Chapter 27

"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