, but for an
influence derived from his father; an aged warrior of great merit, who was then
in the lodges of the tribe. Still, our hero maintained an appearance of
self-possession. He had made up his mind that his hour was come, and it would
have been a mercy, instead of a calamity, to fall by the unsteadiness of the
first hand that was raised against him. After a suitable number of flourishes,
and gesticulations that promised much more than he could perform, the Raven let
the tomahawk quit his hand. The weapon whirled through the air, with the usual
evolutions, cut a chip from the sapling to which the prisoner was bound, within
a few inches of his cheek, and stuck in a large oak that grew several yards
behind him. This was decidedly a bad effort, and a common sneer proclaimed as
much, to the great mortification of the young man. On the other hand, there was
a general but suppressed murmur of admiration, at the steadiness with which the
captive stood the trial. The head was the only part he could move, and this had
been purposely left free, that the tormentors might have the amusement, and the
tormented endure the shame, of his dodging, and otherwise attempting to avoid
the blows. Deerslayer disappointed these hopes, by a command of nerve that
rendered his whole body as immovable as the tree to which he was bound. Nor did
he even adopt the natural and usual expedient of shutting his eyes, the firmest
and oldest warrior of the red-men never having more disdainfully denied himself
this advantage, under similar circumstances.
    The Raven had no sooner made his unsuccessful and puerile effort, than he
was succeeded by le Daim-Mose, or the Moose; a middle aged warrior, who was
particularly skilful in the use of the tomahawk, and from whose attempt the
spectators confidently looked for gratification. This man had none of the good
nature of the Raven, but he would gladly have sacrificed the captive to his
hatred of the pale faces generally, were it not for the greater interest he felt
in his own success as one particularly skilled in the use of this weapon. He
took his stand quietly, but with an air of confidence, poised his little axe but
a single instant, advanced a foot with a quick motion, and threw. Deerslayer saw
the keen instrument whirling towards him, and believed all was over; still, he
was not touched. The tomahawk had actually bound the head of the captive to the
tree, by carrying before it some of his hair, having buried itself deep beneath
