe struck the victim in
a perpendicular line with the nose, directly between the eyes, literally
braining him on the spot. Sallying forward, as the serpent darts at its
enemy even while receiving its own death wound, this man of powerful
frame fell his length into the open area formed by the circle, quivering
in death. A common rush to his relief left the captive, in a single
instant, quite without the crowd, and, willing to make one desperate
effort for life, he bounded off with the activity of a deer. There was
but a breathless instant, when the whole band, old and young, women
and children, abandoning the lifeless body of the Panther where it lay,
raised the yell of alarm and followed in pursuit.

Sudden as had been the event which induced Deerslayer to make this
desperate trial of speed, his mind was not wholly unprepared for the
fearful emergency. In the course of the past hour, he had pondered well
on the chances of such an experiment, and had shrewdly calculated all
the details of success and failure. At the first leap, therefore, his
body was completely under the direction of an intelligence that turned
all its efforts to the best account, and prevented everything like
hesitation or indecision at the important instant of the start. To this
alone was he indebted for the first great advantage, that of getting
through the line of sentinels unharmed. The manner in which this was
done, though sufficiently simple, merits a description.

Although the shores of the point were not fringed with bushes, as was
the case with most of the others on the lake, it was owing altogether
to the circumstance that the spot had been so much used by hunters and
fishermen. This fringe commenced on what might be termed the main land,
and was as dense as usual, extending in long lines both north and south.
In the latter direction, then, Deerslayer held his way, and, as the
sentinels were a little without the commencement of this thicket, before
the alarm was clearly communicated to them the fugitive had gained its
cover. To run among the bushes, however, was out of the question, and
Deerslayer held his way, for some forty or fifty yards, in the water,
which was barely knee deep, offering as great an obstacle to the speed
of his pursuers as it did to his own. As soon as a favorable spot
presented, he darted through the line of bushes and issued into the open
woods. Several rifles were discharged at Deerslayer while in the water,
and more followed as he came out into the comparative exposure of the
clear forest. But the direction of his line of flight, which partially
crossed that of the fire, the haste with which the weapons had been
aimed, and the general confusion that prevailed in the camp prevented
any harm from being done. Bullets whistled past him, and many cut twigs
from the branches at his side, but not one touched even his dress. The
delay caused by these fruitless attempts was of great service to the
fugitive, who had gained more than a hundred yards on even the leading
men of the Hurons, ere something like concert and order had entered
into the chase. To think of following with rifles in hand was out of
the question, and after emptying their pieces in vague hopes of wounding
their captive, the best runners of the Indians threw them aside, calling
out to the women and boys to recover and load them, again, as soon as
possible.

Deerslayer knew too well the desperate nature of the struggle in which
he was engaged to lose one of the precious moments. He also knew that
his only hope was to run in a straight line, for as soon as he began to
turn, or double, the greater number of his pursuers would put escape out
of the question. He held his way therefore, in a diagonal direction up
the acclivity, which was neither very high nor very steep in this part
of the mountain, but which was sufficiently toilsome for one contending
for life, to render it painfully oppressive. There, however, he
slackened his speed to recover breath, proceeding even at a quick walk,
or a slow trot, along the more difficult parts of the way. The Hurons
were whooping and leaping behind him, but this he disregarded, well
knowing they must overcome the difficulties he had surmounted ere they
could reach the elevation to which he had attained. The summit of the
first hill was now quite near him, and he saw, by the formation of the
land, that a deep glen intervened before the base of a second hill could
be reached. Walking deliberately to the summit, he glanced eagerly about
him in every direction in quest of a cover. None offered in the ground,
but a fallen tree lay near him, and desperate circumstances required
desperate remedies. This tree lay in a line parallel to the glen, at the
brow of the hill. To leap on it, and then to force his person as close
as possible under its lower side, took but a moment. Previously to
disappearing from his pursuers, however, Deerslayer stood on the height
and gave a cry of triumph, as if exulting at the sight of the descent
that lay before him. In the next instant he was stretched beneath the
tree.

No sooner was this expedient adopted, than the young man ascertained how
desperate had been his own efforts, by the violence of the pulsations in
his frame. He could hear his heart beat, and his breathing was like the
action of a bellows, in quick motion. Breath was gained, however,
and the heart soon ceased to throb as if about to break through its
confinement. The footsteps of those who toiled up the opposite side
of the acclivity were now audible, and presently voices and treads
announced the arrival of the pursuers. The foremost shouted as they
reached the height; then, fearful that their enemy would escape under
favor of the descent, each leaped upon the fallen tree and plunged into
the ravine, trusting to get a sight of the pursued ere he reached the
bottom. In this manner, Huron followed Huron until Natty began to hope
the whole had passed. Others succeeded, however, until quite forty had
leaped over the tree, and then he counted them, as the surest mode of
ascertaining how many could be behind. Presently all were in the bottom
of the glen, quite a hundred feet below him, and some had even ascended
part of the opposite hill, when it became evident an inquiry was making
as to the direction he had taken. This was the critical moment, and one
of nerves less steady, or of a training that had been neglected, would
have seized it to rise and fly. Not so with Deerslayer. He still lay
quiet, watching with jealous vigilance every movement below, and fast
regaining his breath.

The Hurons now resembled a pack of hounds at fault. Little was said, but
each man ran about, examining the dead leaves as the hound hunts for
the lost scent. The great number of moccasins that had passed made the
examination difficult, though the in-toe of an Indian was easily to be
distinguished from the freer and wider step of a white man. Believing
that no more pursuers remained behind, and hoping to steal away unseen,
Deerslayer suddenly threw himself over the tree, and fell on the upper
side. This achievement appeared to be effected successfully, and hope
beat high in the bosom of the fugitive.

