Chapter: "Clear, placid Leman I Thy contrasted lake
    With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing
    Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake
    Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring.
    This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing
    To waft me from distraction; once I loved
    Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring
    Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved,
    That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved."

    BYRON.

Day had fairly dawned before the young man, whom we have left in the
situation described in the last chapter, again opened his eyes. This
was no sooner done, than he started up, and looked about him with
the eagerness of one who suddenly felt the importance of accurately
ascertaining his precise position. His rest had been deep and
undisturbed; and when he awoke, it was with a clearness of intellect and
a readiness of resources that were very much needed at that particular
moment. The sun had not risen, it is true, but the vault of heaven was
rich with the winning softness that "brings and shuts the day," while
the whole air was filled with the carols of birds, the hymns of the
feathered tribe. These sounds first told Deerslayer the risks he ran.
The air, for wind it could scarce be called, was still light, it is
true, but it had increased a little in the course of the night, and
as the canoes were feathers on the water, they had drifted twice the
expected distance; and, what was still more dangerous, had approached
so near the base of the mountain that here rose precipitously from the
eastern shore, as to render the carols of the birds plainly audible.
This was not the worst. The third canoe had taken the same direction,
and was slowly drifting towards a point where it must inevitably
touch, unless turned aside by a shift of wind, or human hands. In other
respects, nothing presented itself to attract attention, or to awaken
alarm. The castle stood on its shoal, nearly abreast of the canoes, for
the drift had amounted to miles in the course of the night, and the ark
lay fastened to its piles, as both had been left so many hours before.

As a matter of course, Deerslayer's attention was first given to the
canoe ahead. It was already quite near the point, and a very few strokes
of the paddle sufficed to tell him that it must touch before he could
possibly overtake it. Just at this moment, too, the wind inopportunely
freshened, rendering the drift of the light craft much more rapid than
certain. Feeling the impossibility of preventing a contact with
the land, the young man wisely determined not to heat himself with
unnecessary exertions; but first looking to the priming of his piece,
he proceeded slowly and warily towards the point, taking care to make
a little circuit, that he might be exposed on only one side, as he
approached.

The canoe adrift being directed by no such intelligence, pursued its
proper way, and grounded on a small sunken rock, at the distance of
three or four yards from the shore. Just at that moment, Deerslayer had
got abreast of the point, and turned the bows of his own boat to
the land; first casting loose his tow, that his movements might be
unencumbered. The canoe hung an instant to the rock; then it rose a
hair's breadth on an almost imperceptible swell of the water, swung
round, floated clear, and reached the strand. All this the young man
noted, but it neither quickened his pulses, nor hastened his hand. If
any one had been lying in wait for the arrival of the waif, he must
be seen, and the utmost caution in approaching the shore became
indispensable; if no one was in ambush, hurry was unnecessary. The point
being nearly diagonally opposite to the Indian encampment, he hoped the
last, though the former was not only possible, but probable; for the
savages were prompt in adopting all the expedients of their particular
modes of warfare, and quite likely had many scouts searching the shores
for craft to carry them off to the castle. As a glance at the lake
from any height or projection would expose the smallest object on its
surface, there was little hope that either of the canoes would pass
unseen; and Indian sagacity needed no instruction to tell which way a
boat or a log would drift, when the direction of the wind was known. As
Deerslayer drew nearer and nearer to the land, the stroke of his paddle
grew slower, his eye became more watchful, and his ears and nostrils
almost dilated with the effort to detect any lurking danger. It was a
trying moment for a novice, nor was there the encouragement which
even the timid sometimes feel, when conscious of being observed and
commended. He was entirely alone, thrown on his own resources, and
was cheered by no friendly eye, emboldened by no encouraging voice.
Notwithstanding all these circumstances, the most experienced veteran
in forest warfare could not have behaved better. Equally free from
recklessness and hesitation, his advance was marked by a sort of
philosophical prudence that appeared to render him superior to all
motives but those which were best calculated to effect his purpose. Such
was the commencement of a career in forest exploits, that afterwards
rendered this man, in his way, and under the limits of his habits and
opportunities, as renowned as many a hero whose name has adorned the
pages of works more celebrated than legends simple as ours can ever
become.

When about a hundred yards from the shore, Deerslayer rose in the canoe,
gave three or four vigorous strokes with the paddle, sufficient of
themselves to impel the bark to land, and then quickly laying aside the
instrument of labor, he seized that of war. He was in the very act of
raising the rifle, when a sharp report was followed by the buzz of a
bullet that passed so near his body as to cause him involuntarily to
start. The next instant Deerslayer staggered, and fell his whole
length in the bottom of the canoe. A yell--it came from a single
voice--followed, and an Indian leaped from the bushes upon the open area
of the point, bounding towards the canoe. This was the moment the young
man desired. He rose on the instant, and levelled his own rifle at his
uncovered foe; but his finger hesitated about pulling the trigger on one
whom he held at such a disadvantage. This little delay, probably, saved
the life of the Indian, who bounded back into the cover as swiftly as
he had broken out of it. In the meantime Deerslayer had been swiftly
approaching the land, and his own canoe reached the point just as his
enemy disappeared. As its movements had not been directed, it touched
the shore a few yards from the other boat; and though the rifle of his
foe had to be loaded, there was not time to secure his prize, and carry
it beyond danger, before he would be exposed to another shot. Under the
circumstances, therefore, he did not pause an instant, but dashed into
the woods and sought a cover.

On the immediate point there was a small open area, partly in native
grass, and partly beach, but a dense fringe of bushes lined its
upper side. This narrow belt of dwarf vegetation passed, one issued
immediately into the high and gloomy vaults of the forest. The land was
tolerably level for a few hundred feet, and then it rose precipitously
in a mountainside. The trees were tall, large, and so free from
underbrush, that they resembled vast columns, irregularly scattered,
upholding a dome of leaves. Although they stood tolerably close
together, for their ages and size, the eye could penetrate to
considerable distances; and bodies of men, even, might have engaged
beneath their cover, with concert and intelligence.

Deerslayer knew that his adversary must be employed in reloading, unless
he had fled. The former proved to be the case, for the young man had no
sooner placed himself behind a tree, than he caught a glimpse of the arm
of the Indian, his body being concealed by an oak, in the very act of
forcing the leathered bullet home. Nothing would have been easier than
to spring forward, and decide the affair by a close assault on his
unprepared foe; but every feeling of Deerslayer revolted at such a step,
although his own life had just been attempted from a cover. He was yet
unpracticed in the ruthless expedients of savage warfare, of which he
knew nothing except by tradition and theory, and it struck him as unfair
advantage to assail an unarmed foe. His color had heightened, his eye
frowned, his lips were compressed, and all his energies were collected
and ready; but, instead of advancing to fire, he dropped his rifle to
the usual position of a sportsman in readiness to catch his aim, and
muttered to himself, unconscious that he was speaking--

"No, no--that may be red-skin warfare, but it's not a Christian's gifts.
Let the miscreant charge, and then we'll take it out like men; for the
canoe he must not, and shall not have. No, no; let him have time to
load, and God will take care of the right!"

All this time the Indian had been so intent on his own movements,
that he was even ignorant that his enemy was in the woods. His only
apprehension was, that the canoe would be recovered and carried away
before he might be in readiness to prevent it. He had sought the cover
from habit, but was within a few feet of the fringe of bushes, and could
be at the margin of the forest in readiness to fire in a moment. The
distance between him and his enemy was about fifty yards, and the trees
were so arranged by nature that the line of sight was not interrupted,
except by the particular trees behind which each party stood.

His rifle was no sooner loaded, than the savage glanced around him, and
advanced incautiously as regarded the real, but stealthily as respected
the fancied position of his enemy, until he was fairly exposed. Then
Deerslayer stepped from behind its own cover, and hailed him.

"This-a-way, red-skin; this-a-way, if you're looking for me," he called
out. "I'm young in war, but not so young as to stand on an open beach to
be shot down like an owl, by daylight. It rests on yourself whether it's
peace or war atween us; for my gifts are white gifts, and I'm not one
of them that thinks it valiant to slay human mortals, singly, in the
woods."

