glided
noiselessly away, holding its course towards the centre of the lake, until safe
from shot, after which it sought the Ark.
    When Deerslayer reached the fire, he found himself surrounded by no less
than eight grim savages, among whom was his old acquaintance Rivenoak. As soon
as the latter caught a glimpse of the captive's countenance, he spoke apart to
his companions, and a low, but general exclamation of pleasure and surprise
escaped them. They knew that the conqueror of their late friend, he who had
fallen on the opposite side of the lake, was in their hands, and subject to
their mercy, or vengeance. There was no little admiration mingled in the
ferocious looks that were thrown on the prisoner; an admiration that was as much
excited by his present composure, as by his past deeds. This scene may be said
to have been the commencement of the great and terrible reputation that
Deerslayer, or Hawkeye, as he was afterwards called, enjoyed among all the
tribes of New York and Canada; a reputation that was certainly more limited in
its territorial and numerical extent, than those which are possessed in
civilized life, but which was compensated for what it wanted in these
particulars, perhaps, by its greater justice, and the total absence of
mystification and management.
    The arms of Deerslayer were not pinioned, and he was left the free use of
his hands, his knife having been first removed. The only precaution that was
taken to secure his person was untiring watchfulness, and a strong rope of bark
that passed from ancle to ancle, not so much to prevent his walking, as to place
an obstacle in the way of his attempting to escape by any sudden leap. Even this
extra provision against flight was not made, until the captive had been brought
to the light, and his character ascertained. It was, in fact, a compliment to
his prowess, and he felt proud of the distinction. That he might be bound when
the warriors slept he thought probable, but to be bound in the moment of
capture, showed that he was already, and thus early, attaining a name. While the
young Indians were fastening the rope, he wondered if Chingachgook would have
been treated in the same manner, had he too fallen into the hands of the enemy.
Nor did the reputation of the young pale face rest altogether on his success in
the previous combat, or in his discriminating and cool manner of managing the
late negotiation, for it had received a great accession by the occurrences of
the night. Ignorant of the movements of the Ark, and of the