Rising to his hands and feet, after a moment lost in listening to the
sounds in the glen, in order to ascertain if he had been seen, the young
man next scrambled to the top of the hill, a distance of only ten yards,
in the expectation of getting its brow between him and his pursuers, and
himself so far under cover. Even this was effected, and he rose to his
feet, walking swiftly but steadily along the summit, in a direction
opposite to that in which he had first fled. The nature of the calls in
the glen, however, soon made him uneasy, and he sprang upon the summit
again, in order to reconnoitre. No sooner did he reach the height than
he was seen, and the chase renewed. As it was better footing on the
level ground, Deerslayer now avoided the side hill, holding his flight
along the ridge; while the Hurons, judging from the general formation of
the land, saw that the ridge would soon melt into the hollow, and kept
to the latter, as the easiest mode of heading the fugitive. A few, at
the same time, turned south, with a view to prevent his escaping in that
direction, while some crossed his trail towards the water, in order to
prevent his retreat by the lake, running southerly.

The situation of Deerslayer was now more critical than it ever had
been. He was virtually surrounded on three sides, having the lake on
the fourth. But he had pondered well on all the chances, and took
his measures with coolness, even while at the top of his speed. As is
generally the case with the vigorous border men, he could outrun any
single Indian among his pursuers, who were principally formidable to
him on account of their numbers, and the advantages they possessed in
position, and he would not have hesitated to break off in a straight
line at any spot, could he have got the whole band again fairly behind
him. But no such chance did, or indeed could now offer, and when he
found that he was descending towards the glen, by the melting away of
the ridge, he turned short, at right angles to his previous course,
and went down the declivity with tremendous velocity, holding his way
towards the shore. Some of his pursuers came panting up the hill in
direct chase, while most still kept on in the ravine, intending to head
him at its termination.

Deerslayer had now a different, though a desperate project in view.
Abandoning all thoughts of escape by the woods, he made the best of his
way towards the canoe. He knew where it lay; could it be reached, he had
only to run the gauntlet of a few rifles, and success would be certain.
None of the warriors had kept their weapons, which would have retarded
their speed, and the risk would come either from the uncertain hands
of the women, or from those of some well grown boy; though most of the
latter were already out in hot pursuit. Everything seemed propitious to
the execution of this plan, and the course being a continued descent,
the young man went over the ground at a rate that promised a speedy
termination to his toil.

As Deerslayer approached the point, several women and children were
passed, but, though the former endeavoured to cast dried branches
between his legs, the terror inspired by his bold retaliation on
the redoubted Panther was so great, that none dared come near enough
seriously to molest him. He went by all triumphantly and reached the
fringe of bushes. Plunging through these, our hero found himself once
more in the lake, and within fifty feet of the canoe. Here he ceased
to run, for he well understood that his breath was now all important to
him. He even stooped, as he advanced, and cooled his parched mouth by
scooping water up in his hand to drink. Still the moments pressed, and
he soon stood at the side of the canoe. The first glance told him that
the paddles had been removed! This was a sore disappointment, after all
his efforts, and, for a single moment, he thought of turning, and of
facing his foes by walking with dignity into the centre of the camp
again. But an infernal yell, such as the American savage alone can
raise, proclaimed the quick approach of the nearest of his pursuers,
and the instinct of life triumphed. Preparing himself duly, and giving a
right direction to its bows, he ran off into the water bearing the canoe
before him, threw all his strength and skill into a last effort, and
cast himself forward so as to fall into the bottom of the light craft
without materially impeding its way. Here he remained on his back, both
to regain his breath and to cover his person from the deadly rifle.
The lightness, which was such an advantage in paddling the canoe, now
operated unfavorably. The material was so like a feather, that the boat
had no momentum, else would the impulse in that smooth and placid sheet
have impelled it to a distance from the shore that would have rendered
paddling with the hands safe. Could such a point once be reached,
Deerslayer thought he might get far enough out to attract the attention
of Chingachgook and Judith, who would not fail to come to his relief
with other canoes, a circumstance that promised everything. As the young
man lay in the bottom of the canoe, he watched its movements by studying
the tops of the trees on the mountainside, and judged of his distance by
the time and the motions. Voices on the shore were now numerous, and he
heard something said about manning the raft, which, fortunately for the
fugitive, lay at a considerable distance on the other side of the point.

Perhaps the situation of Deerslayer had not been more critical that
day than it was at this moment. It certainly had not been one half as
tantalizing. He lay perfectly quiet for two or three minutes, trusting
to the single sense of hearing, confident that the noise in the lake
would reach his ears, did any one venture to approach by swimming.
Once or twice he fancied that the element was stirred by the cautious
movement of an arm, and then he perceived it was the wash of the water
on the pebbles of the strand; for, in mimicry of the ocean, it is seldom
that those little lakes are so totally tranquil as not to possess a
slight heaving and setting on their shores. Suddenly all the voices
ceased, and a death like stillness pervaded the spot: A quietness as
profound as if all lay in the repose of inanimate life. By this time,
the canoe had drifted so far as to render nothing visible to Deerslayer,
as he lay on his back, except the blue void of space, and a few of those
brighter rays that proceed from the effulgence of the sun, marking his
proximity. It was not possible to endure this uncertainty long. The
young man well knew that the profound stillness foreboded evil, the
savages never being so silent as when about to strike a blow; resembling
the stealthy foot of the panther ere he takes his leap. He took out a
knife and was about to cut a hole through the bark, in order to get
a view of the shore, when he paused from a dread of being seen in the
operation, which would direct the enemy where to aim their bullets. At
this instant a rifle was fired, and the ball pierced both sides of the
canoe, within eighteen inches of the spot where his head lay. This was
close work, but our hero had too lately gone through that which was
closer to be appalled. He lay still half a minute longer, and then he
saw the summit of an oak coming slowly within his narrow horizon.