The savage was a good deal startled by this sudden discovery of the
danger he ran. He had a little knowledge of English, however, and caught
the drift of the other's meaning. He was also too well schooled to
betray alarm, but, dropping the butt of his rifle to the earth, with
an air of confidence, he made a gesture of lofty courtesy. All this was
done with the ease and self-possession of one accustomed to consider no
man his superior. In the midst of this consummate acting, however, the
volcano that raged within caused his eyes to glare, and his nostrils to
dilate, like those of some wild beast that is suddenly prevented from
taking the fatal leap.

"Two canoes," he said, in the deep guttural tones of his race, holding
up the number of fingers he mentioned, by way of preventing mistakes;
"one for you--one for me."

"No, no, Mingo, that will never do. You own neither; and neither shall
you have, as long as I can prevent it. I know it's war atween your
people and mine, but that's no reason why human mortals should slay each
other, like savage creatur's that meet in the woods; go your way, then,
and leave me to go mine. The world is large enough for us both; and when
we meet fairly in battle, why, the Lord will order the fate of each of
us."

"Good!" exclaimed the Indian; "my brother missionary--great talk; all
about Manitou."

"Not so--not so, warrior. I'm not good enough for the Moravians, and am
too good for most of the other vagabonds that preach about in the woods.
No, no; I'm only a hunter, as yet, though afore the peace is made,
'tis like enough there'll be occasion to strike a blow at some of your
people. Still, I wish it to be done in fair fight, and not in a quarrel
about the ownership of a miserable canoe."

"Good! My brother very young--but he is very wise. Little warrior--great
talker. Chief, sometimes, in council."

"I don't know this, nor do I say it, Injin," returned Deerslayer,
coloring a little at the ill-concealed sarcasm of the other's manner;
"I look forward to a life in the woods, and I only hope it may be a
peaceable one. All young men must go on the war-path, when there's
occasion, but war isn't needfully massacre. I've seen enough of the
last, this very night, to know that Providence frowns on it; and I now
invite you to go your own way, while I go mine; and hope that we may
part fri'nds."

"Good! My brother has two scalp--gray hair under 'other. Old
wisdom--young tongue."

Here the savage advanced with confidence, his hand extended, his face
smiling, and his whole bearing denoting amity and respect. Deerslayer
met his offered friendship in a proper spirit, and they shook hands
cordially, each endeavoring to assure the other of his sincerity and
desire to be at peace.

"All have his own," said the Indian; "my canoe, mine; your canoe,
your'n. Go look; if your'n, you keep; if mine, I keep."

"That's just, red-skin; thought you must be wrong in thinking the canoe
your property. Howsever, seein' is believin', and we'll go down to the
shore, where you may look with your own eyes; for it's likely you'll
object to trustin' altogether to mine."

The Indian uttered his favorite exclamation of "Good!" and then they
walked side by side, towards the shore. There was no apparent distrust
in the manner of either, the Indian moving in advance, as if he wished
to show his companion that he did not fear turning his back to him. As
they reached the open ground, the former pointed towards Deerslayer's
boat, and said emphatically--"No mine--pale-face canoe. This red man's.
No want other man's canoe--want his own."

"You're wrong, red-skin, you're altogether wrong. This canoe was left
in old Hutter's keeping, and is his'n according to law, red or white,
till its owner comes to claim it. Here's the seats and the stitching of
the bark to speak for themselves. No man ever know'd an Injin to turn
off such work."

"Good! My brother little old--big wisdom. Injin no make him. White man's
work."

"I'm glad you think so, for holding out to the contrary might have made
ill blood atween us, every one having a right to take possession of his
own. I'll just shove the canoe out of reach of dispute at once, as the
quickest way of settling difficulties."

While Deerslayer was speaking, he put a foot against the end of the
light boat, and giving a vigorous shove, he sent it out into the lake
a hundred feet or more, where, taking the true current, it would
necessarily float past the point, and be in no further danger of coming
ashore. The savage started at this ready and decided expedient, and his
companion saw that he cast a hurried and fierce glance at his own canoe,
or that which contained the paddles. The change of manner, however, was
but momentary, and then the Iroquois resumed his air of friendliness,
and a smile of satisfaction.

"Good!" he repeated, with stronger emphasis than ever. "Young head, old
mind. Know how to settle quarrel. Farewell, brother. He go to house in
water--muskrat house--Injin go to camp; tell chiefs no find canoe."

Deerslayer was not sorry to hear this proposal, for he felt anxious
to join the females, and he took the offered hand of the Indian very
willingly. The parting words were friendly, and while the red man
walked calmly towards the wood, with the rifle in the hollow of his arm,
without once looking back in uneasiness or distrust, the white man moved
towards the remaining canoe, carrying his piece in the same pacific
manner, it is true, but keeping his eye fastened on the movements of the
other. This distrust, however, seemed to be altogether uncalled for, and
as if ashamed to have entertained it, the young man averted his look,
and stepped carelessly up to his boat. Here he began to push the canoe
from the shore, and to make his other preparations for departing. He
might have been thus employed a minute, when, happening to turn his face
towards the land, his quick and certain eye told him, at a glance, the
imminent jeopardy in which his life was placed. The black, ferocious
eyes of the savage were glancing on him, like those of the crouching
tiger, through a small opening in the bushes, and the muzzle of his
rifle seemed already to be opening in a line with his own body.

Then, indeed, the long practice of Deerslayer, as a hunter did him good
service. Accustomed to fire with the deer on the bound, and often when
the precise position of the animal's body had in a manner to be guessed
at, he used the same expedients here. To cock and poise his rifle were
the acts of a single moment and a single motion: then aiming almost
without sighting, he fired into the bushes where he knew a body ought
to be, in order to sustain the appalling countenance which alone was
visible. There was not time to raise the piece any higher, or to take
a more deliberate aim. So rapid were his movements that both parties
discharged their pieces at the same instant, the concussions mingling
in one report. The mountains, indeed, gave back but a single echo.
Deerslayer dropped his piece, and stood with head erect, steady as one
of the pines in the calm of a June morning, watching the result; while
the savage gave the yell that has become historical for its appalling
influence, leaped through the bushes, and came bounding across the open
ground, flourishing a tomahawk. Still Deerslayer moved not, but stood
with his unloaded rifle fallen against his shoulders, while, with a
hunter's habits, his hands were mechanically feeling for the powder-horn
and charger. When about forty feet from his enemy, the savage hurled his
keen weapon; but it was with an eye so vacant, and a hand so unsteady
and feeble, that the young man caught it by the handle as it was flying
past him. At that instant the Indian staggered and fell his whole length
on the ground.

"I know'd it--I know'd it!" exclaimed Deerslayer, who was already
preparing to force a fresh bullet into his rifle; "I know'd it must come
to this, as soon as I had got the range from the creatur's eyes. A man
sights suddenly, and fires quick when his own life's in danger; yes, I
know'd it would come to this. I was about the hundredth part of a second
too quick for him, or it might have been bad for me! The riptyle's
bullet has just grazed my side--but say what you will for or ag'in 'em,
a red-skin is by no means as sartain with powder and ball as a white
man. Their gifts don't seem to lie that a way. Even Chingachgook, great
as he is in other matters, isn't downright deadly with the rifle."

By this time the piece was reloaded, and Deerslayer, after tossing the
tomahawk into the canoe, advanced to his victim, and stood over him,
leaning on his rifle, in melancholy attention. It was the first
instance in which he had seen a man fall in battle--it was the first
fellow-creature against whom he had ever seriously raised his own hand.
The sensations were novel; and regret, with the freshness of our better
feelings, mingled with his triumph. The Indian was not dead, though shot
directly through the body. He lay on his back motionless, but his eyes,
now full of consciousness, watched each action of his victor--as the
fallen bird regards the fowler--jealous of every movement. The man
probably expected the fatal blow which was to precede the loss of his
scalp; or perhaps he anticipated that this latter act of cruelty
would precede his death. Deerslayer read his thoughts; and he found a
melancholy satisfaction in relieving the apprehensions of the helpless
savage.

"No, no, red-skin," he said; "you've nothing more to fear from me. I am
of a Christian stock, and scalping is not of my gifts. I'll just make
sartain of your rifle, and then come back and do you what sarvice I can.
Though here I can't stay much longer, as the crack of three rifles will
be apt to bring some of your devils down upon me."

