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. Their gifts don't seem to lie that a way. Even Chingachgook, great
as he is in other matters, isn't downright deadly with the rifle."

By this time the piece was reloaded, and Deerslayer, after tossing the
tomahawk into the canoe, advanced to his victim, and stood over him,
leaning on his rifle, in melancholy attention. It was the first
instance in which he ha seen a man fall in battle--it was the first
fellow-creature against whom he had ever seriously raised his own hand.
The sensations were novel; and regret, with the freshness of our better
feelings, mingled with his triumph. The Indian was not dead, though shot
directly through the body. He lay on his back motionless, but his eyes,
now full of consciousness, watched each action of his victor--as the
fallen bird regards the fowler--jealous of every movement. The man
probably expected the fatal blow which was to precede the loss of his
scalp; or perhaps he anticipated that this latter act of cruelty
would precede his death. Deerslayer read his thoughts; and he found a
melanc