"
"Look this a way, Hurry--here, in a line with the black oak-don't
you see the crooked sapling that is hooked up in the branches of
the bass-wood, near it? Now, that sapling was once snow-ridden,
and got the bend by its weight; but it never straightened itself,
and fastened itself in among the bass-wood branches in the way you
see. The hand of man did that act of kindness for it."
"That hand was mine!" exclaimed Hurry; "I found the slender
young thing bent to the airth, like an unfortunate creatur' borne
down by misfortune, and stuck it up where you see it. After all,
Deerslayer, I must allow, you're getting to have an oncommon good
eye for the woods!"
"'Tis improving, Hurry-- 'tis improving I will acknowledge; but
'tis only a child's eye, compared to some I know. There's Tamenund,
now, though a man so old that few remember when he was in his
prime, Tamenund lets nothing escape his look, which is more like
the scent of a hound than the sight of an eye. Then Uncas, the
father of Chingachgook, and the lawful chief of the Mohicans, is
another that it is almost hopeless to pass unseen. I'm improving,
I will allow-- I'm improving, but far from being perfect, as yet.
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