The close of this was said in a sort of a soliloquy, as the young man
went in quest of the fallen rifle. The piece was found where its owner
had dropped it, and was immediately put into the canoe. Laying his own
rifle at its side, Deerslayer then returned and stood over the Indian
again.

"All inmity atween you and me's at an ind red-skin," he said; "and you
may set your heart at rest on the score of the scalp, or any further
injury. My gifts are white, as I've told you; and I hope my conduct will
be white also."

Could looks have conveyed all they meant, it is probable Deerslayer's
innocent vanity on the subject of color would have been rebuked a
little; but he comprehended the gratitude that was expressed in the eyes
of the dying savage, without in the least detecting the bitter sarcasm
that struggled with the better feeling.

"Water!" ejaculated the thirsty and unfortunate creature; "give poor
Injin water."

"Ay, water you shall have, if you drink the lake dry. I'll just carry
you down to it that you may take your fill. This is the way, they
tell me, with all wounded people--water is their greatest comfort and
delight."

So saying, Deerslayer raised the Indian in his arms, and carried him to
the lake. Here he first helped him to take an attitude in which he could
appease his burning thirst; after which he seated himself on a
stone, and took the head of his wounded adversary in his own lap, and
endeavored to soothe his anguish in the best manner he could.

"It would be sinful in me to tell you your time hadn't come, warrior,"
he commenced, "and therefore I'll not say it. You've passed the middle
age already, and, considerin' the sort of lives ye lead, your days have
been pretty well filled. The principal thing now, is to look forward
to what comes next. Neither red-skin nor pale-face, on the whole,
calculates much on sleepin' forever; but both expect to live in another
world. Each has his gifts, and will be judged by 'em, and I suppose
you've thought these matters over enough not to stand in need of sarmons
when the trial comes. You'll find your happy hunting-grounds, if you've
been a just Injin; if an onjust, you'll meet your desarts in another
way. I've my own idees about these things; but you're too old and
exper'enced to need any explanations from one as young as I."

"Good!" ejaculated the Indian, whose voice retained its depth even as
life ebbed away; "young head--old wisdom!"

"It's sometimes a consolation, when the ind comes, to know that them
we've harmed, or tried to harm, forgive us. I suppose natur' seeks
this relief, by way of getting a pardon on 'arth; as we never can know
whether He pardons, who is all in all, till judgment itself comes. It's
soothing to know that any pardon at such times; and that, I conclude, is
the secret. Now, as for myself, I overlook altogether your designs ag'in
my life; first, because no harm came of 'em; next, because it's your
gifts, and natur', and trainin', and I ought not to have trusted you at
all; and, finally and chiefly, because I can bear no ill-will to a dying
man, whether heathen or Christian. So put your heart at ease, so far as
I'm consarned; you know best what other matters ought to trouble you, or
what ought to give you satisfaction in so trying a moment."

It is probable that the Indian had some of the fearful glimpses of the
unknown state of being which God, in mercy, seems at times to afford
to all the human race; but they were necessarily in conformity with his
habits and prejudices. Like most of his people, and like too many of our
own, he thought more of dying in a way to gain applause among those
he left than to secure a better state of existence hereafter. While
Deerslayer was speaking, his mind was a little bewildered, though he
felt that the intention was good; and when he had done, a regret passed
over his spirit that none of his own tribe were present to witness his
stoicism, under extreme bodily suffering, and the firmness with which he
met his end. With the high innate courtesy that so often distinguishes
the Indian warrior before he becomes corrupted by too much intercourse
with the worst class of the white men, he endeavored to express his
thankfulness for the other's good intentions, and to let him understand
that they were appreciated.

"Good!" he repeated, for this was an English word much used by the
savages, "good! young head; young heart, too. Old heart tough; no shed
tear. Hear Indian when he die, and no want to lie--what he call him?"

"Deerslayer is the name I bear now, though the Delawares have said that
when I get back from this war-path, I shall have a more manly title,
provided I can 'arn one."

"That good name for boy--poor name for warrior. He get better quick.
No fear there,"--the savage had strength sufficient, under the strong
excitement he felt, to raise a hand and tap the young man on his
breast,--"eye sartain--finger lightning--aim, death--great warrior soon.
No Deerslayer--Hawkeye--Hawkeye--Hawkeye. Shake hand."

Deerslayer--or Hawkeye, as the youth was then first named, for in after
years he bore the appellation throughout all that region--Deerslayer
took the hand of the savage, whose last breath was drawn in that
attitude, gazing in admiration at the countenance of a stranger, who
had shown so much readiness, skill, and firmness, in a scene that was
equally trying and novel. When the reader remembers it is the highest
gratification an Indian can receive to see his enemy betray weakness,
he will be better able to appreciate the conduct which had extorted so
great a concession at such a moment.

"His spirit has fled!" said Deerslayer, in a suppressed, melancholy
voice. "Ah's me! Well, to this we must all come, sooner or later; and
he is happiest, let his skin be what color it may, who is best fitted to
meet it. Here lies the body of no doubt a brave warrior, and the soul
is already flying towards its heaven or hell, whether that be a happy
hunting ground, a place scant of game, regions of glory, according to
Moravian doctrine, or flames of fire! So it happens, too, as regards
other matters! Here have old Hutter and Hurry Harry got themselves into
difficulty, if they haven't got themselves into torment and death,
and all for a bounty that luck offers to me in what many would think a
lawful and suitable manner. But not a farthing of such money shall cross
my hand. White I was born, and white will I die; clinging to color to
the last, even though the King's majesty, his governors, and all his
councils, both at home and in the colonies, forget from what they come,
and where they hope to go, and all for a little advantage in warfare.
No, no, warrior, hand of mine shall never molest your scalp, and so your
soul may rest in peace on the p'int of making a decent appearance when
the body comes to join it, in your own land of spirits."

Deerslayer arose as soon as he had spoken. Then he placed the body of
the dead man in a sitting posture, with its back against the little
rock, taking the necessary care to prevent it from falling or in any
way settling into an attitude that might be thought unseemly by
the sensitive, though wild notions of a savage. When this duty was
performed, the young man stood gazing at the grim countenance of his
fallen foe, in a sort of melancholy abstraction. As was his practice,
however, a habit gained by living so much alone in the forest, he then
began again to give utterance to his thoughts and feelings aloud.

"I didn't wish your life, red-skin," he said "but you left me no choice
atween killing or being killed. Each party acted according to his
gifts, I suppose, and blame can light on neither. You were treacherous,
according to your natur' in war, and I was a little oversightful, as I'm
apt to be in trusting others. Well, this is my first battle with a human
mortal, though it's not likely to be the last. I have fou't most of
the creatur's of the forest, such as bears, wolves, painters, and
catamounts, but this is the beginning with the red-skins. If I was Injin
born, now, I might tell of this, or carry in the scalp, and boast of
the expl'ite afore the whole tribe; or, if my inimy had only been even
a bear, 'twould have been nat'ral and proper to let everybody know what
had happened; but I don't well see how I'm to let even Chingachgook into
this secret, so long as it can be done only by boasting with a white
tongue. And why should I wish to boast of it a'ter all? It's slaying a
human, although he was a savage; and how do I know that he was a just
Injin; and that he has not been taken away suddenly to anything but
happy hunting-grounds. When it's onsartain whether good or evil has
been done, the wisest way is not to be boastful--still, I should like
Chingachgook to know that I haven't discredited the Delawares, or my
training!"

Part of this was uttered aloud, while part was merely muttered between
the speaker's teeth; his more confident opinions enjoying the first
advantage, while his doubts were expressed in the latter mode. Soliloquy
and reflection received a startling interruption, however, by the sudden
appearance of a second Indian on the lake shore, a few hundred yards
from the point. This man, evidently another scout, who had probably been
drawn to the place by the reports of the rifles, broke out of the forest
with so little caution that Deerslayer caught a view of his person
before he was himself discovered. When the latter event did occur, as
was the case a moment later, the savage gave a loud yell, which was
answered by a dozen voices from different parts of the mountainside.
There was no longer any time for delay; in another minute the boat was
quitting the shore under long and steady sweeps of the paddle.

