This book has not been
written without many misgivings as to its probable reception. To carry one and
the same character through five several works would seem to be a wilful overdrawing
on the good-nature of the public, and many persons may very reasonably suppose
it an act, of itself, that ought to invite a rebuke. To this natural objection,
the author can only say that, if he has committed a grave fault on this
occasion, his readers are in some measure answerable for it. The favourable
manner in which the more advanced career, and the death, of Leather Stocking,
were received, has created, in the mind of the author at least, a sort of
necessity for giving some account of his younger days. In short, the pictures
of his life, such as they are, were already so complete as to excite some
little desire to see the ‘study,’ from which they have all been drawn.
“The Leather-Stocking
Tales,” now form something like a drama in five acts; complete as to material
and design, though quite probably very incomplete as to execution. Such as they
are, the reading world has them before it. The author hopes, should it decide
that this particular act, the last in execution, though the first in the order
of perusal, is not the best of the series, it will also come to the conclusion
that it is not absolutely the worst. More than once, he has been tempted to
burn his manuscript, and to turn to some other subject, though he has met with
an encouragement, in the course of his labours, of a character so singular, as
to be worth mentioning. An anonymous letter from England has reached him,
written, as he thinks, by a lady, in which he is urged to do almost the very
thing he had already more than half executed; a request that he has been
willing enough to construe into a sign that his attempt will be partially
forgiven, if not altogether commended.
Little need be said
concerning the characters and scenery of this tale. The former are fictitious,
as a matter of course; but the latter is as true to nature as an intimate
knowledge of the present appearance of the region described, and such probable
conjectures concerning its ancient state as could be furnished by the
imagination, enabled the writer to render it. The lake, mountains, valley and
forests, are all believed to be sufficiently exact; while the river, rock and
shoal are faithful transcripts from nature. Even the points exist, a little
altered by civilization, but so nearly answering to the descriptions, as to be
easily recognized by all who are familiar with the scenery of the particular
region in question.
As to the accuracy of
the incidents of this tale, in whole or in part, it is the intention of the
author to stand on his rights, and say no more than he deems to be necessary.
In the great struggle for veracity that is carrying on between History and
Fiction, the latter has so often the best of it, that he is quite willing to
refer the reader to his own researches, by way of settling this particular
point. Should it appear, on inquiry, that any professed historian, the public
documents, or even the local traditions, contradict the statements of this
book, the writer is ready to admit that the circumstance has entirely escaped
his observation, and to confess his ignorance. On the other hand, should it be
found that the annals of America do not contain a syllable in opposition to
what has been now laid before the world, as he firmly believes investigation
will show to be the case, he shall claim for his legend just as much authority
as it deserves.
There is a respectable
class of novel-readers --respectable for numbers, quite as much as for every
thing else--who have often been likened to the man that “sings when he reads,
and reads when he sings.” These persons are exceedingly imaginative in all
matters of fact, and as literal as a school-boy’s translation, in every thing
that relates to poetry. For the benefit of all such persons, it is explicitly
stated, that Judith Hutter is Judith Hutter, and not Judith any one else; and,
generally, that wherever a coincidence may occur in a christian name, or in the
colour of hair, nothing more is meant than can properly be inferred from a
coincidence in a christian name, or in the colour of hair. Long experience has
taught the writer that this portion of his readers is much the most difficult
to please; and he would respectfully suggest, for the benefit of both parties,
that they try the experiment of reading works of the imagination as if they
were intended for matters of fact. Such a plan might possibly enable them to
believe in the possibility of fiction.
There is another class
of readers--less important certainly, in a republican country, inas-much as it
is materially in the minority--which is addicted to taking things as they are
offered, and of understanding them as they are meant. These persons are advised
to commence at chapter first, and to read consecutively, just as far as the
occupation may prove agreeable to themselves, and not a page beyond it. Should
any of this class reach the end of the book, and fancy the time spent in the
perusal not entirely thrown away, the circumstance will afford its author
sincere gratification.
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the
lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music
in its roar: I love not man the less, but nature more, From these our
interviews, in which I steal, From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle
with the universe, and feel What I
can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.”
Childe Harold On the human
imagination, events produce the effects of time. Thus, he who has travelled far
and seen much, is apt to fancy that he has lived long; and the history that
most abounds in important incidents, soonest assumes the aspect of antiquity.
In no other way can we account for the venerable air that is already gathering
around American annals. When the mind reverts to the earliest days of colonial
history, the period seems remote and obscure, the thousand changes that thicken
along the links of recollections, throwing back the origin of the nation to a
day so distant as seemingly to reach the mists of time; and yet four lives of
ordinary duration would suffice to transmit, from mouth to mouth, in the form
of tradition, all that civilized man has achieved within the limits of the
republic. Although New York, alone, possesses a population materially exceeding
that of either of the four smallest kingdoms of Europe, or materially exceeding
that of the entire Swiss Confederation, it is little more than two centuries
since the Dutch commenced their settlement, rescuing the region from the savage
state. Thus, what seems venerable by an accumulation of changes, is reduced to familiarity
when we come seriously to consider it solely in connection with time.
This glance into the
perspective of the past, will prepare the reader to look at the pictures we are
about to sketch, with less surprise than he might otherwise feel; and a few
additional explanations may carry him back in imagination, to the precise
condition of society that we desire to delineate. It is matter of history that
the settlements on the eastern shores of the Hudson, such as Claverack,
Kinderhook, and even Poughkeepsie, were not regarded as safe from Indian
incursions a century since; and there is still standing on the banks of the
same river, and within musketshot of the wharves of Albany, a residence of a
younger branch of the Van Rensselaers, that has loop-holes constructed for
defence against the same crafty enemy, although it dates from a period scarcely
so distant. Other similar memorials of the infancy of the country are to be
found, scattered through what is now deemed the very centre of American
civilization, affording the plainest proofs that all we possess of security
from invasion and hostile violence, is the growth of but little more than the
time that is frequently filled by a single human life.
The incidents of this
tale occurred between the years 1740 and 1745, when the settled portions of the
colony of New York were confined to the four Atlantic counties, a narrow belt
of country on each side of the Hudson, extending from its mouth to the falls
near its head, and to a few advanced “neighbourhoods” on the Mohawk and the
Schoharie. Broad belts of the virgin wilderness, not only reached the shores of
the first river, but they even crossed it, stretching away into New England,
and affording forest covers to the noiseless moccasin of the native warrior, as
he trod the secret and bloody war-path. A bird’s-eye view of the whole region
east of the Mississippi, must then have offered one vast expanse of woods,
relieved by a comparatively narrow fringe of cultivation along the sea, dotted
by the glittering surfaces of lakes, and intersected by the waving lines of
rivers. In such a vast picture of solemn solitude, the district of country we
design to paint sinks into insignificance, though we feel encouraged to proceed
by the conviction that, with slight and immaterial distinctions, he who
succeeds in giving an accurate idea of any portion of this wild region, must
necessarily convey a tolerably correct notion of the whole.
Whatever may be the
changes produced by man, the eternal round of the seasons is unbroken. Summer
and winter, seed-time and harvest, return in their stated order, with a sublime
precision, affording to man one of the noblest of all the occasions he enjoys
of proving the high powers of his far-reaching mind, in compassing the laws
that control their exact uniformity, and in calculating their never-ending
revolutions. Centuries of summer suns had warmed the tops of the same noble
oaks and pines, sending their heats even to the tenacious roots, when voices
were heard calling to each other, in the depths of a forest, of which the leafy
surface lay bathed in the brilliant light of a cloudless day in June, while the
trunks of the trees rose in gloomy grandeur in the shades beneath. The calls
were in different tones, evidently proceeding from two men who had lost their
way, and were searching in different directions for their path. At length a
shout proclaimed success, and presently a man broke out of the tangled
labyrinth of a small swamp, emerging into an opening that appeared to have been
formed partly by the ravages of the wind, and partly by those of fire. This
little area, which afforded a good view of the sky, although it was pretty well
filled with dead trees, lay on the side of one of the high hills, or low
mountains, into which nearly the whole surface of the adjacent country was
broken.
“Here is room to
breathe in!” exclaimed the liberated forester, as soon as he found himself
under a clear sky, shaking his huge frame like a mastiff that has just escaped
from a snow-bank; “Hurrah! Deerslayer; here is day-light, at last, and yonder
is the lake.”
These words were
scarcely uttered when the second forester dashed aside the bushes of the swamp,
and appeared in the area. After making a hurried adjustment of his arms and
disordered dress, he joined his companion, who had already begun his
dispositions for a halt.
“Do you know this spot?”
demanded the one called Deerslayer, “or do you shout at the sight of the sun?”
“Both, lad, both; I
know the spot, and am not sorry to see so useful a friend as the sun. Now we
have got the p’ints of the compass in our minds, once more, and ’t will be our
own faults if we let any thing turn them topsyturvy ag’in, as has just
happened. My name is not Hurry Harry, if this be not the very spot where the
land-hunters ’camped the last summer, and passed a week. See, yonder are the
dead bushes of their bower, and here is the spring. Much as I like the sun,
boy, I’ve no occasion for it to tell me it is noon; this stomach of mine is as
good a time-piece as is to be found in the colony, and it already p’ints to
half past twelve. So open the wallet, and let us wind up for another six hours’
run.”
At this suggestion,
both set themselves about making the preparations necessary for their usual
frugal, but hearty, meal. We will profit by this pause in the discourse to give
the reader some idea of the appearance of the men, both of whom are destined to
enact no insignificant parts in our legend. It would not have been easy to find
a more noble specimen of vigorous manhood, than was offered in the person of
him who called himself Hurry Harry. His real name was Henry March; but the
frontier-men having caught the practice of giving sobriquets, from the Indians,
the appellation of Hurry was far oftener applied to him than his proper designation,
and not unfrequently he was termed Hurry Skurry, a nick-name he had obtained
from a dashing, reckless, off-hand manner, and a physical restlessness that
kept him so constantly on the move, as to cause him to be known along the whole
line of scattered habitations that lay between the province and the Canadas.
