The situation of Deerslayer was now more critical than it ever had
been. He was virtually surrounded on three sides, having the lake
on the fourth. But he had pondered well on all the chances, and
took his measures with coolness, even while at the top of his speed.
As is generally the case with the vigorous border men, he could
outrun any single Indian among his pursuers, who were principally
formidable to him on account of their numbers, and the advantages
they possessed in position, and he would not have hesitated to
break off in a straight line at any spot, could he have got the
whole band again fairly behind him. But no such chance did, or
indeed could now offer, and when he found that he was descending
towards the glen, by the melting away of the ridge, he turned
short, at right angles to his previous course, and went down the
declivity with tremendous velocity, holding his way towards the
shore. Some of his pursuers came panting up the hill in direct
chase, while most still kept on in the ravine, intending to head
him at its termination.
Deerslayer had now a different, though a desperate project in view.
Abandoning all thoughts of escape by the woods, he made the best
of his way towards the canoe.
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