Unable to account for this change, Deerslayer could restrain his
impatience no longer. Hitching his body along, with the utmost caution,
he got his eye at the bullet hole, and fortunately commanded a very
tolerable view of the point. The canoe, by one of those imperceptible
impulses that so often decide the fate of men as well as the course of
things, had inclined southerly, and was slowly drifting down the lake.
It was lucky that Deerslayer had given it a shove sufficiently vigorous
to send it past the end of the point, ere it took this inclination, or
it must have gone ashore again. As it was, it drifted so near it as to
bring the tops of two or three trees within the range of the young man's
view, as has been mentioned, and, indeed, to come in quite as close
proximity with the extremity of the point as was at all safe. The
distance could not much have exceeded a hundred feet, though fortunately
a light current of air from the southwest began to set it slowly off
shore.

Deerslayer now felt the urgent necessity of resorting to some expedient
to get farther from his foes, and if possible to apprise his friends
of his situation. The distance rendered the last difficult, while the
proximity to the point rendered the first indispensable. As was usual in
such craft, a large, round, smooth stone was in each end of the canoe,
for the double purpose of seats and ballast; one of these was within
reach of his feet. This stone he contrived to get so far between his
legs as to reach it with his hands, and then he managed to roll it to
the side of its fellow in the bows, where the two served to keep the
trim of the light boat, while he worked his own body as far aft as
possible. Before quitting the shore, and as soon as he perceived that
the paddles were gone, Deerslayer had thrown a bit of dead branch into
the canoe, and this was within reach of his arm. Removing the cap he
wore, he put it on the end of this stick, and just let it appear over
the edge of the canoe, as far as possible from his own person. This ruse
was scarcely adopted before the young man had a proof how much he had
underrated the intelligence of his enemies. In contempt of an artifice
so shallow and common place, a bullet was fired directly through another
part of the canoe, which actually raised his skin. He dropped the cap,
and instantly raised it immediately over his head, as a safeguard.
It would seem that this second artifice was unseen, or what was more
probable, the Hurons feeling certain of recovering their captive, wished
to take him alive.

Deerslayer lay passive a few minutes longer, his eye at the bullet
hole, however, and much did he rejoice at seeing that he was drifting,
gradually, farther and farther from the shore. When he looked upward,
the treetops had disappeared, but he soon found that the canoe was
slowly turning, so as to prevent his getting a view of anything at his
peephole, but of the two extremities of the lake. He now bethought him
of the stick, which was crooked and offered some facilities for rowing
without the necessity of rising. The experiment succeeded on trial,
better even than he had hoped, though his great embarrassment was to
keep the canoe straight. That his present manoeuvre was seen soon became
apparent by the clamor on the shore, and a bullet entering the stern of
the canoe traversed its length, whistling between the arms of our hero,
and passed out at the head. This satisfied the fugitive that he was
getting away with tolerable speed, and induced him to increase his
efforts. He was making a stronger push than common, when another
messenger from the point broke the stick out-board, and at once deprived
him of his oar. As the sound of voices seemed to grow more and more
distant, however, Deerslayer determined to leave all to the drift, until
he believed himself beyond the reach of bullets. This was nervous work,
but it was the wisest of all the expedients that offered, and the young
man was encouraged to persevere in it by the circumstance that he felt
his face fanned by the air, a proof that there was a little more wind.

    "Nor widows' tears, nor tender orphans' cries
    Can stop th' invader's force;
    Nor swelling seas, nor threatening skies,
    Prevent the pirate's course:
    Their lives to selfish ends decreed
    Through blood and rapine they proceed;
    No anxious thoughts of ill repute,
    Suspend the impetuous and unjust pursuit;
    But power and wealth obtain'd, guilty and great,
    Their fellow creatures' fears they raise, or urge their hate."

    Congreve, "Pindaric Ode," ii.

By this time Deerslayer had been twenty minutes in the canoe, and he
began to grow a little impatient for some signs of relief from his
friends. The position of the boat still prevented his seeing in any
direction, unless it were up or down the lake, and, though he knew that
his line of sight must pass within a hundred yards of the castle, it,
in fact, passed that distance to the westward of the buildings. The
profound stillness troubled him also, for he knew not whether to ascribe
it to the increasing space between him and the Indians, or to some new
artifice. At length, wearied with fruitless watchfulness, the young man
turned himself on his back, closed his eyes, and awaited the result
in determined acquiescence. If the savages could so completely control
their thirst for revenge, he was resolved to be as calm as themselves,
and to trust his fate to the interposition of the currents and air.

Some additional ten minutes may have passed in this quiescent manner, on
both sides, when Deerslayer thought he heard a slight noise, like a low
rubbing against the bottom of his canoe. He opened his eyes of course,
in expectation of seeing the face or arm of an Indian rising from the
water, and found that a canopy of leaves was impending directly over
his head. Starting to his feet, the first object that met his eye was
Rivenoak, who had so far aided the slow progress of the boat, as to
draw it on the point, the grating on the strand being the sound that had
first given our hero the alarm. The change in the drift of the canoe had
been altogether owing to the baffling nature of the light currents of
the air, aided by some eddies in the water.