The stature of Hurry Harry exceeded six feet four, and being unusually well
proportioned, his strength fully realized the idea created by his gigantic
frame. The face did no discredit to the rest of the man, for it was both
good-humoured and handsome. His air was free, and though his manner necessarily
partook of the rudeness of a border life, the grandeur that pervaded so noble a
physique prevented it from becoming altogether vulgar.
Deerslayer, as Hurry
called his companion, was a very different person in appearance, as well as in
character. In stature, he stood about six feet in his moccasins, but his frame
was comparatively light and slender, showing muscles, however, that promised
unusual agility, if not unusual strength. His face would have had little to
recommend it except youth, were it not for an expression that seldom failed to
win upon those who had leisure to examine it, and to yield to the feeling of
confidence it created. This expression was simply that of guileless truth,
sustained by an earnestness of purpose, and a sincerity of feeling, that
rendered it remarkable. At times this air of integrity seemed to be so simple
as to awaken the suspicion of a want of the usual means to discriminate between
artifice and truth; but few came in serious contact with the man, without
losing this distrust in respect for his opinions and motives.
Both these frontier-men
were still young, Hurry having reached the age of six or eight and twenty, while
Deerslayer was several years his junior. Their attire needs no particular
description, though it may be well to add that it was composed in no small
degree of dressed deer-skins, and had the usual signs of belonging to those who
passed their time between the skirts of civilized society and the boundless
forests. There was, notwithstanding, some attention to smartness and the
picturesque in the arrangements of Deerslayer’s dress, more particularly in the
part connected with his arms and accountrements. His rifle was in perfect
condition, the handle of his hunting-knife was neatly carved, his powder-horn
was ornamented with suitable devices, lightly cut into the material, and his
shot-pouch was decorated with wampum. On the other hand, Hurry Harry, either from
constitutional recklessness, or from a secret consciousness how little his
appearance required artificial aids, wore every thing in a careless, slovenly
manner, as if he felt a noble scorn for the trifling accessories of dress and
ornaments. Perhaps the peculiar effect of his fine form and great stature was
increased, rather than lessened, by this unstudied and disdainful air of
indifference.
“Come, Deerslayer, fall
to, and prove that you have a Delaware stomach, as you say you have had a
Delaware edication,” cried Hurry, setting the example by opening his mouth to
receive a slice of cold venison steak that would have made an entire meal for a
European peasant; “fall to, lad, and prove your manhood on this poor devil of a
doe, with your teeth, as you’ve already done with your rifle.”
“Nay, nay, Hurry, there’s
little manhood in killing a doe, and that, too, out of season; though there
might be some in bringing down a painter, or a catamount,” returned the other,
disposing himself to comply. “The Delawares have given me my name, not so much
on account of a bold heart, as on account of a quick eye, and an actyve foot.
There may not be any cowardyce in overcoming a deer, but sartain it is, there’s
no great valour.”
“The Delawares,
themselves, are no heroes,” muttered Hurry through his teeth, the mouth being
too full to permit it to be fairly opened, “or they would never have allowed
them loping vagabonds, the Mingos, to make them women.”
“That matter is not
rightly understood--has never been rightly explained,” said Deerslayer
earnestly, for he was as zealous a friend, as his companion was dangerous as an
enemy; “the Mengwe fill the woods with their lies, and misconceive words and
treaties. I have now lived ten years with the Delawares, and know them to be as
manful as any other nation, when the proper time to strike comes.”
“Harkee, Master
Deerslayer, since we are on the subject, we may as well open our minds to each
other in a man-to-man way; answer me one question; you have had so much luck
among the game as to have gotten a title, it would seem, but did you ever hit
any thing human or intelligible: did you ever pull trigger on an inimy that was
capable of pulling one upon you?”
This question produced
a singular collision between mortification and correct feeling, in the bosom of
the youth, that was easily to be traced in the workings of his ingenuous
countenance. The struggle was short, however; uprightness of heart soon getting
the better of false pride, and frontier boastfulness.
“To own the truth, I never
did,” answered Deerslayer; “seeing that a fitting occasion never offered. The
Delawares have been peaceable since my sojourn with ’em, and I hold it to be
onlawful to take the life of man, except in open and ginerous warfare.”
“What! did you never
find a fellow thieving among your traps and skins, and do the law on him, with
your own hands, by way of saving the magistrates trouble, in the settlements,
and the rogue himself the costs of the suit?”
“I am no trapper,
Hurry,” returned the young man proudly: “I live by the rifle, a we’pon at which
I will not turn my back on any man of my years, atween the Hudson and the St.
Lawrence. I never offer a skin that has not a hole in its head besides them
which natur’ made to see with, or to breathe through.”
“Ay, ay, this is all
very well, in the animal way, though it makes but a poor figure alongside of
scalps and and-bushes. Shooting an Indian from an and-bush is acting up to his
own principles, and now we have what you call a lawful war on our hands, the
sooner you wipe that disgrace off your conscience, the sounder will be your
sleep; if it only come from knowing there is one inimy the less prowling in the
woods. I shall not frequent your society long, friend Natty, unless you look
higher than four-footed beasts to practyse your rifle on.”
“Our journey is nearly
ended, you say, Master March, and we can part to-night, if you see occasion. I
have a fri’nd waiting for me, who will think it no disgrace to consort with a
fellow-creatur’ that has never yet slain his kind.”
“I wish I knew what has
brought that skulking Delaware into this part of the country so early in the
season,” muttered Hurry to himself, in a way to show equally distrust and a
recklessness of its betrayal. “Where did you say the young chief was to give
you the meeting?”
“At a small, round
rock, near the foot of the lake, where, they tell me, the tribes are given to
resorting to make their treaties, and to bury their hatchets. This rock have I
often heard the Delawares mention, though lake and rock are equally strangers
to me. The country is claimed by both Mingos and Mohicans, and is a sort of
common territory to fish and hunt through, in time of peace, though what it may
become in war-time, the Lord only knows!”
“Common territory!”
exclaimed Hurry, laughing aloud. “I should like to know what Floating Tom
Hutter would say to that? He claims the lake as his own property, in vartue of
fifteen years’ possession, and will not be likely to give it up to either Mingo
or Delaware, without a battle for it.”
“And what will the
colony say to such a quarrel? All this country must have some owner, the gentry
pushing their cravings into the wilderness, even where they never dare to
ventur’, in their own persons, to look at’em.”
“That may do in other
quarters of the colony, Deerslayer, but it will not do here. Not a human being,
the Lord excepted, owns a foot of s’ile in this part of the country. Pen was
never put to paper, consarning either hill or valley, hereaway, as I’ve heard
old Tom say, time and ag’in, and so he claims the best right to it of any man
breathing; and what Tom claims, he’ll be very likely to maintain.”
“By what I’ve heard you
say, Hurry, this Floating Tom must be an oncommon mortal; neither Mingo,
Delaware, nor Pale-Face. His possession, too, has been long, by your tell, and
altogether beyond frontier endurance. What’s the man’s history and natur’?”
“Why, as to old Tom’s
human natur’, it is not much like other men’s human natur’, but more like a
musk-rat’s human natur’, seeing that he takes more to the ways of that animal,
than to the ways of any other fellow-creatur’. Some think he was a free liver
on the salt-water, in his youth, and a companion of a sartain Kidd, who was
hanged for piracy, long afore you and I were born, or acquainted, and that he
came up into these regions, thinking that the king’s cruisers could never cross
the mountains, and that he might enjoy the plunder peaceably in the woods.”
“Then he was wrong,
Hurry; very wrong. A man can enjoy plunder peaceably nowhere.”
“That’s much as his
turn of mind may happen to be. I’ve known them that never could enjoy it at
all, unless it was in the midst of a jollification, and them ag’in that enjoyed
it best in a corner. Some men have no peace if they don’t find plunder, and
some if they do. Human natur’ is crooked in these matters. Old Tom seems to
belong to neither set, as he enjoys his, if plunder he has really got, with his
darters, in a very quiet and comfortable way, and wishes for no more.”
“Ay, he has darters,
too; I’ve heard the Delawares, who’ve hunted this-a-way, tell their histories
of these young women. Is there no mother, Hurry?”
“There was once, as in
reason; but she has now been dead and sunk these two good years.”
“Anan?” said
Deerslayer, looking up at his companion in a little surprise.
“Dead and sunk, I say,
and I hope that’s good English. The old fellow lowered his wife into the lake,
by way of seeing the last of her, as I can testify, being an eye-witness of the
ceremony; but whether Tom did it to save digging, which is no easy job among
roots, or out of a consait that water washes away sin sooner than ’arth, is
more than I can say.”
“Was the poor woman
oncommon wicked, that her husband should take so much pains with her body?”
“Not onreasonable;
though she had her faults. I consider Judith Hutter to have been as graceful,
and about as likely to make a good ind, as any woman who had lived so long
beyond the sound of church bells; and I conclude old Tom sunk her as much by
way of saving pains, as by way of taking it. There was a little steel in her
temper, it’s true, and, as old Hutter is pretty much flint, they struck out
sparks once-and-a-while, but, on the whole, they might be said to live amicable
like. When they did kindle, the listeners got some such insights into their
past lives, as one gets into the darker parts of the woods, when a stray gleam
of sunshine finds its way down to the roots of the trees. But Judith I shall
always esteem, as it’s recommend enough to one woman to be the mother of such a
creatur’ as her darter, Judith Hutter!”
“Ay, Judith was the
name the Delawares mentioned, though it was pronounced after a fashion of their
own. From their discourse, I do not think the girl would much please my fancy.”
