Suddenly he was up and alert, for he fancied he heard the
preconcerted signal of Hurry summoning him to the shore. But all
was still as the grave again. The canoes were slowly drifting
northward, the thoughtful stars were glimmering in their mild glory
over his head, and the forest-bound sheet of water lay embedded
between its mountains, as calm and melancholy as if never troubled
by the winds, or brightened by a noonday sun. Once more the loon
raised his tremulous cry, near the foot of the lake, and the mystery
of the alarm was explained. Deerslayer adjusted his hard pillow,
stretched his form in the bottom of the canoe, and slept.
Chapter VII.
"Clear, placid Leman I Thy contrasted lake
With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing
Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake
Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring.
This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing
To waft me from distraction; once I loved
Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring
Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved,
That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved."
BYRON.
Day had fairly dawned before the young man, whom we have left in
the situation described in the last chapter, again opened his eyes.
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