"Come," said the Huron with a quiet gesture of authority, to order his
prisoner to land, "my young friend has sailed about till he is tired; he
will forget how to run again, unless he uses his legs."

"You've the best of it, Huron," returned Deerslayer, stepping steadily
from the canoe, and passively following his leader to the open area of
the point; "Providence has helped you in an onexpected manner. I'm your
prisoner ag'in, and I hope you'll allow that I'm as good at breaking
gaol, as I am at keeping furloughs."

"My young friend is a Moose!" exclaimed the Huron. "His legs are very
long; they have given my young men trouble. But he is not a fish; he
cannot find his way in the lake. We did not shoot him; fish are taken
in nets, and not killed by bullets. When he turns Moose again he will be
treated like a Moose."

"Ay, have your talk, Rivenoak; make the most of your advantage. 'Tis
your right, I suppose, and I know it is your gift. On that p'int
there'll be no words atween us, for all men must and ought to follow
their gifts. Howsever, when your women begin to ta'nt and abuse me, as I
suppose will soon happen, let 'em remember that if a pale-face struggles
for life so long as it's lawful and manful, he knows how to loosen his
hold on it, decently, when he feels that the time has come. I'm your
captyve; work your will on me."

"My brother has had a long run on the hills, and a pleasant sail on the
water," returned Rivenoak more mildly, smiling, at the same time, in a
way that his listener knew denoted pacific intentions. "He has seen the
woods; he has seen the water. Which does he like best? Perhaps he has
seen enough to change his mind, and make him hear reason."

"Speak out, Huron. Something is in your thoughts, and the sooner it is
said, the sooner you'll get my answer."

"That is straight! There is no turning in the talk of my pale-face
friend, though he is a fox in running. I will speak to him; his ears
are now open wider than before, and his eyes are not shut. The Sumach
is poorer than ever. Once she had a brother and a husband. She had
children, too. The time came and the husband started for the Happy
Hunting Grounds, without saying farewell; he left her alone with his
children. This he could not help, or he would not have done it; le Loup
Cervier was a good husband. It was pleasant to see the venison, and wild
ducks, and geese, and bear's meat, that hung in his lodge in winter. It
is now gone; it will not keep in warm weather. Who shall bring it back
again? Some thought the brother would not forget his sister, and that,
next winter, he would see that the lodge should not be empty. We thought
this; but the Panther yelled, and followed the husband on the path of
death. They are now trying which shall first reach the Happy Hunting
Grounds. Some think the Lynx can run fastest, and some think the Panther
can jump the farthest. The Sumach thinks both will travel so fast and so
far that neither will ever come back. Who shall feed her and her young?
The man who told her husband and her brother to quit her lodge, that
there might be room for him to come into it. He is a great hunter, and
we know that the woman will never want."

"Ay, Huron this is soon settled, accordin' to your notions, but it goes
sorely ag'in the grain of a white man's feelin's. I've heard of men's
saving their lives this-a-way, and I've know'd them that would prefar
death to such a sort of captivity. For my part, I do not seek my end,
nor do I seek matrimony."

"The pale-face will think of this, while my people get ready for the
council. He will be told what will happen. Let him remember how hard it
is to lose a husband and a brother. Go; when we want him, the name of
Deerslayer will be called."

This conversation had been held with no one near but the speakers. Of
all the band that had so lately thronged the place, Rivenoak alone was
visible. The rest seemed to have totally abandoned the spot. Even the
furniture, clothes, arms, and other property of the camp had entirely
disappeared, and the place bore no other proofs of the crowd that had so
lately occupied it, than the traces of their fires and resting places,
and the trodden earth that still showed the marks of their feet. So
sudden and unexpected a change caused Deerslayer a good deal of surprise
and some uneasiness, for he had never known it to occur, in the course
of his experience among the Delawares. He suspected, however, and
rightly, that a change of encampment was intended, and that the mystery
of the movement was resorted to in order to work on his apprehensions.

Rivenoak walked up the vista of trees as soon as he ceased speaking,
leaving Deerslayer by himself. The chief disappeared behind the covers
of the forest, and one unpractised in such scenes might have believed
the prisoner left to the dictates of his own judgment. But the young
man, while he felt a little amazement at the dramatic aspect of things,
knew his enemies too well to fancy himself at liberty, or a free
agent. Still, he was ignorant how far the Hurons meant to carry
their artifices, and he determined to bring the question, as soon as
practicable, to the proof. Affecting an indifference he was far from
feeling, he strolled about the area, gradually getting nearer and nearer
to the spot where he had landed, when he suddenly quickened his pace,
though carefully avoiding all appearance of flight, and pushing aside
the bushes, he stepped upon the beach. The canoe was gone, nor could he
see any traces of it, after walking to the northern and southern verges
of the point, and examining the shores in both directions. It
was evidently removed beyond his reach and knowledge, and under
circumstances to show that such had been the intention of the savages.

Deerslayer now better understood his actual situation. He was a prisoner
on the narrow tongue of land, vigilantly watched beyond a question, and
with no other means of escape than that of swimming. He, again, thought
of this last expedient, but the certainty that the canoe would be sent
in chase, and the desperate nature of the chances of success deterred
him from the undertaking. While on the strand, he came to a spot where
the bushes had been cut, and thrust into a small pile. Removing a few of
the upper branches, he found beneath them the dead body of the Panther.
He knew that it was kept until the savages might find a place to inter
it, where it would be beyond the reach of the scalping knife. He gazed
wistfully towards the castle, but there all seemed to be silent and
desolate, and a feeling of loneliness and desertion came over him to
increase the gloom of the moment.