“Thy fancy!” exclaimed
March, taking fire equally at the indifference and at the presumption of his
companion, “what the devil have you to do with a fancy, and that, too,
consarning one like Judith? You are but a boy--a sapling, that has scarce got
root. Judith has had men among her suitors, ever since she was fifteen; which
is now near five years; and will not be apt even to cast a look upon a
halfgrown creatur’ like you!”
“It is June, and there
is not a cloud atween us and the sun, Hurry, so all this heat is not wanted,”
answered the other, altogether undisturbed; “any one may have a fancy, and a
squirrel has a right to make up his mind touching a catamount.”
“Ay, but it might not
be wise, always, to let the catamount know it,” growled March. “But you’re
young and thoughtless, and I’ll overlook your ignorance. Come, Deerslayer,” he
added, with a good-natured laugh, after pausing a moment to reflect, “come,
Deerslayer, we are sworn fri’nds, and will not quarrel about a light-minded,
jilting jade, just because she happens to be handsome; more especially as you
have never seen her. Judith is only for a man whose teeth show the full marks,
and it’s foolish to be afeard of a boy. What did the Delawares say of the
hussy; for, an Indian, after all, has his notions of woman-kind, as well as a
white man?”
“They said she was fair
to look on, and pleasant of speech; but over-given to admirers, and
light-minded.”
“They are devils
incarnate! After all, what schoolmaster is a match for an Indian, in looking
into natur’? Some people think they are only good on a trail, or the war-path,
but I say that they are philosophers, and understand a man, as well as they
understand a beaver, and a woman as well as they understand either. Now that’s
Judith’s character to a riband! To own the truth to you, Deerslayer, I should
have married the gal two years since, if it had not been for two particular
things, one of which was this very light-mindedness.”
“And what may have been
the other?” demanded the hunter, who continued to eat like one that took very
little interest in the subject.
“T’ other was an
unsartainty about her having me. The hussy is handsome, and she knows it. Boy,
not a tree that is growing in these hills is straighter, or waves in the wind
with an easier bend, nor did you ever see the doe that bounded with a more nat’ral
motion. If that was all, every tongue would sound her praises; but she has such
failings that I find it hard to overlook them, and sometimes I swear I’ll never
visit the lake ag’in.”
“Which is the reason
that you always come back? Nothing is ever made more sure by swearing about it.”
“Ah, Deerslayer, you
are a novelty in these partic’lars; keeping as true to edication as if you had
never left the settlements. With me the case is different, and I never want to
clinch an idee, that I do not feel a wish to swear about it. If you know’d all
that I know consarning Judith, you’d find a justification for a little cursing.
Now, the officers sometimes stray over to the lake, from the forts on the
Mohawk, to fish and hunt, and then the creatur’ seems beside herself! You can
see it in the manner in which she wears her finery, and the airs she gives
herself with the gallants.”
“That is unseemly in a
poor man’s darter,” returned Deerslayer gravely, “the officers are all gentry,
and can only look on such as Judith with evil intentions.”
“There’s the
unsartainty, and the damper! I have my misgivings about a particular captain,
and Jude has no one to blame but her own folly, if I’m wrong. On the whole, I
wish to look upon her as modest and becoming, and yet the clouds that drive
among these hills are not more unsartain. Not a dozen white men have ever laid
eyes upon her, since she was a child, and yet her airs, with two or three of
these officers, are extinguishers!”
“I would think no more
of such a woman, but turn my mind altogether to the forest; that will never
deceive you, being ordered and ruled by a hand that never wavers.”
“If you know’d Judith,
you would see how much easier it is to say this, than it would be to do it.
Could I bring my mind to be easy about the officers, I would carry the gal off
to the Mohawk by force, make her marry me in spite of her whiffling, and leave
old Tom to the care of Hetty, his other child, who, if she be not as handsome,
or as quick-witted as her sister, is much the most dutiful.”
“Is there another bird
in the same nest?” asked Deerslayer, raising his eyes with a species of
half-awakened curiosity--“the Delawares spoke to me only of one.”
“That’s nat’ral enough,
when Judith Hutter and Hetty Hutter are in question. Hetty is only comely,
while her sister, I tell thee, boy, is such another as is not to be found
atween this and the sea: Judith is as full of wit, and talk, and cunning, as an
old Indian orator, while poor Hetty is at the best but ‘compass meant us.’ ”
“Anan?” inquired,
again, the Deerslayer.
“Why, what the officers
call ‘compass meant us,’ which I understand to signify that she means always to
go in the right direction, but sometimes doesn’t know how. ‘Compass’ for the p’int,
and ‘meant us’ for the intention. No, poor Hetty is what I call on the varge of
ignorance, and sometimes she stumbles on one side of the line, and sometimes on
t’ other.”
“Them are beings that
the Lord has in his ’special care,” said Deerslayer, solemnly; “for he looks
carefully to all who fall short of their proper share of reason. The Redskins
honour and respect them who are so gifted, knowing that the Evil Spirit
delights more to dwell in an artful body, than in one that has no cunning to
work upon.”
“I’ll answer for it,
then, that he will not remain long with poor Hetty--for the child is just ‘compass
meant us,’ as I have told you. Old Tom has a feeling for the gal, and so has
Judith, quick-witted and glorious as she is herself; else would I not answer
for her being altogether safe among the sort of men that sometimes meet on the
lake shore.”
“I thought this water
an onknown and little-frequented sheet,” observed the Deerslayer, evidently
uneasy at the idea of being too near the world.
“It’s all that lad, the
eyes of twenty white men never having been laid on it; still, twenty true-bred
frontier-men --hunters, and trappers, and scouts, and the like,--can do a deal
of mischief if they try. ’T would be an awful thing to me, Deerslayer, did I
find Judith married, after an absence of six months!”
“Have you the gal’s
faith, to incourage you to hope otherwise?”
“Not at all. I know not
how it is--I’m good-looking, boy; that much I can see in any spring on which
the sun shines--and yet I could never get the hussy to a promise, or even a
cordial willing smile, though she will laugh by the hour. If she has dared to
marry in my absence, she’ll be like to know the pleasures of widowhood, afore
she is twenty!”
“You would not harm the
man she had chosen, Hurry, simply because she found him more to her liking than
yourself?”
“Why not? If an enemy
crosses my path, will I not beat him out of it! Look at me--am I man like to
let any sneaking, crawling, skin-trader, get the better of me in a matter that
touches me as near as the kindness of Judith Hutter? Besides, when we live
beyond law, we must be our own judges and executioners. And if a man should be
found dead in the woods, who is there to say who slew him, even admitting that
the Colony took the matter in hand, and made a stir about it?”
“If that man should be
Judith Hutter’s husband, after what has passed, I might tell enough, at least,
to put the Colony on the trail.”
“You!--half-grown,
venison-hunting bantling! You, dare to think of informing against Hurry Harry
in so much as a matter touching a mink, or a woodchuck!”
“I would dare to speak
truth, Hurry, consarning you, or any man that ever lived.”
March looked at his
companion, for a moment, in silent amazement; then seizing him by the throat,
with both hands, he shook his comparatively slight frame, with a violence that
menaced the dislocation of some of the bones. Nor was this done jocularly, for
anger flashed from the giant’s eyes, and there were certain signs, that seemed
to threaten much more earnestness than the occasion would appear to call for.
Whatever might be the real intention of March, and it is probable there was
none settled in his mind, it is certain that he was unusually aroused; and most
men who found themselves throttled by one of a mould so gigantic, in such a
mood, and in a solitude so deep and helpless, would have felt intimidated, and
tempted to yield even the right. Not so, however, with Deerslayer. His
countenance remained unmoved; his hand did not shake, and his answer was given
in a voice that did not resort to the artifice of louder tones, even, by way of
proving its owner’s resolution.
“You may shake, Hurry,
until you bring down the mountain,” he said, quietly, “but nothing beside truth
will you shake from me. It is probable that Judith Hutter has no husband to
slay, and you may never have a chance to waylay one, else would I tell her of
your threat, in the first conversation I held with the gal.”
March released his
gripe, and sat regarding the other, in silent astonishment.
“I thought we had been
friends,” he at length added-- “but you’ve got the last secret of mine, that
will ever enter your ears.”
“I want none, if they
are to be like this. I know we live in the woods, Hurry, and are thought to be
beyond human laws--and perhaps we are so, in fact, whatever it may be in
right--but there is a law, and a law maker, that rule across the whole
continent. He that flies in the face of either, need not call me fri’nd.”
“Damme, Deerslayer, if
I do not believe you are, at heart, a Moravian, and no fair-minded,
plain-dealing hunter, as you’ve pretended to be!”
“Fair-minded or not,
Hurry, you will find me as plain-dealing in deeds, as I am in words. But this
giving way to sudden anger is foolish, and proves how little you have sojourned
with the red men. Judith Hutter no doubt is still single, and you spoke but as
the tongue ran, and not as the heart felt. There’s my hand, and we will say and
think no more about it.”
Hurry seemed more
surprised than ever; then he burst forth in a loud good-natured laugh, which
brought tears to his eyes. After this, he accepted the offered hand, and the
parties became friends.
“’T would have been
foolish to quarrel about an idee,” March cried, as he resumed his meal, “and
more like lawyers in the towns, than like sensible men in the woods. They tell
me, Deerslayer, much ill blood grows out of idees, among the people in the
lower counties, and that they sometimes get to extremities upon them.”
“That do they--that do
they; and about other matters that might better be left to take care of themselves.
