, 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