"God's will be done!" murmured the young man, as he walked sorrowfully
away from the beach, entering again beneath the arches of the wood.
"God's will be done, on 'arth as it is in heaven! I did hope that my
days would not be numbered so soon, but it matters little a'ter all. A
few more winters, and a few more summers, and 'twould have been over,
accordin' to natur'. Ah's! me, the young and actyve seldom think death
possible, till he grins in their faces, and tells 'em the hour is come!"

While this soliloquy was being pronounced, the hunter advanced into the
area, where to his surprise he saw Hetty alone, evidently awaiting his
return. The girl carried the Bible under her arm, and her face, over
which a shadow of gentle melancholy was usually thrown, now seemed sad
and downcast. Moving nearer, Deerslayer spoke.

"Poor Hetty," he said, "times have been so troublesome, of late, that
I'd altogether forgotten you; we meet, as it might be to mourn over what
is to happen. I wonder what has become of Chingachgook and Wah!"

"Why did you kill the Huron, Deerslayer?--" returned the girl
reproachfully. "Don't you know your commandments, which say 'Thou shalt
not kill!' They tell me you have now slain the woman's husband and
brother!"

"It's true, my good Hetty--'tis gospel truth, and I'll not deny what has
come to pass. But, you must remember, gal, that many things are lawful
in war, which would be onlawful in peace. The husband was shot in open
fight--or, open so far as I was consarned, while he had a better cover
than common--and the brother brought his end on himself, by casting his
tomahawk at an unarmed prisoner. Did you witness that deed, gal?"

"I saw it, and was sorry it happened, Deerslayer, for I hoped you
wouldn't have returned blow for blow, but good for evil."

"Ah, Hetty, that may do among the Missionaries, but 'twould make an
onsartain life in the woods! The Panther craved my blood, and he was
foolish enough to throw arms into my hands, at the very moment he was
striving a'ter it. 'Twould have been ag'in natur' not to raise a hand in
such a trial, and 'twould have done discredit to my training and gifts.
No--no--I'm as willing to give every man his own as another, and so I
hope you'll testify to them that will be likely to question you as to
what you've seen this day."

"Deerslayer, do you mean to marry Sumach, now she has neither husband
nor brother to feed her?"

"Are such your idees of matrimony, Hetty! Ought the young to wive
with the old--the pale-face with the red-skin--the Christian with the
heathen? It's ag'in reason and natur', and so you'll see, if you think
of it a moment."

"I've always heard mother say," returned Hetty, averting her face more
from a feminine instinct than from any consciousness of wrong, "that
people should never marry until they loved each other better than
brothers and sisters, and I suppose that is what you mean. Sumach is
old, and you are young!"

"Ay and she's red, and I'm white. Beside, Hetty, suppose you was a wife,
now, having married some young man of your own years, and state, and
colour--Hurry Harry, for instance--" Deerslayer selected this example
simply from the circumstance that he was the only young man known to
both--"and that he had fallen on a war path, would you wish to take to
your bosom, for a husband, the man that slew him?"

"Oh! no, no, no--" returned the girl shuddering--"That would be wicked
as well as heartless! No Christian girl could, or would do that! I never
shall be the wife of Hurry, I know, but were he my husband no man should
ever be it, again, after his death!"

"I thought it would get to this, Hetty, when you come to understand
sarcumstances. 'Tis a moral impossibility that I should ever marry
Sumach, and, though Injin weddin's have no priests and not much
religion, a white man who knows his gifts and duties can't profit by
that, and so make his escape at the fitting time. I do think death would
be more nat'ral like, and welcome, than wedlock with this woman."

"Don't say it too loud," interrupted Hetty impatiently; "I suppose she
will not like to hear it. I'm sure Hurry would rather marry even me than
suffer torments, though I am feeble minded; and I am sure it would kill
me to think he'd prefer death to being my husband."

"Ay, gal, you ain't Sumach, but a comely young Christian, with a good
heart, pleasant smile, and kind eye. Hurry might be proud to get you,
and that, too, not in misery and sorrow, but in his best and happiest
days. Howsever, take my advice, and never talk to Hurry about these
things; he's only a borderer, at the best."

"I wouldn't tell him, for the world!" exclaimed the girl, looking about
her like one affrighted, and blushing, she knew not why. "Mother always
said young women shouldn't be forward, and speak their minds before
they're asked; Oh! I never forget what mother told me. 'Tis a pity Hurry
is so handsome, Deerslayer; I do think fewer girls would like him then,
and he would sooner know his own mind."

"Poor gal, poor gal, it's plain enough how it is, but the Lord will bear
in mind one of your simple heart and kind feelin's! We'll talk no more
of these things; if you had reason, you'd be sorrowful at having let
others so much into your secret. Tell me, Hetty, what has become of all
the Hurons, and why they let you roam about the p'int as if you, too,
was a prisoner?"

"I'm no prisoner, Deerslayer, but a free girl, and go when and where I
please. Nobody dare hurt me! If they did, God would be angry, as I can
show them in the Bible. No--no--Hetty Hutter is not afraid; she's in
good hands. The Hurons are up yonder in the woods, and keep a good watch
on us both, I'll answer for it, since all the women and children are on
the look-out. Some are burying the body of the poor girl who was shot,
so that the enemy and the wild beasts can't find it. I told 'em that
father and mother lay in the lake, but I wouldn't let them know in what
part of it, for Judith and I don't want any of their heathenish company
in our burying ground."