I have heard the Moravians say that there are lands in which men quarrel even
consarning their religion; and if they can get their tempers up on such a
subject, Hurry, the Lord have marcy on ’em. Howsever, there is no occasion for
our following their example, and more especially about a husband that this
Judith Hutter may never see, or never wish to see. For my part, I feel more cur’osity
about the feeble-witted sister, than about your beauty. There’s something that
comes close to a man’s feelin’s, when he meets with a fellow creatur’ that has
all the outward show of an accountable mortal, and who fails of being what he
seems, only through a lack of reason. This is bad enough in a man, but when it
comes to a woman, and she a young, and may-be a winning creatur’, it touches
all the pitiful thoughts his natur’ has. God knows, Hurry, that such poor
things are defenceless enough with all their wits about ’em; but it’s a cruel
fortun’ when that great protector and guide fails ’em.”
“Harkee,
Deerslayer--you know what the hunters, and trappers, and peltry-men in general
be; and their best friends will not deny that they are headstrong and given to
having their own way, without much bethinking ’em of other people’s rights, or
feelin’s--and yet I don’t think the man is to be found, in all this region, who
would harm Hetty Hutter, if he could; no, not even a red-skin.”
“Therein, fri’nd Hurry,
you do the Delawares, at least, and all their allied tribes, only justice, for
a red-skin looks upon a being thus struck by God’s power, as especially under
his care. I rejoice to hear what you say, howsever, I rejoice to hear it; but
as the sun is beginning to turn towards the afternoon’s sky, had we not better
strike the trail ag’in, and make forward, that we may get an opportunity of
seeing these wonderful sisters?”
Harry March giving a
cheerful assent, the remnants of the meal were soon collected; then the
travellers shouldered their packs, resumed their arms, and, quitting the little
area of light, they again plunged into the deep shadows of the forest.
“Thou ’rt passing from
the lake’s green side,
And the hunter’s hearth away; For
the time of flowers, for the summer’s pride,
Daughter! thou canst not stay.”
Records of Woman Our two adventurers
had not far to go. Hurry knew the direction, as soon as he had found the open
spot and the spring, and he now led on with the confident step of a man assured
of his object. The forest was dark, as a matter of course, but it was no longer
obstructed by under-brush, and the footing was firm and dry. After proceeding
near a mile, March stopped, and began to cast about him with an inquiring look,
examining the different objects with care, and occasionally turning his eyes on
the trunks of the fallen trees, with which the ground was well sprinkled, as is
usually the case in an American wood, especially in those parts of the country
where timber has not yet become valuable.
“This must be the
place, Deerslayer,” March at length observed; “here is a beech by the side of a
hemlock, with three pines at hand, and yonder is a white birch with a broken
top; and yet I see no rock, nor any of the branches bent down, as I told you
would be the case.”
“Broken branches are
onskilful landmarks, as the least-exper’enced know that branches don’t often
break of themselves,” returned the other; “and they also lead to suspicion and
discoveries. The Delawares never trust to broken branches, unless it is in
friendly times, and on an open trail. As for the beeches, and pines, and
hemlocks, why, they are to be seen on all sides of us, not only by two and
three’s, but by forties, and fifties, and hundreds.”
“Very true, Deerslayer,
but you never calculate on position. Here is a beech and a hemlock--”
“Yes, and there is
another beech and a hemlock, as loving as two brothers, or, for that matter,
more loving than some brothers; and yonder are others, for neither tree is a
rarity in these woods. I fear me, Hurry, you are better at trapping beaver and
shooting bears, than at leading on a blindish sort of a trail. Ha! there’s what
you wish to find, after all!”
“Now, Deerslayer, this
is one of your Delaware pretensions, for, hang me if I see any thing but these
trees, which do seem to start up around us, in a most onaccountable and
perplexing manner.”
“Look this-a-way,
Hurry--here, in a line with the black oak--don’t you see the crooked sapling
that is hooked up in the branches of the bass-wood, near it? Now, that sapling
was once snow-ridden, and got the bend by its weight; but it never straightened
itself, and fastened itself in among the bass-wood branches in the way you see.
The hand of man did that act of kindness for it.”
“That hand was mine!”
exclaimed Hurry; “I found the slender, young thing, bent to the airth, like an
unfortunate creatur’ borne down by misfortune, and stuck it up where you see
it. After all, Deerslayer, I must allow, you’re getting to have an oncommon
good eye for the woods!”
“’T is improving,
Hurry--’t is improving, I will acknowledge; but ’t is still only a child’s eye,
compared to some I know. There’s Tamenund, now, though a man so old that few
remember when he was in his prime, Tamenund lets nothing escape his look, which
is more like the scent of a hound, than the sight of an eye. Then Uncas, the
father of Chingachgook, and the lawful chief of the Mohicans, is another that
it is almost hopeless to pass unseen. I’m improving, I will allow--I’m
improving, but far from being perfect, as yet.”
“And who is this
Chingachgook, of whom you talk so much, Deerslayer?” asked Hurry, as he moved
off in the direction of the righted sapling; “a loping red-skin, at the best, I
make no question.”
“Not so, Hurry, but the
best of loping red-skins, as you call ’em. If he had his rights, he would be a
great chief; but, as it is, he is only a brave and just-minded Delaware;
respected, and even obeyed in some things, ’t is true, but of a fallen race,
and belonging to a fallen people. Ah! Harry March, ’t would warm the heart
within you to sit in their lodges of a winter’s night, and listen to the traditions
of the ancient greatness and power of the Mohicans!”
“Harkee, fri’nd
Nathaniel,” said Hurry, stopping short to face his companion, in order that his
words might carry greater weight with them, “if a man believed all that other
people choose to say in their own favour, he might get an oversized opinion of
them, and an undersized opinion of himself. These red-skins are notable
boasters, and I set down more than half of their traditions as pure talk.”
“There is truth in what
you say, Hurry, I’ll not deny it, for I’ve seen it, and believe it. They do
boast, but then that is a gift from natur’; and it’s sinful to withstand nat’ral
gifts. See; this is the spot you come to find!”
This remark cut short
the discourse, and both the men now gave all their attention to the object
immediately before them. Deerslayer pointed out to his companion the trunk of a
huge linden, or bass-wood, as it is termed in the language of the country,
which had filled its time, and fallen by its own weight. This tree, like so
many millions of its brethren, lay where it had fallen, and was mouldering
under the slow, but certain influence of the seasons. The decay, however, had
attacked its centre, even while it stood erect, in the pride of vegetation,
hollowing out its heart, as disease sometimes destroys the vitals of animal
life, even while a fair exterior is presented to the observer. As the trunk lay
stretched for near a hundred feet along the earth, the quick eye of the hunter
detected this peculiarity, and, from this and other circumstances, he knew it
to be the tree of which March was in search.
“Ay, here we have what
we want,” cried Hurry, looking in at the larger end of the linden; “every thing
is as snug as if it had been left in an old woman’s cupboard. Come, lend me a
hand, Deerslayer, and we’ll be afloat in half an hour.”
At this call the hunter
joined his companion, and the two went to work deliberately, and regularly,
like men accustomed to the sort of thing in which they were employed. In the
first place, Hurry removed some pieces of bark that lay before the large
opening in the tree, and which the other declared to be disposed in a way that
would have been more likely to attract attention, than to conceal the cover,
had any straggler passed that way. The two, then, drew out a bark canoe,
containing its seats, paddles, and other appliances, even to fishing lines and
rods. This vessel was by no means small; but such was its comparative
lightness, and so gigantic was the strength of Hurry, that the latter shouldered
it with seeming ease, declining all assistance, even in the act of raising it
to the awkward position in which he was obliged to hold it.
“Lead ahead,
Deerslayer,” said March, “and open the bushes; the rest I can do for myself.”
The other obeyed, and
the men left the spot, Deerslayer clearing the way for his companion, and
inclining to the right, or to the left, as the latter directed. In about ten
minutes, they both broke suddenly into the brilliant light of the sun, on a low
gravelly point, that was washed by water on quite half its outline.
An exclamation of
surprise broke from the lips of Deerslayer, an exclamation that was low and
guardedly made, however, for his habits were much more thoughtful and regulated
than those of the reckless Hurry, when, on reaching the margin of the lake, he
beheld the view that unexpectedly met his gaze. It was, in truth, sufficiently
striking to merit a brief description. On a level with the point lay a broad
sheet of water, so placid and limpid, that it resembled a bed of the pure
mountain atmosphere, compressed into a setting of hills and woods. Its length
was about three leagues, while its breadth was irregular, expanding to half a
league, or even more, opposite to the point, and contracting to less than half
that distance, more to the southward. Of course, its margin was irregular,
being indented by bays, and broken by many projecting, low points. At its
northern, or nearest end, it was bounded by an isolated mountain, lower land
falling off, east and west, gracefully relieving the sweep of the outline.
Still the character of the country was mountainous; high hills, or low
mountains, rising abruptly from the water, on quite nine-tenths of its circuit.
The exceptions, indeed, only served a little to vary the scene; and even beyond
the parts of the shore that were comparatively low, the back-ground was high,
though more distant.
But the most striking
peculiarities of this scene were its solemn solitude, and sweet repose. On all
sides, wherever the eye turned, nothing met it but the mirror-like surface of
the lake, the placid view of heaven, and the dense setting of woods. So rich
and fleecy were the outlines of the forest, that scarce an opening could be
seen, the whole visible earth, from the rounded mountain-top to the water’s
edge, presenting one unvaried hue of unbroken verdure. As if vegetation were
not satisfied with a triumph so complete, the trees overhung the lake itself,
shooting out towards the light; and there were miles along its eastern shore,
where a boat might have pulled beneath the branches of dark Rembrandt-looking
hemlocks, “quivering aspens,” and melancholy pines. In a word, the hand of man
had never yet defaced or deformed any part of this native scene, which lay
bathed in the sun-light, a glorious picture of affluent forest-grandeur,
softened by the balminess of June, and relieved by the beautiful variety
afforded by the presence of so broad an expanse of water.
