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Deerslayer laughed heartily at his own conceit, and, in a minute or two, they were both standing on the platform, selecting some object in the ark for their target. Judith was led by curiosity to their side.

“Stand back, gal, stand a little back; these we’pons have been long loaded,” said Deerslayer, “and some accident may happen in the discharge.”

“Then you shall not fire them! Give them both to the Delaware; or it would be better to unload them without firing.”

“That’s ag‘in usage—and some people say ag’in manhood; though I hold no such silly doctrine. We must fire ‘em, Judith; yes, we must fire ’em; though I foresee that neither will have any great reason to boast of his skill.”

Judith, in the main, was a girl of great personal spirit, and her habits prevented her from feeling any of the terror that is apt to come over her sex at the report of firearms. She had discharged many a rifle, and had even been known to kill a deer, under circumstances that were favorable to the effort. She submitted, therefore, falling a little back by the side of Deerslayer, giving the Indian the front of the platform to himself Chingachgook raised the weapon several times, endeavored to steady it by using both hands, changed his attitude, from one that was awkward to another still more so, and finally drew the trigger with a sort of desperate indifference, without having, in reality, secured any aim at all. The consequence was, that instead of hitting the knot, which had been selected for the mark, he missed the ark altogether; the bullet skipping along the water like a stone that was thrown by hand.

“Well done! Sarpent; well done!” cried Deerslayer, laughing with his noiseless glee, “you’ve hit the lake, and that’s an expl‘ite for some men! I know’d it, and as much as said it here, to Judith; for your short we’pons don’t belong to redskin gifts. You’ve hit the lake, and that’s better than only hitting the air! Now, stand back, and let us see what white gifts can do with a white we’pon. A pistol isn’t a rifle; but color is color.”

The aim of Deerslayer was both quick and steady, and the report followed almost as soon as the weapon rose. Still the pistol hung fire, as it is termed, and fragments of it flew in a dozen directions, some falling on the roof of the castle, others in the ark, and one in the water. Judith screamed, and when the two men turned anxiously towards the girl, she was as pale as death, trembling in every limb.

“She’s wounded—yes, the poor gal’s wounded, Sarpent, though one couldn’t foresee it, standing where she did. We’ll lead her in to a seat, and we must do the best for her that our knowledge and skill can afford.”

Judith allowed herself to be supported to a seat, swallowed a mouthful of the water that the Delaware offered to her in a gourd, and after a violent fit of trembling, that seemed ready to shake her fine frame to dissolution, she burst into tears.

“The pain must be borne, poor Judith—yes, it must be borne,” said Deerslayer, soothingly; “though I am far from wishing you not to weep; for weeping often lightens galish feelin’s. Where can she be hurt, Sarpent? I see no signs of blood, nor any rent of skin or garments.”

“I am uninjured, Deerslayer,” stammered the girl through her tears. “It’s fright—nothing more, I do assure you; and, God be praised! no one, I find, has been harmed by the accident.”

“This is extr‘ornary!” exclaimed the unsuspecting and simpleminded hunter. “I thought, Judith, you’d been above settlement weaknesses, and that you was a gal not to be frightened by the sound of a bursting we’pon. No, I didn’t think you so skeary! Hetty might well have been startled; but you’ve too much judgment and reason to be frightened when the danger’s all over. They’re pleasant to the eye, chief, and changeful, but very unsartain in their feelin’s!”

Shame kept Judith silent. There had been no acting in her agitation, but all had fairly proceeded from sudden and uncontrollable alarm—an alarm that she found almost as inexplicable to herself, as it proved to be to her companions. Wiping