As soon as Deerslayer believed himself to be at a safe distance he
ceased his efforts, permitting the little bark to drift, while he
leisurely took a survey of the state of things. The canoe first sent
adrift was floating before the air, quite a quarter of a mile above him,
and a little nearer to the shore than he wished, now that he knew more
of the savages were so near at hand. The canoe shoved from the point was
within a few yards of him, he having directed his own course towards
it on quitting the land. The dead Indian lay in grim quiet where he had
left him, the warrior who had shown himself from the forest had already
vanished, and the woods themselves were as silent and seemingly deserted
as the day they came fresh from the hands of their great Creator. This
profound stillness, however, lasted but a moment. When time had been
given to the scouts of the enemy to reconnoitre, they burst out of the
thicket upon the naked point, filling the air with yells of fury at
discovering the death of their companion. These cries were immediately
succeeded by shouts of delight when they reached the body and clustered
eagerly around it. Deerslayer was a sufficient adept in the usages of
the natives to understand the reason of the change. The yell was the
customary lamentation at the loss of a warrior, the shout a sign of
rejoicing that the conqueror had not been able to secure the scalp;
the trophy, without which a victory is never considered complete. The
distance at which the canoes lay probably prevented any attempts to
injure the conqueror, the American Indian, like the panther of his own
woods, seldom making any effort against his foe unless tolerably certain
it is under circumstances that may be expected to prove effective.

As the young man had no longer any motive to remain near the point, he
prepared to collect his canoes, in order to tow them off to the castle.
That nearest was soon in tow, when he proceeded in quest of the other,
which was all this time floating up the lake. The eye of Deerslayer was
no sooner fastened on this last boat, than it struck him that it was
nearer to the shore than it would have been had it merely followed the
course of the gentle current of air. He began to suspect the influence
of some unseen current in the water, and he quickened his exertions, in
order to regain possession of it before it could drift into a dangerous
proximity to the woods. On getting nearer, he thought that the canoe had
a perceptible motion through the water, and, as it lay broadside to the
air, that this motion was taking it towards the land. A few vigorous
strokes of the paddle carried him still nearer, when the mystery was
explained. Something was evidently in motion on the off side of the
canoe, or that which was farthest from himself, and closer scrutiny
showed that it was a naked human arm. An Indian was lying in the bottom
of the canoe, and was propelling it slowly but certainly to the shore,
using his hand as a paddle. Deerslayer understood the whole artifice at
a glance. A savage had swum off to the boat while he was occupied with
his enemy on the point, got possession, and was using these means to
urge it to the shore.

Satisfied that the man in the canoe could have no arms, Deerslayer
did not hesitate to dash close alongside of the retiring boat, without
deeming it necessary to raise his own rifle. As soon as the wash of the
water, which he made in approaching, became audible to the prostrate
savage, the latter sprang to his feet, and uttered an exclamation that
proved how completely he was taken by surprise.

"If you've enj'yed yourself enough in that canoe, red-skin," Deerslayer
coolly observed, stopping his own career in sufficient time to prevent
an absolute collision between the two boats,--"if you've enj'yed
yourself enough in that canoe, you'll do a prudent act by taking to the
lake ag'in. I'm reasonable in these matters, and don't crave your blood,
though there's them about that would look upon you more as a due-bill
for the bounty than a human mortal. Take to the lake this minute, afore
we get to hot words."

The savage was one of those who did not understand a word of English,
and he was indebted to the gestures of Deerslayer, and to the expression
of an eye that did not often deceive, for an imperfect comprehension of
his meaning. Perhaps, too, the sight of the rifle that lay so near the
hand of the white man quickened his decision. At all events, he crouched
like a tiger about to take his leap, uttered a yell, and the next
instant his naked body disappeared in the water. When he rose to take
breath, it was at the distance of several yards from the canoe, and the
hasty glance he threw behind him denoted how much he feared the arrival
of a fatal messenger from the rifle of his foe. But the young man made
no indication of any hostile intention. Deliberately securing the canoe
to the others, he began to paddle from the shore; and by the time the
Indian reached the land, and had shaken himself, like a spaniel, on
quitting the water, his dreaded enemy was already beyond rifle-shot on
his way to the castle. As was so much his practice, Deerslayer did not
fail to soliloquize on what had just occurred, while steadily pursuing
his course towards the point of destination.

"Well, well,"--he commenced,--"'twould have been wrong to kill a human
mortal without an object. Scalps are of no account with me, and life
is sweet, and ought not to be taken marcilessly by them that have white
gifts. The savage was a Mingo, it's true; and I make no doubt he is, and
will be as long as he lives, a ra'al riptyle and vagabond; but that's no
reason I should forget my gifts and color. No, no,--let him go; if ever
we meet ag'in, rifle in hand, why then 'twill be seen which has the
stoutest heart and the quickest eye. Hawkeye! That's not a bad name
for a warrior, sounding much more manful and valiant than Deerslayer!
'Twouldn't be a bad title to begin with, and it has been fairly 'arned.
If 't was Chingachgook, now, he might go home and boast of his deeds,
and the chiefs would name him Hawkeye in a minute; but it don't become
white blood to brag, and 't isn't easy to see how the matter can
be known unless I do. Well, well,--everything is in the hands of
Providence; this affair as well as another; I'll trust to that for
getting my desarts in all things."

Having thus betrayed what might be termed his weak spot, the young man
continued to paddle in silence, making his way diligently, and as fast
as his tows would allow him, towards the castle. By this time the sun
had not only risen, but it had appeared over the eastern mountains, and
was shedding a flood of glorious light on this as yet unchristened
sheet of water. The whole scene was radiant with beauty; and no one
unaccustomed to the ordinary history of the woods would fancy it had so
lately witnessed incidents so ruthless and barbarous. As he approached
the building of old Hutter, Deerslayer thought, or rather felt that
its appearance was in singular harmony with all the rest of the scene.
Although nothing had been consulted but strength and security, the rude,
massive logs, covered with their rough bark, the projecting roof, and
the form, would contribute to render the building picturesque in almost
any situation, while its actual position added novelty and piquancy to
its other points of interest.

When Deerslayer drew nearer to the castle, however, objects of interest
presented themselves that at once eclipsed any beauties that might have
distinguished the scenery of the lake, and the site of the singular
edifice. Judith and Hetty stood on the platform before the door, Hurry's
dooryard awaiting his approach with manifest anxiety; the former, from
time to time, taking a survey of his person and of the canoes through
the old ship's spyglass that has been already mentioned. Never probably
did this girl seem more brilliantly beautiful than at that moment; the
flush of anxiety and alarm increasing her color to its richest tints,
while the softness of her eyes, a charm that even poor Hetty shared with
her, was deepened by intense concern. Such, at least, without pausing
or pretending to analyze motives, or to draw any other very nice
distinction between cause and effect, were the opinions of the young man
as his canoes reached the side of the ark, where he carefully fastened
all three before he put his foot on the platform.




    "His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles;
    His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate;
    His tears pure messengers sent from his heart;
    His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth."

    Two Gentlemen of Verona, II.vii,75-78

Neither of the girls spoke as Deerslayer stood before them alone, his
countenance betraying all the apprehension he felt on account of two
absent members of their party.

"Father!" Judith at length exclaimed, succeeding in uttering the word,
as it might be by a desperate effort.

"He's met with misfortune, and there's no use in concealing it,"
answered Deerslayer, in his direct and simple minded manner. "He
and Hurry are in Mingo hands, and Heaven only knows what's to be the
tarmination. I've got the canoes safe, and that's a consolation, since
the vagabonds will have to swim for it, or raft off, to come near this
place. At sunset we'll be reinforced by Chingachgook, if I can manage to
get him into a canoe; and then, I think, we two can answer for the ark
and the castle, till some of the officers in the garrisons hear of this
war-path, which sooner or later must be the case, when we may look for
succor from that quarter, if from no other."

"The officers!" exclaimed Judith, impatiently, her color deepening, and
her eye expressing a lively but passing emotion. "Who thinks or speaks
of the heartless gallants now? We are sufficient of ourselves to defend
the castle. But what of my father, and of poor Hurry Harry?"

"'T is natural you should feel this consarn for your own parent, Judith,
and I suppose it's equally so that you should feel it for Hurry Harry,
too."