“This is grand!--’t is
solemn!--’t is an edication of itself, to look upon!” exclaimed Deerslayer, as
he stood leaning on his rifle, and gazing to the right and left, north and
south, above and beneath, in whichever direction his eye could wander; “not a
tree disturbed even by red-skin hand, as I can discover, but every thing left
in the ordering of the Lord, to live and die according to his own designs and
laws! Hurry, your Judith ought to be a moral and well-disposed young woman, if
she has passed half the time you mention in the centre of a spot so favoured.”
“That’s a naked truth;
and yet the gal has the vagaries. All her time has not been passed here,
howsever, old Tom having the custom, afore I know’d him, of going to spend the
winters in the neighbourhood of the settlers, or under the guns of the forts.
No, no, Jude has caught more than is for her good from the settlers, and
especially from the gallantifying officers.”
“If she has--if she
has, Hurry, this is a school to set her mind right ag’in. But what is this I
see off here, abreast of us, that seems too small for an island, and too large
for a boat, though it stands in the midst of the water.”
“Why, that is what
these gallanting gentry, from the forts, call Muskrat Castle; and old Tom,
himself, will grin at the name, though it bears so hard on his own natur’ and
character. ’T is the stationary house, there being two; this, which never
moves, and the other, that floats, being sometimes in one part of the lake, and
sometimes in another. The last goes by the name of the ark, though what may be
the meaning of the word is more than I can tell you.”
“It must come from the
missionaries, Hurry, whom I have heard speak and read of such a thing. They say
that the ’arth was once covered with water, and that Noah, with his children,
were saved from drowning by building a vessel called an ark, in which he
embarked in season. Some of the Delawares believe this tradition, and some deny
it; but it behoves you and me, as white men born, to put our faith in its
truth. Do you see any thing of this ark?”
“’T is down south, no
doubt, or anchored in some of the bays. But the canoe is ready, and fifteen
minutes will carry two such paddles as your’n and mine, to the castle.”
At this suggestion,
Deerslayer helped his companion to place the different articles in the canoe,
which was already afloat. This was no sooner done, than the two frontier-men
embarked, and, by a vigorous push, sent the light bark some eight or ten rods
from the shore. Hurry now took the seat in the stern, while Deerslayer placed
himself forward, and, by leisurely but steady strokes of the paddles, the canoe
glided across the placid sheet, towards the extraordinary-looking structure,
that the former had styled Muskrat Castle. Several times the men ceased
paddling, and looked about them at the scene, as new glimpses opened from
behind points enabling them to see further down the lake, or to get broader
views of the wooded mountains. The only changes, however, were in the new forms
of the hills, the varying curvature of the bays, and the wider reaches of the
valley south; the whole earth, apparently, being clothed in a gala-dress of
leaves.
“This is a sight to
warm the heart!” exclaimed Deerslayer, when they had thus stopped for the
fourth or fifth time; “the lake seems made to let us get an insight into the
noble forests; and land and water, alike, stand in the beauty of God’s
providence! Do you say, Hurry, that there is no man who calls himself lawful
owner of all these glories?”
“None but the King,
lad. He may pretend to some right of that natur’, but he is so far away, that
his claim will never trouble old Tom Hutter, who has got possession, and is
like to keep it as long as his life lasts. Tom is no squatter, not being on
land; but I call him a floater.”
“I invy that man!--I
know it’s wrong, and I strive ag’in the feelin’, but I invy that man! Don’t
think, Hurry, that I’m consarting any plan to put myself in his moccasins, for
such a thought doesn’t harbour in my mind; but I can’t help a little invy! ’T
is a nat’ral feelin’, and the best of us are but nat’ral, after all, and give
way to such feelin’s, at times.”
“You’ve only to marry
Hetty to inherit half the estate,” cried Hurry, laughing; “the gal is comely;
nay, if it was n’t for her sister’s beauty, she would be even handsome; and
then her wits are so small, that you may easily convart her into one of your
own way of thinking, in all things. Do you take Hetty off the old fellow’s
hands, and I’ll engage he’ll give you an interest in every deer you can knock
over within five miles of his lake.”
“Does game abound?”
suddenly demanded the other, who paid but little attention to March’s raillery.
“It has the country to
itself. Scarce a trigger is pulled on it; and as for the trappers, this is not
a region they greatly frequent. I ought not to be so much here, myself, but
Jude pulls one way, while the beaver pulls another. More than a hundred Spanish
dollars has that creatur’ cost me, the two last seasons; and yet I could not
forego the wish to look upon her face once more.”
“Do the red-men often
visit this lake, Hurry?” continued Deerslayer, pursuing his own train of
thought.
“Why, they come and go;
sometimes in parties, and sometimes singly. The country seems to belong to no
native tribe in particular; and so it has fallen into the hands of the Hutter
tribe. The old man tells me that some sharp ones have been wheedling the
Mohawks for an Indian deed, in order to get a title out of the Colony; but
nothing has come of it, seeing that no one, heavy enough for such a trade, has
yet meddled with the matter. The hunters have a good life-lease, still, of this
wilderness.”
“So much the better--so
much the better, Hurry. If I was King of England, the man that felled one of
these trees without good occasion for the timber, should be banished to a
desarted and forlorn region, in which no four-footed animal ever trod. Right
glad am I that Chingachgook app’inted our meeting on this lake, for, hitherto,
eye of mine never looked on such a glorious spectacle!”
“That’s because you’ve
kept so much among the Delawares, in whose country there are no lakes. Now, farther
north, and father west, these bits of water abound; and you’re young, and may
yet live to see ’em. But, though there be other lakes, Deerslayer, there’s no
other Judith Hutter!”
At this remark his
companion smiled, and then he dropped his paddle into the water, as if in
consideration of a lover’s haste. Both now pulled vigorously until they got
within a hundred yards of the “castle,” as Hurry familiarly called the house of
Hutter, when they again ceased paddling; the admirer of Judith restraining his
impatience the more readily, as he perceived that the building was untenanted,
at the moment. This new pause was to enable Deerslayer to survey the singular
edifice, which was of a construction so novel as to merit a particular
description.
Muskrat Castle, as the
house had been facetiously named by some waggish officer, stood in the open
lake, at a distance of fully a quarter of a mile from the nearest shore. On
every other side the water extended much farther, the precise position being
distant about two miles from the northern end of the sheet, and near, if not
quite a mile from its eastern shore. As there was not the smallest appearance
of any island, but the house stood on piles, with the water flowing beneath it,
and Deerslayer had already discovered that the lake was of a great depth, he
was fain to ask an explanation of this singular circumstance. Hurry solved the
difficulty by telling him that on this spot alone, a long narrow shoal, which
extended for a few hundred yards in a north and south direction, rose within
six or eight feet of the surface of the lake, and that Hutter had driven piles
into it, and placed his habitation on them, for the purpose of security.
“The old fellow was
burnt out three times, atween the Indians and the hunters; and in one affray
with the red-skins he lost his only son, since which time he has taken to the
water for safety. No one can attack him, here, without coming in a boat, and
the plunder and scalps would scarce be worth the trouble of digging out canoes.
Then it’s by no means sartain which would whip, in such a skrimmage, for old
Tom is well supplied with arms and ammunition, and the castle, as you may see,
is a tight breast-work, ag’in light shot.
Deerslayer had some
theoretical knowledge of frontier warfare, though he had never yet been called
on to raise his hand, in anger, against a fellow-creature. He saw that Hurry
did not overrate the strength of this position, in a military point of view,
since it would not be easy to attack it, without exposing the assailants to the
fire of the besieged. A good deal of art had also been manifested in the
disposition of the timber, of which the building was constructed, and which
afforded a protection much greater than was usual to the ordinary log-cabins of
the frontier. The sides and ends were composed of the trunks of large pines,
cut about nine feet long, and placed upright, instead of being laid
horizontally, as was the practice of the country. These logs were squared on
three sides, and had large tenons on each end. Massive sills were secured on
the heads of the piles, with suitable grooves dug out of their upper surfaces,
which had been squared for the purpose, and the lower tenons of the upright
pieces were placed in these grooves, giving them a secure fastening below.
Plates had been laid on the upper ends of the upright logs, and were kept in
their places by a similar contrivance; the several corners of the structure
being well fastened by scarfing and pinning the sills and plates. The floors
were made of smaller logs, similarly squared, and the roof was composed of
light poles, firmly united, and well covered with bark. The effect of this
ingenious arrangement was to give its owner a house that could be aprroached
only by water, the sides of which were composed of logs, closely wedged
together, which were two feet thick in their thinnest parts, and which could be
separated only by a deliberate and laborious use of human hands, or by the slow
operation of time. The outer surface of the building was rude and uneven, the
logs being of unequal sizes; but the squared surfaces within, gave both the
sides and floor as uniform an appearance as was desired, either for use or
show. The chimney was not the least singular portion of the castle, as Hurry
made his companion observe, while he explained the process by which it had been
made. The material was a stiff clay, properly worked, which had been put
together in a mould of sticks, and suffered to harden, a foot or two at a time,
commencing at the bottom. When the entire chimney had thus been raised, and had
been properly bound in with outward props, a brisk fire was kindled, and kept
going until it was burned to something like a brick-red. This had not been an
easy operation, nor had it succeeded entirely; but by dint of filling the
cracks with fresh clay, a safe fire-place and chimney had been obtained in the
end. This part of the work stood on the log-floor, secured beneath by an extra
pile. There were a few other peculiarities about this dwelling, which will
better appear in the course of the narrative.
“Old Tom is full of
contrivances,” added Hurry, “and he set his heart on the success of his
chimney, which threatened, more than once, to give out altogether; but
parseverance will even overcome smoke; and now he has a comfortable cabin of
it, though it did promise, at one time, to be a chinky sort of a flue to carry
flames and fire.”
