 of activity to remove.
    The war that then had its rise was stirring and bloody. The Delaware chief
rose among his people, until his name was never mentioned without eulogiums,
while another Uncas, the last of his race, was added to the long line of
warriors who bore that distinguishing appellation. As for the Deerslayer, under
the sobriquet of Hawkeye, he made his fame spread far and near, until the crack
of his rifle became as terrible to the ears of the Mingos, as the thunders of
the Manitou. His services were soon required by the officers of the crown, and
he especially attached himself, in the field, to one in particular, with whose
after life, he had a close and important connection.
    Fifteen years had passed away, ere it was in the power of the Deerslayer to
revisit the Glimmerglass. A peace had intervened, and it was on the eve of
another and still more important war, when he and his constant friend,
Chingachgook, were hastening to the forts to join their allies. A stripling
accompanied them, for Hist already slumbered beneath the pines of the Delawares,
and the three survivors had now become inseparable. They reached the lake just
as the sun was setting. Here all was unchanged. The river still rushed through
its bower of trees; the little rock was washing away, by the slow action of the
waves, in the course of centuries, the mountains stood in their native dress,
dark, rich and mysterious, while the sheet glistened in its solitude, a
beautiful gem of the forest.
    The following morning, the youth discovered one of the canoes drifted on the
shore, in a state of decay. A little labor put it in a state for service, and
they all embarked, with a desire to examine the place. All the points were
passed, and Chingachgook pointed out to his son, the spot where the Hurons had
first encamped, and the point whence he had succeeded in stealing his bride.
Here they even landed, but all traces of the former visit had disappeared. Next
they proceeded to the scene of the battle, and there they found a few of the
signs that linger around such localities. Wild beasts had disinterred many of
the bodies, and human bones were bleaching in the rains of summer. Uncas
regarded all with reverence and pity, though traditions were already rousing his
young mind to the ambition and sternness of a warrior.
    From the point, the canoe took its way toward the shoal, where the remains
of the castle were still visible, a picturesque ruin. The storms of winter had
long since