Deerslayer then commenced a succinct but clear narrative of all that
occurred during the night, in no manner concealing what had befallen
his two companions, or his own opinion of what might prove to be the
consequences. The girls listened with profound attention, but neither
betrayed that feminine apprehension and concern which would have
followed such a communication when made to those who were less
accustomed to the hazards and accidents of a frontier life. To the
surprise of Deerslayer, Judith seemed the most distressed, Hetty
listening eagerly, but appearing to brood over the facts in melancholy
silence, rather than betraying any outward signs of feeling. The
former's agitation, the young man did not fail to attribute to the
interest she felt in Hurry, quite as much as to her filial love, while
Hetty's apparent indifference was ascribed to that mental darkness
which, in a measure, obscured her intellect, and which possibly
prevented her from foreseeing all the consequences. Little was said,
however, by either, Judith and her sister busying themselves in making
the preparations for the morning meal, as they who habitually attend
to such matters toil on mechanically even in the midst of suffering and
sorrow. The plain but nutritious breakfast was taken by all three in
sombre silence. The girls ate little, but Deerslayer gave proof of
possessing one material requisite of a good soldier, that of preserving
his appetite in the midst of the most alarming and embarrassing
circumstances. The meal was nearly ended before a syllable was uttered;
then, however, Judith spoke in the convulsive and hurried manner in
which feeling breaks through restraint, after the latter has become more
painful than even the betrayal of emotion.

"Father would have relished this fish," she exclaimed; "he says the
salmon of the lakes is almost as good as the salmon of the sea."

"Your father has been acquainted with the sea, they tell me, Judith,"
returned the young man, who could not forbear throwing a glance of
inquiry at the girl; for in common with all who knew Hutter, he had some
curiosity on the subject of his early history. "Hurry Harry tells me he
was once a sailor."

Judith first looked perplexed; then, influenced by feelings that were
novel to her, in more ways than one, she became suddenly communicative,
and seemingly much interested in the discourse.

"If Hurry knows anything of father's history, I would he had told it to
me!" she cried. "Sometimes I think, too, he was once a sailor, and then
again I think he was not. If that chest were open, or if it could speak,
it might let us into his whole history. But its fastenings are too
strong to be broken like pack thread."

Deerslayer turned to the chest in question, and for the first time
examined it closely. Although discolored, and bearing proofs of having
received much ill-treatment, he saw that it was of materials and
workmanship altogether superior to anything of the same sort he had
ever before beheld. The wood was dark, rich, and had once been highly
polished, though the treatment it had received left little gloss on
its surface, and various scratches and indentations proved the rough
collisions that it had encountered with substances still harder than
itself. The corners were firmly bound with steel, elaborately and richly
wrought, while the locks, of which it had no less than three, and the
hinges, were of a fashion and workmanship that would have attracted
attention even in a warehouse of curious furniture. This chest was quite
large; and when Deerslayer arose, and endeavored to raise an end by its
massive handle, he found that the weight fully corresponded with the
external appearance.

"Did you never see that chest opened, Judith?" the young man demanded
with frontier freedom, for delicacy on such subjects was little felt
among the people on the verge of civilization, in that age, even if it
be to-day.

"Never. Father has never opened it in my presence, if he ever opens it
at all. No one here has ever seen its lid raised, unless it be father;
nor do I even know that he has ever seen it."

"Now you're wrong, Judith," Hetty quietly answered. "Father has raised
the lid, and I've seen him do it."

A feeling of manliness kept the mouth of Deerslayer shut; for, while he
would not have hesitated about going far beyond what would be thought
the bounds of propriety, in questioning the older sister, he had just
scruples about taking what might be thought an advantage of the feeble
intellect of the younger. Judith, being under no such restraint,
however, turned quickly to the last speaker and continued the discourse.

"When and where did you ever see that chest opened, Hetty?"

"Here, and again and again. Father often opens it when you are away,
though he don't in the least mind my being by, and seeing all he does,
as well as hearing all he says."

"And what is it that he does, and what does he say?"

"That I cannot tell you, Judith," returned the other in a low but
resolute voice. "Father's secrets are not my secrets."

"Secrets! This is stranger still, Deerslayer, that father should tell
them to Hetty, and not tell them to me!"

"There's a good reason for that, Judith, though you're not to know it.
Father's not here to answer for himself, and I'll say no more about it."

Judith and Deerslayer looked surprised, and for a minute the first
seemed pained. But, suddenly recollecting herself, she turned away from
her sister, as if in pity for her weakness and addressed the young man.

"You've told but half your story," she said, "breaking off at the place
where you went to sleep in the canoe--or rather where you rose to listen
to the cry of the loon. We heard the call of the loons, too, and thought
their cries might bring a storm, though we are little used to tempests
on this lake at this season of the year."

"The winds blow and the tempests howl as God pleases; sometimes at one
season, and sometimes at another," answered Deerslayer; "and the loons
speak accordin' to their natur'. Better would it be if men were as
honest and frank. After I rose to listen to the birds, finding it could
not be Hurry's signal, I lay down and slept. When the day dawned I was
up and stirring, as usual, and then I went in chase of the two canoes,
lest the Mingos should lay hands on 'em."

"You have not told us all, Deerslayer," said Judith earnestly. "We heard
rifles under the eastern mountain; the echoes were full and long, and
came so soon after the reports, that the pieces must have been fired on
or quite near to the shore. Our ears are used to these signs, and are
not to be deceived."

"They've done their duty, gal, this time; yes, they've done their duty.
Rifles have been sighted this morning, ay, and triggers pulled, too,
though not as often as they might have been. One warrior has gone to his
happy hunting-grounds, and that's the whole of it. A man of white blood
and white gifts is not to be expected to boast of his expl'ites and to
flourish scalps."

Judith listened almost breathlessly; and when Deerslayer, in his quiet,
modest manner, seemed disposed to quit the subject, she rose, and
crossing the room, took a seat by his side. The manner of the girl had
nothing forward about it, though it betrayed the quick instinct of a
female's affection, and the sympathizing kindness of a woman's heart.
She even took the hard hand of the hunter, and pressed it in both her
own, unconsciously to herself, perhaps, while she looked earnestly and
even reproachfully into his sun burnt face.

"You have been fighting the savages, Deerslayer, singly and by
yourself!" she said. "In your wish to take care of us---of Hetty--of me,
perhaps, you've fought the enemy bravely, with no eye to encourage your
deeds, or to witness your fall, had it pleased Providence to suffer so
great a calamity!"

"I've fou't, Judith; yes, I have fou't the inimy, and that too, for the
first time in my life. These things must be, and they bring with 'em a
mixed feelin' of sorrow and triumph. Human natur' is a fightin' natur',
I suppose, as all nations kill in battle, and we must be true to our
rights and gifts. What has yet been done is no great matter, but should
Chingachgook come to the rock this evening, as is agreed atween us, and
I get him off it onbeknown to the savages or, if known to them, ag'in
their wishes and designs, then may we all look to something like
warfare, afore the Mingos shall get possession of either the castle, or
the ark, or yourselves."

"Who is this Chingachgook; from what place does he come, and why does he
come here?"

"The questions are nat'ral and right, I suppose, though the youth has a
great name, already, in his own part of the country. Chingachgook is a
Mohican by blood, consorting with the Delawares by usage, as is the case
with most of his tribe, which has long been broken up by the increase of
our color. He is of the family of the great chiefs; Uncas, his father,
having been the considerablest warrior and counsellor of his people.
Even old Tamenund honors Chingachgook, though he is thought to be
yet too young to lead in war; and then the nation is so disparsed and
diminished, that chieftainship among 'em has got to be little more than
a name.

"Well, this war having commenced in 'arnest, the Delaware and I
rendezvous'd an app'intment, to meet this evening at sunset on the
rendezvous-rock at the foot of this very lake, intending to come out on
our first hostile expedition ag'in the Mingos. Why we come exactly this
a way is our own secret; but thoughtful young men on the war-path, as
you may suppose, do nothing without a calculation and a design."

"A Delaware can have no unfriendly intentions towards us," said Judith,
after a moment's hesitation, "and we know you to be friendly."

"Treachery is the last crime I hope to be accused of," returned
Deerslayer, hurt at the gleam of distrust that had shot through Judith's
mind; "and least of all, treachery to my own color."