“You seem to know the
whole history of the castle, Hurry, chimney and sides,” said Deerslayer,
smiling; “is love so overcoming that it causes a man to study the story of his
sweetheart’s habitation?”
“Partly that, lad, and
partly eyesight,” returned the good-natured giant, laughing; “there was a large
gang of us, in at the lake, the summer the old fellow built, and we helped him
along with the job. I raised no small part of the weight of them uprights, with
my own shoulders, and the axes flew, I can inform you, Master Natty, while we
were bee-ing it among the trees ashore. The old devil is no way stingy about
food, and as we had often eat at his hearth, we thought we would just house him
comfortably, afore we went to Albany with our skins. Yes, many is the meal I’ve
swallowed in Tom Hutter’s cabins; and Hetty, though so weak in the way of wits,
has a wonderful particular way about a frying-pan or a gridiron!”
While the parties were
thus discoursing, the canoe had been gradually drawing nearer to the “castle,”
and was now so close, as to require but a single stroke of a paddle to reach
the landing. This was at a floored platform in front of the entrance, that
might have been some twenty feet square.
“Old Tom calls this
sort of a wharf, his door-yard,” observed Hurry, as he fastened the canoe,
after he and his companion had left it; “and the gallants from the forts have
named it the ‘castle court,’ though what a ‘court’ can have to do here, is more
than I can tell you, seeing that there is no law. ’T is as I supposed; not a
soul within, but the whole family is off on a v’y’ge of discovery!”
While Hurry was
bustling about the “door-yard,” examining the fishing-spears, rods, nets, and
other similar appliances of a frontier cabin, Deerslayer, whose manner was
altogether more rebuked and quiet, entered the building, with a curiosity that
was not usually exhibited by one so long trained in Indian habits. The interior
of the “castle” was as faultlessly neat, as its exterior was novel. The entire
space, some twenty feet by forty, was subdivided into several small
sleeping-rooms; the apartment into which he first entered, serving equally for
the ordinary uses of its inmates, and for a kitchen. The furniture was of the
strange mixture that it is not uncommon to find in the remotely situated
log-tenements of the interior. Most of it was rude, and, to the last degree,
rustic; but there was a clock, with a handsome case of dark wood, in a corner,
and two or three chairs, with a table and bureau, that had evidently come from
some dwelling of more than usual pretension. The clock was industriously
ticking, but its leaden-looking hands did no discredit to their dull aspect,
for they pointed to the hour of eleven, though the sun plainly showed it was
some time past the turn of the day. There was also a dark, massive chest. The
kitchen utensils were of the simplest kind, and far from numerous, but every
article was in its place, and showed the nicest care in its condition.
After Deerslayer had
cast a look about him in the outer room, he raised a wooden latch, and entered
a narrow passage that divided the inner end of the house into two equal parts.
Frontier usages being no way scrupulous, and his curiosity being strongly
excited, the young man now opened a door, and found himself in a bed-room. A
single glance sufficed to show that the apartment belonged to females. The bed
was of the feathers of wild-geese, and filled nearly to overflowing; but it lay
in a rude bunk, raised only a foot from the floor. On one side of it were
arranged, on pegs, various dresses, of a quality much superior to what one
would expect to meet in such a place, with ribands, and other similar articles,
to correspond. Pretty shoes, with handsome silver buckles, such as were then
worn by females in easy circumstances, were not wanting; and no less than six
fans, of gay colours, were placed half open, in a way to catch the eye by their
conceits and hues. Even the pillow, on this side of the bed, was covered with
finer linen than its companion, and it was ornamented with a small ruffle. A
cap, coquettishly decorated with ribands, hung above it, and a pair of long
gloves, such as were rarely used in those days by persons of the labouring
classes, were pinned ostentatiously to it, as if with an intention to exhibit
them there, if they could not be shown on the owner’s arms.
All this Deerslayer
saw, and noted with a degree of minuteness that would have done credit to the
habitual observation of his friends, the Delawares. Nor did he fail to perceive
the distinction that existed between the appearances on the different sides of
the bed, the head of which stood against the wall. On that opposite to the one
just described, every thing was homely, and uninviting, except through its
perfect neatness. The few garments that were hanging from the pegs, were of the
coarsest materials, and of the commonest forms, while nothing seemed made for
show. Of ribands there was not one; nor was there either cap or kerchief,
beyond those which Hutter’s daughters might be fairly entitled to wear.
It was now several
years since Deerslayer had been in a spot especially devoted to the uses of
females of his own colour and race. The sight brought back to his mind a rush
of childish recollections; and he lingered in the room with a tenderness of
feeling to which he had long been a stranger. He bethought him of his mother,
whose homely vestments he remembered to have seen hanging on pegs, like those
which he felt must belong to Hetty Hutter; and he bethought himself of a
sister, whose incipient and native taste for finery had exhibited itself
somewhat in the manner of that of Judith, though necessarily in a less degree.
These little resemblances opened a long-hidden vein of sensations; and as he
quitted the room, it was with a saddened mien. He looked no further, but
returned slowly and thoughtfully towards the “door-yard.”
“Old Tom has taken to a
new calling, and has been trying his hand at the traps,” cried Hurry, who had
been coolly examining the borderer’s implements; “if that is his humour, and
you’re disposed to remain in these parts, we can make an oncommon comfortable
season of it; for, while the old man and I out-knowledge the beaver, you can
fish, and knock down the deer, to keep body and soul together. We always give
the poorest hunters half a share, but one as actyve and sartain as yourself,
might expect a full one.”
“Thank’ee, Hurry; thank’ee,
with all my heart--but I do a little beavering for myself, as occasions offer. ’T
is true, the Delawares call me Deerslayer, but it’s not so much because I’m
pretty fatal with the venison, as because that while I kill so many bucks and
does, I’ve never yet taken the life of a fellow-creatur’! They say their
traditions do not tell of another who had shed so much blood of animals, that
had not shed the blood of man.”
“I hope they don’t
account you chicken-hearted, lad? A faint-hearted man is like a no-tailed
beaver.”
“I don’t believe,
Hurry, that they account me as out-of-the-way timorsome, even though they may
not account me as out-of-the-way brave. But I’m not quarrelsome; and that goes
a great way towards keeping blood off the hands, among the hunters and
red-skins; and then, Harry March, it keeps blood off the conscience, too.”
“Well, for my part, I
account game, a red-skin, and a Frenchman as pretty much the same thing; though
I’m as onquarrelsome a man, too, as there is in all the Colonies. I despise a
quarreller, as I do a cur-dog; but one has no need to be over-scrupulsome, when
it’s the right time to show the flint.”
“I look upon him as the
most of a man, who acts nearest the right, Hurry. But this is a glorious spot,
and my eyes never a-weary looking at it!”
“’T is your first acquaintance
with a lake; and these idees come over us all, at such times. Lakes have a
general character, as I say, being pretty much water and land, and points and
bays.”
As this definition by
no means met the feelings that were uppermost in the mind of the young hunter,
he made no immediate answer, but stood gazing at the dark hills, and the glassy
water, in silent enjoyment.
“Have the Governor’s,
or the King’s people given this lake a name?” he suddenly asked, as if struck
with a new idea. “If they ’ve not begun to blaze their trees, and set up their
compasses, and line off their maps, it’s likely they’ve not bethought them to
disturb natur’ with a name.”
“They’ve not got to
that, yet; and the last time I went in with skins, one of the King’s surveyors
was questioning me consarning all the region hereabouts. He had heard that
there was a lake in this quarter, and had got some general notions about it,
such as that there was water and hills; but how much of either, he know’d no
more than you know of the Mohawk tongue. I did n’t open the trap any wider than
was necessary, giving him but poor encouragement in the way of farms and
clearings. In short, I left on his mind some such opinion of this country as a
man gets of a spring of dirty water, with a path to it that is so muddy that
one mires afore he sets out. He told me they had n’t got the spot down, yet, on
their maps; though I conclude that is a mistake, for he showed me his
parchment, and there is a lake down on it where there is no lake, in fact, and
which is about fifty miles from the place where it ought to be, if they meant
it for this. I don’t think my account will encourage him to mark down another,
by way of improvement.”
Here Hurry laughed
heartily, such tricks being particularly grateful to a set of men who dreaded
the approaches of civilization as a curtailment of their own lawless empire.
The egregious errors that existed in the maps of the day, all of which were
made in Europe, was, moreover, a standing topic of ridicule among them; for, if
they had not science enough to make any better themselves, they had sufficient
local information to detect the gross blunders contained in those that existed.
Any one, who will take the trouble to compare these unanswerable evidences of
the topographical skill of our fathers a century since, with the more accurate
sketches of our own time, will at once perceive that the men of the woods had
sufficient justification for all their criticism on this branch of the skill of
the colonial governments, which did not at all hesitate to place a river, or a
lake, a degree or two out of the way, even though they lay within a day’s march
of the inhabited parts of the country.
“I’m glad it has no
name,” resumed Deerslayer, “or, at least, no pale-face name; for their christenings
always foretell waste and destruction. No doubt, howsever, the red-skins have
their modes of knowing it, and the hunters and trappers, too; they are likely
to call the place by something reasonable and resembling.”
“As for the tribes,
each has its own tongue, and its own way of calling things; and they treat this
part of the world just as they treat all others. Among ourselves, we’ve got to
calling the place the ‘Glimmerglass,’ seeing that its whole basin is so often
fringed with pines, cast upward from its face; as if it would throw back the
hills that hang over it.”
“There is an outlet, I
know, for all lakes have outlets, and the rock at which I am to meet
Chingachgook stands near an outlet. “Has that no Colony-name, yet?”
“In that particular they’ve
got the advantage of us, having one end, and that the biggest, in their own
keeping; they’ve given it a name which has found its way up to its source;
names nat’rally working up stream. No doubt, Deerslayer, you’ve seen the
Susquehannah, down in the Delaware country?”