"Ahs! me; Well, it is an awful despatch to be standing here, alive and
angry, and with the feelin's up and ferocious, one hour, and then to be
carried away at the next, and put out of sight of mankind in a hole in
the 'arth! No one knows what will happen to him on a warpath, that's
sartain."

Here the stirring of leaves and the cracking of dried twigs interrupted
the discourse, and apprised Deerslayer of the approach of his enemies.
The Hurons closed around the spot that had been prepared for the coming
scene, and in the centre of which the intended victim now stood, in a
circle, the armed men being so distributed among the feebler members
of the band, that there was no safe opening through which the prisoner
could break. But the latter no longer contemplated flight, the recent
trial having satisfied him of his inability to escape when pursued so
closely by numbers. On the contrary, all his energies were aroused in
order to meet his expected fate, with a calmness that should do credit
to his colour and his manhood; one equally removed from recreant alarm,
and savage boasting.

When Rivenoak re-appeared in the circle, he occupied his old place at
the head of the area. Several of the elder warriors stood near him,
but, now that the brother of Sumach had fallen, there was no longer
any recognised chief present whose influence and authority offered a
dangerous rivalry to his own. Nevertheless, it is well known that little
which could be called monarchical or despotic entered into the politics
of the North American tribes, although the first colonists, bringing
with them to this hemisphere the notions and opinions of their own
countries, often dignified the chief men of those primitive nations
with the titles of kings and princes. Hereditary influence did certainly
exist, but there is much reason to believe it existed rather as a
consequence of hereditary merit and acquired qualifications, than as a
birthright. Rivenoak, however, had not even this claim, having risen to
consideration purely by the force of talents, sagacity, and, as Bacon
expresses it in relation to all distinguished statesmen, "by a union of
great and mean qualities;" a truth of which the career of the profound
Englishman himself furnishes so apt an illustration. Next to arms,
eloquence offers the great avenue to popular favor, whether it be in
civilized or savage life, and Rivenoak had succeeded, as so many have
succeeded before him, quite as much by rendering fallacies acceptable
to his listeners, as by any profound or learned expositions of truth, or
the accuracy of his logic. Nevertheless, he had influence; and was far
from being altogether without just claims to its possession. Like most
men who reason more than they feel, the Huron was not addicted to the
indulgence of the more ferocious passions of his people: he had been
commonly found on the side of mercy, in all the scenes of vindictive
torture and revenge that had occurred in his tribe since his own
attainment to power. On the present occasion, he was reluctant to
proceed to extremities, although the provocation was so great. Still
it exceeded his ingenuity to see how that alternative could well be
avoided. Sumach resented her rejection more than she did the deaths of
her husband and brother, and there was little probability that the
woman would pardon a man who had so unequivocally preferred death to
her embraces. Without her forgiveness, there was scarce a hope that
the tribe could be induced to overlook its loss, and even to Rivenoak,
himself, much as he was disposed to pardon, the fate of our hero now
appeared to be almost hopelessly sealed.

When the whole band was arrayed around the captive, a grave silence, so
much the more threatening from its profound quiet, pervaded the
place. Deerslayer perceived that the women and boys had been preparing
splinters of the fat pine roots, which he well knew were to be stuck
into his flesh, and set in flames, while two or three of the young men
held the thongs of bark with which he was to be bound. The smoke of a
distant fire announced that the burning brands were in preparation, and
several of the elder warriors passed their fingers over the edges of
their tomahawks, as if to prove their keenness and temper. Even the
knives seemed loosened in their sheathes, impatient for the bloody and
merciless work to begin.

"Killer of the Deer," recommenced Rivenoak, certainly without any signs
of sympathy or pity in his manner, though with calmness and dignity,
"Killer of the Deer, it is time that my people knew their minds. The
sun is no longer over our heads; tired of waiting on the Hurons, he
has begun to fall near the pines on this side of the valley. He is
travelling fast towards the country of our French fathers; it is to warn
his children that their lodges are empty, and that they ought to be at
home. The roaming wolf has his den, and he goes to it when he wishes to
see his young. The Iroquois are not poorer than the wolves. They have
villages, and wigwams, and fields of corn; the Good Spirits will be
tired of watching them alone. My people must go back and see to their
own business. There will be joy in the lodges when they hear our whoop
from the forest! It will be a sorrowful whoop; when it is understood,
grief will come after it. There will be one scalp-whoop, but there
will be only one. We have the fur of the Muskrat; his body is among the
fishes. Deerslayer must say whether another scalp shall be on our pole.
Two lodges are empty; a scalp, living or dead, is wanted at each door."

"Then take 'em dead, Huron," firmly, but altogether without dramatic
boasting, returned the captive. "My hour is come, I do suppose, and what
must be, must. If you are bent on the tortur', I'll do my indivours to
bear up ag'in it, though no man can say how far his natur' will stand
pain, until he's been tried."

"The pale-face cur begins to put his tail between his legs!" cried
a young and garrulous savage, who bore the appropriate title of the
Corbeau Rouge; a sobriquet he had gained from the French by his facility
in making unseasonable noises, and an undue tendency to hear his own
voice; "he is no warrior; he has killed the Loup Cervier when looking
behind him not to see the flash of his own rifle. He grunts like a hog,
already; when the Huron women begin to torment him, he will cry like the
young of the catamount. He is a Delaware woman, dressed in the skin of a
Yengeese!"