"No one suspects you, Deerslayer," the girl impetuously cried.
"No--no--your honest countenance would be sufficient surety for the
truth of a thousand hearts! If all men had as honest tongues, and no
more promised what they did not mean to perform, there would be less
wrong done in the world, and fine feathers and scarlet cloaks would not
be excuses for baseness and deception."

The girl spoke with strong, nay, even with convulsed feeling, and her
fine eyes, usually so soft and alluring, flashed fire as she concluded.
Deerslayer could not but observe this extraordinary emotion; but
with the tact of a courtier, he avoided not only any allusion to the
circumstance, but succeeded in concealing the effect of his discovery
on himself. Judith gradually grew calm again, and as she was obviously
anxious to appear to advantage in the eyes of the young man, she was
soon able to renew the conversation as composedly as if nothing had
occurred to disturb her.

"I have no right to look into your secrets, or the secrets of your
friend, Deerslayer," she continued, "and am ready to take all you say on
trust. If we can really get another male ally to join us at this trying
moment, it will aid us much; and I am not without hope that when the
savages find that we are able to keep the lake, they will offer to give
up their prisoners in exchange for skins, or at least for the keg of
powder that we have in the house."

The young man had the words "scalps" and "bounty" on his lips, but a
reluctance to alarm the feelings of the daughters prevented him from
making the allusion he had intended to the probable fate of their
father. Still, so little was he practised in the arts of deception,
that his expressive countenance was, of itself, understood by the
quick-witted Judith, whose intelligence had been sharpened by the risks
and habits of her life.

"I understand what you mean," she continued, hurriedly, "and what you
would say, but for the fear of hurting me--us, I mean; for Hetty
loves her father quite as well as I do. But this is not as we think of
Indians. They never scalp an unhurt prisoner, but would rather take him
away alive, unless, indeed, the fierce wish for torturing should get the
mastery of them. I fear nothing for my father's scalp, and little for
his life. Could they steal on us in the night, we should all probably
suffer in this way; but men taken in open strife are seldom injured;
not, at least, until the time of torture comes."

"That's tradition, I'll allow, and it's accordin' to practice--but,
Judith, do you know the arr'nd on which your father and Hurry went ag'in
the savages?"

"I do; and a cruel errand it was! But what will you have? Men will be
men, and some even that flaunt in their gold and silver, and carry the
King's commission in their pockets, are not guiltless of equal cruelty."
Judith's eye again flashed, but by a desperate struggle she resumed her
composure. "I get warm when I think of all the wrong that men do,"
she added, affecting to smile, an effort in which she only succeeded
indifferently well. "All this is silly. What is done is done, and it
cannot be mended by complaints. But the Indians think so little of
the shedding of blood, and value men so much for the boldness of their
undertakings, that, did they know the business on which their prisoners
came, they would be more likely to honor than to injure them for it."

"For a time, Judith; yes, I allow that, for a time. But when that
feelin' dies away, then will come the love of revenge. We must
indivor,--Chingachgook and I,--we must indivor to see what we can do to
get Hurry and your father free; for the Mingos will no doubt hover about
this lake some days, in order to make the most of their success."

"You think this Delaware can be depended on, Deerslayer?" demanded the
girl, thoughtfully.

"As much as I can myself. You say you do not suspect me, Judith?"

"You!" taking his hand again, and pressing it between her own, with a
warmth that might have awakened the vanity of one less simple-minded,
and more disposed to dwell on his own good qualities, "I would as soon
suspect a brother! I have known you but a day, Deerslayer, but it has
awakened the confidence of a year. Your name, however, is not unknown
to me; for the gallants of the garrisons frequently speak of the lessons
you have given them in hunting, and all proclaim your honesty."

"Do they ever talk of the shooting, gal?" inquired the other eagerly,
after, however, laughing in a silent but heartfelt manner. "Do they ever
talk of the shooting? I want to hear nothing about my own, for if that
isn't sartified to by this time, in all these parts, there's little
use in being skilful and sure; but what do the officers say of their
own--yes, what do they say of their own? Arms, as they call it, is their
trade, and yet there's some among 'em that know very little how to use
'em!"

"Such I hope will not be the case with your friend Chingachgook, as you
call him--what is the English of his Indian name?"

"Big Sarpent--so called for his wisdom and cunning, Uncas is his ra'al
name--all his family being called Uncas until they get a title that has
been 'arned by deeds."

"If he has all this wisdom, we may expect a useful friend in him, unless
his own business in this part of the country should prevent him from
serving us."

"I see no great harm in telling you his arr'nd, a'ter all, and, as
you may find means to help us, I will let you and Hetty into the whole
matter, trusting that you'll keep the secret as if it was your own. You
must know that Chingachgook is a comely Injin, and is much looked upon
and admired by the young women of his tribe, both on account of his
family, and on account of himself. Now, there is a chief that has a
daughter called Wah-ta-Wah, which is intarpreted into Hist-oh-Hist, in
the English tongue, the rarest gal among the Delawares, and the one
most sought a'ter and craved for a wife by all the young warriors of the
nation. Well, Chingachgook, among others, took a fancy to Wah-ta-Wah,
and Wah-ta-Wah took a fancy to him." Here Deerslayer paused an instant;
for, as he got thus far in his tale, Hetty Hutter arose, approached,
and stood attentive at his knee, as a child draws near to listen to
the legends of its mother. "Yes, he fancied her, and she fancied him,"
resumed Deerslayer, casting a friendly and approving glance at the
innocent and interested girl; "and when that is the case, and all the
elders are agreed, it does not often happen that the young couple keep
apart. Chingachgook couldn't well carry off such a prize without making
inimies among them that wanted her as much as he did himself. A sartain
Briarthorn, as we call him in English, or Yocommon, as he is tarmed in
Injin, took it most to heart, and we mistrust him of having a hand in
all that followed."

"Wah-ta-Wah went with her father and mother, two moons ago, to fish for
salmon on the western streams, where it is agreed by all in these parts
that fish most abounds, and while thus empl'yed the gal vanished. For
several weeks we could get no tidings of her; but here, ten days since,
a runner, that came through the Delaware country, brought us a message,
by which we learn that Wah-ta-Wah was stolen from her people, we think,
but do not know it, by Briarthorn's sarcumventions,--and that she was
now with the inimy, who had adopted her, and wanted her to marry a
young Mingo. The message said that the party intended to hunt and forage
through this region for a month or two, afore it went back into the
Canadas, and that if we could contrive to get on a scent in this
quarter, something might turn up that would lead to our getting the
maiden off."

"And how does that concern you, Deerslayer?" demanded Judith, a little
anxiously.

"It consarns me, as all things that touches a fri'nd consarns a fri'nd.
I'm here as Chingachgook's aid and helper, and if we can get the young
maiden he likes back ag'in, it will give me almost as much pleasure as
if I had got back my own sweetheart."

"And where, then, is your sweetheart, Deerslayer?"

"She's in the forest, Judith--hanging from the boughs of the trees, in a
soft rain--in the dew on the open grass--the clouds that float about in
the blue heavens--the birds that sing in the woods--the sweet springs
where I slake my thirst--and in all the other glorious gifts that come
from God's Providence!"

"You mean that, as yet, you've never loved one of my sex, but love best
your haunts, and your own manner of life."

"That's it--that's just it. I am white--have a white heart and can't,
in reason, love a red-skinned maiden, who must have a red-skin heart
and feelin's. No, no, I'm sound enough in them partic'lars, and hope to
remain so, at least till this war is over. I find my time too much taken
up with Chingachgook's affair, to wish to have one of my own on my hands
afore that is settled."


"The girl that finally wins you, Deerslayer, will at least win an honest
heart,--one without treachery or guile; and that will be a victory that
most of her sex ought to envy."

As Judith uttered this, her beautiful face had a resentful frown on it;
while a bitter smile lingered around a mouth that no derangement of the
muscles could render anything but handsome. Her companion observed the
change, and though little skilled in the workings of the female heart,
he had sufficient native delicacy to understand that it might be well to
drop the subject.

