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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Deerslayer"

The
mountains, indeed, gave back but a single echo. Deerslayer dropped
his piece, and stood with head erect, steady as one of the pines
in the calm of a June morning, watching the result; while the
savage gave the yell that has become historical for its appalling
influence, leaped through the bushes, and came bounding across the
open ground, flourishing a tomahawk. Still Deerslayer moved not,
but stood with his unloaded rifle fallen against his shoulders,
while, with a hunter's habits, his hands were mechanically feeling
for the powder-horn and charger. When about forty feet from his
enemy, the savage hurled his keen weapon; but it was with an eye
so vacant, and a hand so unsteady and feeble, that the young man
caught it by the handle as it was flying past him. At that instant
the Indian staggered and fell his whole length on the ground.
"I know'd it - I know'd it!" exclaimed Deerslayer, who was already
preparing to force a fresh bullet into his rifle; "I know'd it must
come to this, as soon as I had got the range from the creatur's
eyes. A man sights suddenly, and fires quick when his own life's
in danger; yes, I know'd it would come to this. I was about the
hundredth part of a second too quick for him, or it might have
been bad for me! The riptyle's bullet has just grazed my side -but
say what you will for or ag'in 'em, a red-skin is by no means as
sartain with powder and ball as a white man.


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