“That have I, and
hunted along its banks a hundred times.”
“That and this are the
same, in fact, and, I suppose, the same in sound. I am glad they’ve been
compelled to keep the red-men’s name, for it would be too hard to rob them of
both land and name!”
Deerslayer made no
answer; but he stood leaning on his rifle, gazing at the view which so much
delighted him. The reader is not to suppose, however, that it was the
picturesque alone which so strongly attracted his attention. The spot was very
lovely, of a truth, and it was then seen in one of its most favourable moments,
the surface of the lake being as smooth as glass, and as limpid as pure air,
throwing back the mountains, clothed in dark pines, along the whole of its
eastern boundary, the points thrusting forward their trees even to nearly
horizontal lines, while the bays were seen glittering through an occasional
arch beneath, left by a vault fretted with branches and leaves. It was the air
of deep repose--the solitudes, that spoke of scenes and forests untouched by
the hands of man--the reign of nature, in a word, that gave so much pure
delight to one of his habits and turn of mind. Still, he felt, though it was
unconsciously, like a poet also. If he found a pleasure in studying this large,
and, to him, unusual opening into the mysteries and forms of the woods, as one
is gratified in getting broader views of any subject that has long occupied his
thoughts, he was not insensible to the innate loveliness of such a landscape
neither, but felt a portion of that soothing of the spirit which is a common
attendant of a scene so thoroughly pervaded by the holy calm of nature.
“Come, shall we go and
kill us venison?
And yet it irks me, the
poor dappled fools,--
Being native burghers
of this desert city,--
Should, in their own
confines, with forked heads
Have their round
haunches gored.”
Shakspeare. Hurry Harry thought
more of the beauties of Judith Hutter, than of those of the Glimmerglass, and
its accompanying scenery. As soon as he had taken a sufficiently intimate
survey of Floating Tom’s implements, therefore, he summoned his companion to
the canoe, that they might go down the lake in quest of the family. Previously
to embarking, however, Hurry carefully examined the whole of the northern end
of the water, with an indifferent ship’s glass, that formed a part of Hutter’s
effects. In this scrutiny, no part of the shore was overlooked; the bays and
points, in particular, being subjected to a closer inquiry than the rest of the
wooded boundary.
“’T is as I thought,”
said Hurry, laying aside the glass, “the old fellow is drifting about the south
end, this fine weather, and has left the castle to defend itself. Well, now we
know that he is not up this-a-way; ’t will be but a small matter to paddle
down, and hunt him up in his hiding-place.”
“Does Master Hutter
think it necessary to burrow on this lake?” inquired Deerslayer, as he followed
his companion into the canoe; “to my eye, it is such a solitude as one might
open his whole soul in, and fear no one to disarrange his thoughts, or his
worship.”
“You forget your
friends, the Mingos, and all the French savages. Is there a spot on ’arth,
Deerslayer, to which them disquiet rogues don’t go? Where is the lake, or even
the deer-lick, that the blackguards don’t find out; and, having found out, don’t,
sooner or late, discolour its water with blood?”
“I hear no good
character of them, sartainly, friend Hurry, though I’ve never been called on,
as yet, to meet them, or any other mortal, on the war-path. I dare to say that
such a lovely spot as this, would not be likely to be overlooked by such
plunderers; for, though I’ve not been in the way of quarrelling with them
tribes myself, the Delawares give me such an account of ’em, that I’ve pretty
much set’em down, in my own mind, as thorough miscreants.”
“You may do that with a
safe conscience, or, for that matter, any other savage you may happen to meet.”
Here Deerslayer
protested, and, as they went paddling down the lake, a hot discussion was
maintained concerning the respective merits of the pale-faces and the
red-skins. Hurry had all the prejudices and antipathies of a white hunter, who
generally regards the Indian as a sort of natural competitor, and, not
unfrequently, as a natural enemy. As a matter of course, he was loud,
clamorous, dogmatical, and not very argumentative. Deerslayer, on the other
hand, manifested a very different temper; proving, by the moderation of his
language, the fairness of his views; and the simplicity of his distinctions,
that he possessed every disposition to hear reason, a strong, innate desire to
do justice, and an ingenuousness that was singularly indisposed to have
recourse to sophisms to maintain an argument, or to defend a prejudice. Still,
he was not altogether free from the influence of the latter feeling. This
tyrant of the human mind, which rushes on its prey through a thousand avenues,
almost as soon as men begin to think and feel, and which seldom relinquishes
his iron sway until they cease to do either, had made some impression on even
the just propensities of this individual, who probably offered, in these
particulars, a fair specimen of what absence from bad example, the want of
temptation to go wrong, and native good feeling, can render youth.
“You will allow,
Deerslayer, that a Mingo is more than half devil,” cried Hurry, following up
the discussion with an animation that touched closely on ferocity, “though you
want to over-persuade me that the Delaware tribe is pretty much made up of
angels. Now, I gainsay that proposal, consarning white men, even. All white men
are not faultless, and therefore all Indians can’t be faultless. And so your
argument is out at the elbow, in the start. But, this is what I call reason.
Here’s three colours on ’arth; white, black, and red. White is the highest
colour, and therefore the best man; black comes next, and is put to live in the
neighbourhood of the white man, as tolerable, and fit to be made use of; and
red comes last, which shows that those that made ’em never expected an Indian
to be accounted as more than half human.”
“God made all three
alike, Hurry.”
“Alike! Do you call a
nigger like a white man, or me like an Indian?”
“You go off at
half-cock, and don’t hear me out. God made us all, white, black, and red; and,
no doubt, had his own wise intentions in colouring us differently. Still, he
made us, in the main, much the same in feelin’s; though, I’ll not deny that he
gave each race its gifts. A white man’s gifts are christianized, while a
red-skin’s are more for the wilderness. Thus, it would be a great offence for a
white man to scalp the dead; whereas, it’s a signal vartue in an Indian. Then
ag’in, a white man cannot amboosh women and children in war, while a red-skin
may. ’T is cruel work, I’ll allow; but for them it’s lawful work; while for us,
it would be grievous work.”
“That depends on your
inimy. As for scalping, or even skinning a savage, I look upon them pretty much
the same as cutting off the ears of wolves, for the bounty, or stripping a bear
of its hide. And then you’re out significantly, as to taking the poll of a
red-skin in hand, seeing that the very Colony has offered a bounty for the job;
all the same as it pays for wolves’ ears, and crows’ heads.”
“Ay, and a bad business
it is, Hurry. Even the Indians, themselves, cry shame on it, seeing it’s ag’in
a white man’s gifts. I do not pretend that all that white men do, is properly
christianized, and according to the lights given them; for then they would be
what they ought to be; which we know they are not; but I will maintain that
tradition, and use, and colour, and laws, make such a difference in races as to
amount to gifts. I do not deny that there are tribes among the Indians that are
nat’rally pervarse and wicked, as there are nations among the whites. Now, I
account the Mingos as belonging to the first, and the Frenchers, in the
Canadas, to the last. In a state of lawful warfare, such as we have lately got
into, it is a duty to keep down all compassionate feelin’s, so far as life
goes, ag’in either; but when it comes to scalps, it’s a very different matter.”
“Just hearken to
reason, if you please, Deerslayer, and tell me if the Colony can make an
onlawful law? Is n’t an onlawful law more ag’in natur’ than scalpin’ a savage?
A law can no more be onlawful, than truth can be a lie.”
“That sounds
reasonable; but it has a most onreasonable bearing, Hurry. Laws don’t all come
from the same quarter. God has given us his’n, and some come from the Colony,
and others come from the king and parliament. When the Colony’s laws, or even
the King’s laws, run ag’in the laws of God, they get to be onlawful, and ought
not to be obeyed. I hold to a white man’s respecting white laws, so long as
they do not cross the track of a law comin’ from a higher authority; and for a
red-man to obey his own redskin usages, under the same privilege. But, ’t is
useless talking, as each man will think for himself, and have his say agreeable
to his thoughts. Let us keep a good lookout for your friend, Floating Tom, lest
we pass him, as he lies hidden under this bushy shore.”
Deerslayer had not
named the borders of the lake amiss. Along their whole length, the smaller
trees overhung the water, with their branches often dipping in the transparent
element. The banks were steep, even from the narrow strand; and, as vegetation
invariably struggles towards the light, the effect was precisely that at which
the lover of the picturesque would have aimed, had the ordering of this
glorious setting of forest been submitted to his control. The points and bays,
too, were sufficiently numerous to render the outline broken and diversified.
As the canoe kept close along the western side of the lake, with a view, as
Hurry had explained to his companion, of reconnoitring for enemies, before he
trusted himself too openly in sight, the expectations of the two adventurers
were kept constantly on the stretch, as neither could foretell what the next
turning of a point might reveal. Their progress was swift, the gigantic
strength of Hurry enabling him to play with the light bark as if it had been a
feather, while the skill of his companion almost equalized their usefulness,
notwithstanding the disparity in natural means.
Each time the canoe
passed a point, Hurry turned a look behind him, expecting to see the “ark”
anchored, or beached in the bay. He was fated to be disappointed, however; and
they had got within a mile of the southern end of the lake, or a distance of
quite two leagues from the “castle,” which was now hidden from view by half a
dozen intervening projections of the land, when he suddenly ceased paddling, a
if uncertain in what direction next to steer.
“It is possible that
the old chap has dropped into the river,” said Hurry, after looking carefully
along the whole of the eastern shore, which was about a mile distant, and open
to his scrutiny for more than half its length; “for he has taken to trapping
considerable, of late, and, barring flood-wood, he might drop down it, a mile
or so; though he would have a most scratching time in getting back again!”
“Where is this outlet?”
asked Deerslayer; “I see no opening in the banks, or the trees, that looks as
if it would let a river like the Susquehannah run through it.”
