Deerslayer lay passive a few minutes longer, his eye at the bullet
hole, however, and much did he rejoice at seeing that he was
drifting, gradually, farther and farther from the shore. When he
looked upward, the treetops had disappeared, but he soon found that
the canoe was slowly turning, so as to prevent his getting a view
of anything at his peephole, but of the two extremities of the lake.
He now bethought him of the stick, which was crooked and offered
some facilities for rowing without the necessity of rising. The
experiment succeeded on trial, better even than he had hoped, though
his great embarrassment was to keep the canoe straight. That his
present manoeuvre was seen soon became apparent by the clamor on
the shore, and a bullet entering the stern of the canoe traversed
its length, whistling between the arms of our hero, and passed out
at the head. This satisfied the fugitive that he was getting away
with tolerable speed, and induced him to increase his efforts.
He was making a stronger push than common, when another messenger
from the point broke the stick out-board, and at once deprived him
of his oar. As the sound of voices seemed to grow more and more
distant, however, Deerslayer determined to leave all to the drift,
until he believed himself beyond the reach of bullets.
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