"Have your say, young man; have your say," returned Deerslayer, unmoved;
"you know no better, and I can overlook it. Talking may aggravate
women, but can hardly make knives sharper, fire hotter, or rifles more
sartain."

Rivenoak now interposed, reproving the Red Crow for his premature
interference, and then directing the proper persons to bind the captive.
This expedient was adopted, not from any apprehensions that he would
escape, or from any necessity that was yet apparent of his being unable
to endure the torture with his limbs free, but from an ingenious design
of making him feel his helplessness, and of gradually sapping his
resolution by undermining it, as it might be, little by little.
Deerslayer offered no resistance. He submitted his arms and legs, freely
if not cheerfully, to the ligaments of bark, which were bound around
them by order of the chief, in a way to produce as little pain as
possible. These directions were secret, and given in the hope that the
captive would finally save himself from any serious bodily suffering
by consenting to take the Sumach for a wife. As soon as the body of
Deerslayer was withed in bark sufficiently to create a lively sense
of helplessness, he was literally carried to a young tree, and bound
against it in a way that effectually prevented him from moving, as well
as from falling. The hands were laid flat against the legs, and thongs
were passed over all, in a way nearly to incorporate the prisoner with
the tree. His cap was then removed, and he was left half-standing,
half-sustained by his bonds, to face the coming scene in the best manner
he could.

Previously to proceeding to any thing like extremities, it was the wish
of Rivenoak to put his captive's resolution to the proof by renewing the
attempt at a compromise. This could be effected only in one manner, the
acquiescence of the Sumach being indispensably necessary to a compromise
of her right to be revenged. With this view, then, the woman was next
desired to advance, and to look to her own interests; no agent being
considered as efficient as the principal, herself, in this negotiation.
The Indian females, when girls, are usually mild and submissive, with
musical tones, pleasant voices and merry laughs, but toil and suffering
generally deprive them of most of these advantages by the time they have
reached an age which the Sumach had long before passed. To render their
voices harsh, it would seem to require active, malignant, passions,
though, when excited, their screams can rise to a sufficiently
conspicuous degree of discordancy to assert their claim to possess
this distinctive peculiarity of the sex. The Sumach was not altogether
without feminine attraction, however, and had so recently been deemed
handsome in her tribe, as not to have yet learned the full influence
that time and exposure produce on man, as well as on woman. By an
arrangement of Rivenoak's, some of the women around her had been
employing the time in endeavoring to persuade the bereaved widow that
there was still a hope Deerslayer might be prevailed on to enter her
wigwam, in preference to entering the world of spirits, and this, too,
with a success that previous symptoms scarcely justified. All this was
the result of a resolution on the part of the chief to leave no proper
means unemployed, in order to get transferred to his own nation the
greatest hunter that was then thought to exist in all that region,
as well as a husband for a woman who he felt would be likely to be
troublesome, were any of her claims to the attention and care of the
tribe overlooked.

In conformity with this scheme, the Sumach had been secretly advised to
advance into the circle, and to make her appeal to the prisoner's sense
of justice, before the band had recourse to the last experiment. The
woman, nothing loth, consented, for there was some such attraction in
becoming the wife of a noted hunter, among the females of the tribes, as
is experienced by the sex, in more refined life, when they bestow their
hands on the affluent. As the duties of a mother were thought to be
paramount to all other considerations, the widow felt none of that
embarrassment, in preferring her claims, to which even a female fortune
hunter among ourselves might be liable. When she stood forth before the
whole party, therefore, the children that she led by the hands fully
justified all she did.

"You see me before you, cruel pale-face," the woman commenced; "your
spirit must tell you my errand. I have found you; I cannot find le Loup
Cervier, nor the Panther; I have looked for them in the lake, in the
woods, in the clouds. I cannot say where they have gone."

"No man knows, good Sumach, no man knows," interposed the captive. "When
the spirit leaves the body, it passes into a world beyond our knowledge,
and the wisest way, for them that are left behind, is to hope for
the best. No doubt both your warriors have gone to the Happy Hunting
Grounds, and at the proper time you will see 'em ag'in, in their
improved state. The wife and sister of braves must have looked forward
to some such tarmination of their 'arthly careers."

"Cruel pale-face, what had my warriors done that you should slay them!
They were the best hunters, and the boldest young men of their tribe;
the Great Spirit intended that they should live until they withered like
the branches of the hemlock, and fell of their own weight--"

"Nay--nay--good Sumach," interrupted Deerslayer, whose love of truth was
too indomitable to listen to such hyperbole with patience, even though
it came from the torn breast of a widow--"Nay--nay, good Sumach, this is
a little outdoing red-skin privileges. Young man was neither, any more
than you can be called a young woman, and as to the Great Spirit's
intending that they should fall otherwise than they did, that's a
grievous mistake, inasmuch as what the Great Spirit intends is sartain
to come to pass. Then, agin, it's plain enough neither of your fri'nds
did me any harm; I raised my hand ag'in 'em on account of what they were
striving to do, rather than what they did. This is nat'ral law, 'to do
lest you should be done by.'"

"It is so. Sumach has but one tongue; she can tell but one story. The
pale face struck the Hurons lest the Hurons should strike him. The
Hurons are a just nation; they will forget it. The chiefs will shut
their eyes and pretend not to have seen it; the young men will believe
the Panther and the Lynx have gone to far off hunts, and the Sumach will
take her children by the hand, and go into the lodge of the pale-face
and say--'See; these are your children; they are also mine--feed us, and
we will live with you.'"