As the hour when Chingachgook was expected still remained distant,
Deerslayer had time enough to examine into the state of the defences,
and to make such additional arrangements as were in his power, and the
exigency of the moment seemed to require. The experience and foresight
of Hutter had left little to be done in these particulars; still,
several precautions suggested themselves to the young man, who may be
said to have studied the art of frontier warfare, through the traditions
and legends of the people among whom he had so long lived. The distance
between the castle and the nearest point on the shore, prevented any
apprehension on the subject of rifle-bullets thrown from the land. The
house was within musket-shot in one sense, it was true, but aim was
entirely out of the question, and even Judith professed a perfect
disregard of any danger from that source. So long, then, as the party
remained in possession of the fortress, they were safe, unless their
assailants could find the means to come off and carry it by fire or
storm, or by some of the devices of Indian cunning and Indian treachery.

Against the first source of danger Hutter had made ample provision, and
the building itself, the bark roof excepted, was not very combustible.
The floor was scuttled in several places, and buckets provided with
ropes were in daily use, in readiness for any such emergency. One of the
girls could easily extinguish any fire that might be lighted, provided
it had not time to make much headway. Judith, who appeared to understand
all her father's schemes of defence, and who had the spirit to take no
unimportant share in the execution of them, explained all these details
to the young man, who was thus saved much time and labor in making his
investigations.

Little was to be apprehended during the day. In possession of the
canoes and of the ark, no other vessel was to be found on the lake.
Nevertheless, Deerslayer well knew that a raft was soon made, and, as
dead trees were to be found in abundance near the water, did the savages
seriously contemplate the risks of an assault, it would not be a very
difficult matter to find the necessary means. The celebrated American
axe, a tool that is quite unrivalled in its way, was then not very
extensively known, and the savages were far from expert in the use of
its hatchet-like substitute; still, they had sufficient practice in
crossing streams by this mode to render it certain they would construct
a raft, should they deem it expedient to expose themselves to the risks
of an assault. The death of their warrior might prove a sufficient
incentive, or it might act as a caution; but Deerslayer thought it more
than possible that the succeeding night would bring matters to a crisis,
and in this precise way. This impression caused him to wish ardently for
the presence and succor of his Mohican friend, and to look forward to
the approach of sunset with an increasing anxiety.

As the day advanced, the party in the castle matured their plans,
and made their preparations. Judith was active, and seemed to find a
pleasure in consulting and advising with her new acquaintance,
whose indifference to danger, manly devotion to herself and sister,
guilelessness of manner, and truth of feeling, had won rapidly on both
her imagination and her affections. Although the hours appeared long in
some respects to Deerslayer, Judith did not find them so, and when the
sun began to descend towards the pine-clad summits of the western hills,
she felt and expressed her surprise that the day should so soon be
drawing to a close. On the other hand, Hetty was moody and silent. She
was never loquacious, or if she occasionally became communicative, it
was under the influence of some temporary excitement that served to
arouse her unsophisticated mind; but, for hours at a time, in the course
of this all-important day, she seemed to have absolutely lost the use
of her tongue. Nor did apprehension on account of her father materially
affect the manner of either sister. Neither appeared seriously to dread
any evil greater than captivity, and once or twice, when Hetty did
speak, she intimated the expectation that Hutter would find the means
to liberate himself. Although Judith was less sanguine on this head, she
too betrayed the hope that propositions for a ransom would come,
when the Indians discovered that the castle set their expedients and
artifices at defiance. Deerslayer, however, treated these passing
suggestions as the ill-digested fancies of girls, making his own
arrangements as steadily, and brooding over the future as seriously, as
if they had never fallen from their lips.

At length the hour arrived when it became necessary to proceed to
the place of rendezvous appointed with the Mohican, or Delaware, as
Chingachgook was more commonly called. As the plan had been matured
by Deerslayer, and fully communicated to his companions, all three set
about its execution, in concert, and intelligently. Hetty passed into
the ark, and fastening two of the canoes together, she entered one, and
paddled up to a sort of gateway in the palisadoes that surrounded the
building, through which she carried both; securing them beneath the
house by chains that were fastened within the building. These palisadoes
were trunks of trees driven firmly into the mud, and served the double
purpose of a small inclosure that was intended to be used in this very
manner, and to keep any enemy that might approach in boats at arm's
length. Canoes thus docked were, in a measure, hid from sight, and as
the gate was properly barred and fastened, it would not be an easy
task to remove them, even in the event of their being seen. Previously,
however, to closing the gate, Judith also entered within the inclosure
with the third canoe, leaving Deerslayer busy in securing the door and
windows inside the building, over her head. As everything was massive
and strong, and small saplings were used as bars, it would have been the
work of an hour or two to break into the building, when Deerslayer had
ended his task, even allowing the assailants the use of any tools but
the axe, and to be unresisted. This attention to security arose from
Hutter's having been robbed once or twice by the lawless whites of the
frontiers, during some of his many absences from home.

As soon as all was fast in the inside of the dwelling, Deerslayer
appeared at a trap, from which he descended into the canoe of Judith.
When this was done, he fastened the door with a massive staple and stout
padlock. Hetty was then received in the canoe, which was shoved outside
of the palisadoes. The next precaution was to fasten the gate, and the
keys were carried into the ark. The three were now fastened out of the
dwelling, which could only be entered by violence, or by following the
course taken by the young man in quitting it. The glass had been brought
outside as a preliminary step, and Deerslayer next took a careful survey
of the entire shore of the lake, as far as his own position would allow.
Not a living thing was visible, a few birds excepted, and even the last
fluttered about in the shades of the trees, as if unwilling to encounter
the heat of a sultry afternoon. All the nearest points, in particular,
were subjected to severe scrutiny, in order to make certain that no raft
was in preparation; the result everywhere giving the same picture of
calm solitude. A few words will explain the greatest embarrassment
belonging to the situation of our party. Exposed themselves to the
observation of any watchful eyes, the movements of their enemies were
concealed by the drapery of a dense forest. While the imagination would
be very apt to people the latter with more warriors than it really
contained, their own weakness must be too apparent to all who might
chance to cast a glance in their direction.

"Nothing is stirring, howsever," exclaimed Deerslayer, as he finally
lowered the glass, and prepared to enter the ark. "If the vagabonds do
harbor mischief in their minds, they are too cunning to let it be seen;
it's true, a raft may be in preparation in the woods, but it has not
yet been brought down to the lake. They can't guess that we are about to
quit the castle, and, if they did, they've no means of knowing where we
intend to go."

"This is so true, Deerslayer," returned Judith, "that now all is ready,
we may proceed at once, boldly, and without the fear of being followed;
else we shall be behind our time."

"No, no; the matter needs management; for, though the savages are in the
dark as to Chingachgook and the rock, they've eyes and legs, and will
see in what direction we steer, and will be sartain to follow us. I
shall strive to baffle 'em, howsever, by heading the scow in all manner
of ways, first in one quarter and then in another, until they get to be
a-leg-weary, and tired of tramping a'ter us."

So far as it was in his power, Deerslayer was as good as his word. In
less than five minutes after this speech was made, the whole party was
in the ark, and in motion. There was a gentle breeze from the north, and
boldly hoisting the sail, the young man laid the head of the unwieldy
craft in such a direction, as, after making a liberal but necessary
allowance for leeway, would have brought it ashore a couple of miles
down the lake, and on its eastern side. The sailing of the ark was
never very swift, though, floating as it did on the surface, it was not
difficult to get it in motion, or to urge it along over the water at the
rate of some three or four miles in the hour. The distance between the
castle and the rock was a little more than two leagues. Knowing the
punctuality of an Indian, Deerslayer had made his calculations closely,
and had given himself a little more time than was necessary to reach the
place of rendezvous, with a view to delay or to press his arrival, as
might prove most expedient. When he hoisted the sail, the sun lay above
the western hills, at an elevation that promised rather more than two
hours of day; and a few minutes satisfied him that the progress of the
scow was such as to equal his expectations.

It was a glorious June afternoon, and never did that solitary sheet of
water seem less like an arena of strife and bloodshed. The light air
scarce descended as low as the bed of the lake, hovering over it, as if
unwilling to disturb its deep tranquillity, or to ruffle its mirror-like
surface. Even the forests appeared to be slumbering in the sun, and a
few piles of fleecy clouds had lain for hours along the northern horizon
like fixtures in the atmosphere, placed there purely to embellish the
scene. A few aquatic fowls occasionally skimmed along the water, and a
single raven was visible, sailing high above the trees, and keeping
a watchful eye on the forest beneath him, in order to detect anything
having life that the mysterious woods might offer as prey.

