Chapter 7 - Page 2

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. 'T 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