"The tarms are onadmissable, woman, and though I feel for your losses,
which must be hard to bear, the tarms cannot be accepted. As to givin'
you ven'son, in case we lived near enough together, that would be no
great expl'ite; but as for becomin' your husband, and the father of your
children, to be honest with you, I feel no callin' that-a-way."

"Look at this boy, cruel pale-face; he has no father to teach him to
kill the deer, or to take scalps. See this girl; what young man will
come to look for a wife in a lodge that has no head? There are more
among my people in the Canadas, and the Killer of Deer will find as many
mouths to feed as his heart can wish for."

"I tell you, woman," exclaimed Deerslayer, whose imagination was far
from seconding the appeal of the widow, and who began to grow restive
under the vivid pictures she was drawing, "all this is nothing to me.
People and kindred must take care of their own fatherless, leaving them
that have no children to their own loneliness. As for me, I have no
offspring, and I want no wife. Now, go away Sumach; leave me in the
hands of your chiefs, for my colour, and gifts, and natur' itself cry
out ag'in the idee of taking you for a wife."

It is unnecessary to expatiate on the effect of this downright refusal
of the woman's proposals. If there was anything like tenderness in her
bosom--and no woman was probably ever entirely without that feminine
quality--it all disappeared at this plain announcement. Fury, rage,
mortified pride, and a volcano of wrath burst out, at one explosion,
converting her into a sort of maniac, as it might beat the touch of a
magician's wand. Without deigning a reply in words, she made the arches
of the forest ring with screams, and then flew forward at her victim,
seizing him by the hair, which she appeared resolute to draw out by the
roots. It was some time before her grasp could be loosened. Fortunately
for the prisoner her rage was blind; since his total helplessness left
him entirely at her mercy. Had it been better directed it might have
proved fatal before any relief could have been offered. As it was, she
did succeed in wrenching out two or three handsful of hair, before the
young men could tear her away from her victim.

The insult that had been offered to the Sumach was deemed an insult to
the whole tribe; not so much, however, on account of any respect that
was felt for the woman, as on account of the honor of the Huron nation.
Sumach, herself, was generally considered to be as acid as the berry
from which she derived her name, and now that her great supporters, her
husband and brother, were both gone, few cared about concealing their
aversion. Nevertheless, it had become a point of honor to punish the
pale-face who disdained a Huron woman, and more particularly one who
coolly preferred death to relieving the tribe from the support of a
widow and her children. The young men showed an impatience to begin
to torture that Rivenoak understood, and, as his older associates
manifested no disposition to permit any longer delay, he was compelled
to give the signal for the infernal work to proceed.

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

completion: The Mingos are both surprised and admiring that Deerslayer has returned at the exact time he promised. But there is also a division on strategy among the Indians. Some of the Mingos had insisted that he would never honor his pledge to come back, and this quarrel had divided the tribe into factions. When Deerslayer appears, the chiefs are so impressed by his courage and honor that they want him to become a member of the Mingo nation. Rivenoak offers Deerslayer the chance to right a past wrong: He can marry Le Sumac, widow of the warrior whom Deerslayer killed on his "first warpath." The Panther, Le Sumac's brother, is against any such compromise, and he demands torture and death for Deerslayer. Deerslayer, however, solves the problem: He refuses to marry Le Sumac because such a union would violate his code as a white man and also betray his Christian beliefs. The Panther, infuriated at this additional insult, hurls his tomahawk at Deerslayer; but the latter stretches forth his arm and seizes the weapon. His eye kindles and he hurls the weapon back. The Panther is fatally struck between the eyes. Deerslayer then runs away and gains a fast start because the Mingos are stunned by the sudden actions of their prisoner and by the Panther's death. If he is to avoid encirclement by typical Mingo tactics, Deerslayer knows that he must follow a straight path to the lake. Hiding under a fallen tree until the pursuing warriors have run past him, Deerslayer then heads directly for the lake and the canoe. Luck turns against him because some Mingos see him. Deerslayer reaches the canoe, but he discovers that the paddles have been removed by the savages. Nevertheless, he jumps into the canoe after giving it a vigorous push. He trusts to the wind and the current to take him out of range because the Mingos, firing at him, compel Deerslayer to remain under cover. Unable to see because of his concealment, Deerslayer thinks that the canoe is moving away from land. Having remained in the canoe about 20 minutes, Deerslayer is alarmed to see leaves above his head. He jumps up and finds himself facing Rivenoak. The canoe, trapped by the mysterious currents of Glimmerglass, has drifted back to shore. Once more a prisoner, Deerslayer is now resigned to his fate. Rivenoak, however, again tries to persuade Deerslayer to join the Mingos as an honorable member of the tribe. After Deerslayer's refusal, the Indians tie him to a tree in preparation for the torture prior to death. Hetty, appearing with her Bible, innocently speaks to Deerslayer about the evil of killing the Panther and advocates that he should perhaps marry Le Sumac. But Deerslayer refuses to abide by Hetty's solution. Le Sumac, persuaded by some of the Mingos to appeal to the captive's sense of justice, comes and begs Deerslayer to help assume the responsibilities of raising her children. Deerslayer's rejection of this proposal infuriates Le Sumac, and she angrily wrenches out two or three handfuls of his hair. Having no choice, Rivenoak orders that the torture of Deerslayer should begin immediately.