The reader will probably have observed, that, amidst the frankness and
abruptness of manner which marked the frontier habits of Judith, her
language was superior to that used by her male companions, her own
father included. This difference extended as well to pronunciation as
to the choice of words and phrases. Perhaps nothing so soon betrays
the education and association as the modes of speech; and few
accomplishments so much aid the charm of female beauty as a graceful and
even utterance, while nothing so soon produces the disenchantment that
necessarily follows a discrepancy between appearance and manner, as
a mean intonation of voice, or a vulgar use of words. Judith and her
sister were marked exceptions to all the girls of their class, along
that whole frontier; the officers of the nearest garrison having often
flattered the former with the belief that few ladies of the towns
acquitted themselves better than herself, in this important particular.
This was far from being literally true, but it was sufficiently near the
fact to give birth to the compliment. The girls were indebted to their
mother for this proficiency, having acquired from her, in childhood, an
advantage that no subsequent study or labor can give without a drawback,
if neglected beyond the earlier periods of life. Who that mother was,
or rather had been, no one but Hutter knew. She had now been dead two
summers, and, as was stated by Hurry, she had been buried in the lake;
whether in indulgence of a prejudice, or from a reluctance to take the
trouble to dig her grave, had frequently been a matter of discussion
between the rude beings of that region. Judith had never visited the
spot, but Hetty was present at the interment, and she often paddled a
canoe, about sunset or by the light of the moon, to the place, and gazed
down into the limpid water, in the hope of being able to catch a glimpse
of the form that she had so tenderly loved from infancy to the sad hour
of their parting.

"Must we reach the rock exactly at the moment the sun sets?" Judith
demanded of the young man, as they stood near each other, Deerslayer
holding the steering-oar, and she working with a needle at some ornament
of dress, that much exceeded her station in life, and was altogether a
novelty in the woods. "Will a few minutes, sooner or later, alter the
matter? It will be very hazardous to remain long as near the shore as
that rock!"

"That's it, Judith; that's the very difficulty! The rock's within p'int
blank for a shot-gun, and 'twill never do to hover about it too close
and too long. When you have to deal with an Injin, you must calculate
and manage, for a red natur' dearly likes sarcumvention. Now you see,
Judith, that I do not steer towards the rock at all, but here to
the eastward of it, whereby the savages will be tramping off in that
direction, and get their legs a-wearied, and all for no advantage."

"You think, then, they see us, and watch our movements, Deerslayer? I
was in hopes they might have fallen back into the woods, and left us to
ourselves for a few hours."

"That's altogether a woman's consait. There's no let-up in an Injin's
watchfulness when he's on a war-path, and eyes are on us at this
minute, 'though the lake presarves us. We must draw near the rock on
a calculation, and indivor to get the miscreants on a false scent. The
Mingos have good noses, they tell me; but a white man's reason ought
always to equalize their instinct."

Judith now entered into a desultory discourse with Deerslayer, in which
the girl betrayed her growing interest in the young man; an interest
that his simplicity of mind and her decision of character, sustained as
it was by the consciousness awakened by the consideration her personal
charms so universally produced, rendered her less anxious to conceal
than might otherwise have been the case. She was scarcely forward in
her manner, though there was sometimes a freedom in her glances that it
required all the aid of her exceeding beauty to prevent from awakening
suspicions unfavorable to her discretion, if not to her morals. With
Deerslayer, however, these glances were rendered less obnoxious to
so unpleasant a construction; for she seldom looked at him without
discovering much of the sincerity and nature that accompany the purest
emotions of woman. It was a little remarkable that, as his captivity
lengthened, neither of the girls manifested any great concern for
her father; but, as has been said already, their habits gave them
confidence, and they looked forward to his liberation, by means of a
ransom, with a confidence that might, in a great degree, account for
their apparent indifference. Once before, Hutter had been in the hands
of the Iroquois, and a few skins had readily effected his release. This
event, however, unknown to the sisters, had occurred in a time of
peace between England and France, and when the savages were restrained,
instead of being encouraged to commit their excesses, by the policy of
the different colonial governments.

While Judith was loquacious and caressing in her manner, Hetty remained
thoughtful and silent. Once, indeed, she drew near to Deerslayer,
and questioned him a little closely as to his intentions, as well as
concerning the mode of effecting his purpose; but her wish to converse
went no further. As soon as her simple queries were answered--and
answered they all were, in the fullest and kindest manner--she withdrew
to her seat, and continued to work on a coarse garment that she was
making for her father, sometimes humming a low melancholy air, and
frequently sighing.

In this manner the time passed away; and when the sun was beginning to
glow behind the fringe of the pines that bounded the western hill, or
about twenty minutes before it actually set, the ark was nearly as low
as the point where Hutter and Hurry had been made prisoners. By sheering
first to one side of the lake, and then to the other, Deerslayer managed
to create an uncertainty as to his object; and, doubtless, the savages,
who were unquestionably watching his movements, were led to believe that
his aim was to communicate with them, at or near this spot, and would
hasten in that direction, in order to be in readiness to profit by
circumstances. This artifice was well managed; since the sweep of the
bay, the curvature of the lake, and the low marshy land that intervened,
would probably allow the ark to reach the rock before its pursuers, if
really collected near this point, could have time to make the circuit
that would be required to get there by land. With a view to aid this
deception, Deerslayer stood as near the western shore as was at all
prudent; and then causing Judith and Hetty to enter the house, or cabin,
and crouching himself so as to conceal his person by the frame of the
scow, he suddenly threw the head of the latter round, and began to make
the best of his way towards the outlet. Favored by an increase in
the wind, the progress of the ark was such as to promise the complete
success of this plan, though the crab-like movement of the craft
compelled the helmsman to keep its head looking in a direction very
different from that in which it was actually moving.

 Deerslayer awakens to discover that his calculations about the current of Glimmerglass and the effect of the wind have been very inaccurate: One canoe has drifted toward the shore and is soon grounded on a small sunken rock a few yards from land. Although he feels that the Mingos cannot be far away, Deerslayer must take a chance and get the canoe. He is almost ashore when an Indian shoots, and Deerslayer narrowly escapes being hit. The advantage is now his, but Natty cannot shoot an enemy unless both have a fair and equal chance to defend or to attack. Reaching the beached canoe, Deerslayer challenges his opponent to an honorable confrontation. Startled and bewildered by this unusual action, the Mingo argues with the white man about the possession of the canoe. Natty states directly that the canoe belongs to Hutter, and the Indian apparently accepts this explanation. Deerslayer, happening to glance backward as he prepares to depart, sees the Indian preparing to shoot him. Natty fires quickly, and two shots are heard simultaneously. Rushing at Deerslayer, the Mingo hurls his tomahawk which the former adroitly catches; and the savage, wounded fatally by the bullet, falls at Natty's feet. Deerslayer brings the dying Indian to the lake for water which the Indian has requested. He also arranges the savage in a comfortable position and does not scalp his fallen foe. Sighting another Indian and hearing shouts of others compel Deerslayer to flee from the scene of his "first warpath." In the canoe, he notices that one of the other boats is behaving very strangely by not following the direction of the current and the wind and is heading toward land. Suddenly realizing that another Mingo must be hidden in the wayward canoe and rowing silently, Deerslayer directs his own canoe toward the errant boat and gives the Indian a chance to leap into the lake. Natty cannot honorably shoot the savage because he has deduced that the Indian must be unarmed. As the sunrise begins to flood the whole expanse of Glimmerglass, Deerslayer returns to the castle where Judith and Hetty are waiting anxiously for him after the terrible disaster of the night. For the first time, Deerslayer is moved by the radiant beauty of Judith. Deerslayer tells the two girl s what has happened to their father and Hurry Harry. He cautions them to be patient until Chingachgook arrives this evening because there will then be one more defender of the ark and castle. Although reluctant to discuss his mission with Chingachgook, Natty later explains to the girls his reason for being at the lake. Chingachgook is in love with Wah-ta!-Wah , who has been kidnapped by the Mingos, aided by the traitorous Delaware, Briarthorn . The time for the rendezvous nears and Deerslayer, Judith, and Hetty take the ark on a zigzag course along the lake in order to confuse and tire the Indians who are undoubtedly trying to follow their movements. Luck is with them, and they arrive at the rock close to the agreed time.