“Ay, Deerslayer, rivers
are like human mortals; having small beginnings, and ending with broad
shoulders, and wide mouths. You don’t see the outlet, because it passes atween
high, steep banks; and the pines, and hemlocks, and basswoods hang over it, as
a roof hangs over a house. If old Tom is not in the ‘Rat’s Cove,’ he must have
burrowed in the river; we’ll look for him first in the Cove, and then we’ll
cross to the outlet.”
As they proceeded,
Hurry explained that there was a shallow bay, formed by a long, low point, that
had gotten the name of the “Rat’s Cove,” from the circumstance of its being a
favourite haunt of the muskrat; and which offered so complete a cover for the “ark,”
that its owner was fond of lying in it, whenever he found it convenient.
“As a man never knows
who may be his visiters, in this part of the country,” continued Hurry, “it’s a
great advantage to get a good look at ’em, before they come too near. Now it’s
war, such caution is more than commonly useful, since a Canadian, or a Mingo,
might get into his hut afore he invited ’em. But Hutter is a first-rate
look-outer, and can pretty much scent danger, as a hound scents the deer.”
“I should think the
castle so open, that it would be sartain to draw inimies, if any happened to
find the lake; a thing onlikely enough, I will allow, as it’s off the trail of
the forts and settlements.”
“Why, Deerslayer, I’ve
got to believe that a man meets with inimies easier than he meets with fri’nds.
It’s skearful to think for how many causes one gets to be your inimy, and for
how few your fri’nd. Some take up the hatchet because you don’t think just as
they think; other some because you run ahead of ’em in the same idees; and I
once know’d a vagabond that quarrelled with a fri’nd because he didn’t think
him handsome. Now, you’re no monument, in the way of beauty, yourself,
Deerslayer, and yet you wouldn’t be so onreasonable as to become my inimy for
just saying so.”
“I’m as the Lord made
me; and I wish to be accounted no better, nor any worse. Good looks I may not
have; that is to say, to a degree that the light-minded and vain crave; but I
hope I’m not altogether without some ricommend in the way of good conduct.
There’s few nobler looking men to be seen than yourself, Hurry; and I know that
I am not to expect any to turn their eyes on me, when such a one as you can be
gazed on; but I do not know that a hunter is less expart with the rifle, or
less to be relied on for food, because he doesn’t wish to stop at every shining
spring he may meet, to study his own countenance in the water.”
Here Hurry burst into a
fit of loud laughter; for, while he was too reckless to care much about his own
manifest physical superiority, he was well aware of it, and, like most men who
derive an advantage from the accidents of birth, or nature, he was apt to think
complacently on the subject, whenever it happened to cross his mind.
“No, no, Deerslayer,
you’re no beauty, as you will own yourself, if you’ll look over the side of the
canoe,” he cried; “Jude will say that to your face, if you start her, for a
parter tongue isn’t to be found in any gal’s head, in or out of the
settlements, if you provoke her to use it. My advice to you, is never to
aggravate Judith; though you may tell any thing to Hetty, and she’ll take it as
meek as a lamb. No, Jude will be just as like as not to tell you her opinion
consarning your looks.”
“And if she does,
Hurry, she will tell me no more than you have said already--”
“You’re not thick’ning
up about a small remark, I hope, Deerslayer, when no harm is meant. You are not
a beauty, as you must know, and why shouldn’t fri’nds tell each other these
little trifles? If you was handsome, or ever like to be, I’d be one of the
first to tell you of it; and that ought to content you. Now, if Jude was to
tell me that I’m as ugly as a sinner, I’d take it as a sort of obligation, and
try not to believe her.”
“It’s easy for them
that natur’ has favoured, to jest about such matters, Hurry, though it is
sometimes hard for others. I’ll not deny but I’ve had my cravings towards good
looks; yes, I have; but then I’ve always been able to get them down by
considering how many I’ve known with fair outsides, who have had nothing to
boast of inwardly. I’ll not deny, Hurry, that I often wish I’d been created
more comely to the eye, and more like such a one as yourself, in them
particulars; but then I get the feelin’ under by remembering how much better
off I am, in a great many respects, than some fellow-mortals. I might have been
born lame, and onfit, even for a squirrel hunt; or, blind, which would have
made me a burthen on myself, as well as on my fri’nds; or, without hearing,
which would have totally onqualified me for ever campaigning, or scouting,
which I look forward to, as part of a man’s duty in troublesome times. Yes,
yes; it’s not pleasant, I will allow, to see them that’s more comely, and more
sought after, and honoured than yourself; but it may all be borne, if a man
looks the evil in the face, and don’t mistake his gifts and his obligations.”
Hurry, in the main, was
a good-hearted, as well as goodnatured fellow; and the self-abasement of his companion
completely got the better of the passing feeling of personal vanity. He
regretted the allusion he had made to the other’s appearance, and endeavoured
to express as much, though it was done in the uncouth manner that belonged to
the habits and opinions of the frontier.
“I meant no harm,
Deerslayer,” he answered, in a deprecating manner, “and hope you’ll forget what
I’ve said. If you’re not downright handsome, you’ve a sartain look that says,
plainer than any words, that all’s right within. Then you set no valie by
looks, and will the sooner forgive any little slight to your appearance. I will
not say that Jude will greatly admire you, for that might raise hopes that
would only breed disapp’intment; but there’s Hetty, now, would be just as
likely to find satisfaction in looking at you, as in looking at any other man.
Then you’re altogether too grave and considerate-like, to care much about
Judith; for, though the gal is oncommon, she is so general in her admiration,
that a man need not be exalted, because she happens to smile. I sometimes think
the hussy loves herself better than she does any thing else breathin’!”
“If she did, Hurry, she’d
do no more, I’m afeard, than most queens on their thrones, and ladies in the
towns,” answered Deerslayer, smiling, and turning back towards his companion
with every trace of feeling banished from his honest-looking and frank
countenance. “I never yet know’d even a Delaware of whom you might not say that
much. But here is the end of the long p’int, you mentioned, and the ‘Rat’s Cove’
can’t be far off.”
This point, instead of
thrusting itself forward, like all the others, ran in a line with the main
shore of the lake, which here swept within it, in a deep and retired bay,
circling round south again, at the distance of a quarter of a mile, and crossed
the valley, forming the southern termination of the water. In this bay Hurry
felt almost certain of finding the ark, since, anchored behind the trees that
covered the narrow strip of the point, it might have lain concealed from prying
eyes an entire summer. So complete, indeed, was the cover, in this spot, that a
boat hauled close to the beach, within the point, and near the bottom of the
bay, could by possibility be seen from only one direction; and that was from a
densely-wooded shore, within the sweep of the water, where strangers would be
little apt to go.
“We shall soon see the
ark,” said Hurry, as the canoe glided round the extremity of the point, where
the water was so deep as actually to appear black; “he loves to burrow up among
the rushes, and we shall be in his nest in five minutes, although the old
fellow may be off among the traps, himself.”
March proved a false
prophet. The canoe completely doubled the point, so as to enable the two
travellers to command a view of the whole cove, or bay, for it was more
properly the last, and no object, but those that nature had placed there,
became visible. The placid water swept round in a graceful curve, the rushes
bent gently towards its surface, and the trees overhung it as usual; but all
lay in the soothing and sublime solitude of a wilderness. The scene was such as
a poet, or an artist would have delighted in, but it had no charm for Hurry
Harry, who was burning with impatience to get a sight of his light-minded
beauty.
The motion of the canoe
had been attended with little or no noise, the frontier-men, habitually,
getting accustomed to caution, in most of their movements, and it now lay on
the glassy water appearing to float in air, partaking of the breathing
stillness that seemed to pervade the entire scene. At this instant a dry stick
was heard cracking on the narrow strip of land, that concealed the bay from the
open lake. Both the adventurers started, and each extended a hand towards his
rifle, the weapon never being out of reach of the arm.
“’T was too heavy for
any light creatur’,” whispered Hurry, “and it sounded like the tread of a man!”
“Not so--not so,”
returned Deerslayer; “’t was, as you say, too heavy for one, but it was too
light for the other. Put your paddle in the water, and send the canoe in, to
that log; I’ll land, and cut off the creatur’s retreat up the p’int, be it a
Mingo, or be it only a muskrat.”
As Hurry complied,
Deerslayer was soon on the shore, advancing into the thicket with a moccasin’d
foot, and a caution that prevented the least noise. In a minute he was in the
centre of the narrow strip of land, and moving slowly down towards its end, the
bushes rendering extreme watchfulness necessary. Just as he reached the centre
of the thicket, the dried twigs cracked again, and the noise was repeated, at
short intervals, as if some creature having life, walked slowly towards the
point. Hurry heard these sounds also, and, pushing the canoe off into the bay,
he seized his rifle to watch the result. A breathless minute succeeded, after
which a noble buck walked out of the thicket, proceeded with a stately step to
the sandy extremity of the point, and began to slake his thirst from the water
of the lake. Hurry hesitated an instant; then raising his rifle hastily to his
shoulder, he took sight and fired. The effect of this sudden interruption of
the solemn stillness of such a scene, was not its least striking peculiarity.
The report of the weapon had the usual sharp, short sound of the rifle; but,
when a few moments of silence had succeeded the sudden crack, during which the
noise was floating in air across the water, it reached the rocks of the
opposite mountain, where the vibrations accumulated, and were rolled from
cavity to cavity for miles along the hills, seeming to awaken the sleeping
thunders of the woods. The buck merely shook his head at the report of the
rifle, and the whistling of the bullet, for never before had he come in contact
with man; but the echoes of the hills awakened his distrust, and, leaping
forward, with his four legs drawn under his body, he fell at once into deep
water, and began to swim towards the foot of the lake. Hurry shouted, and
dashed forward in chase, and for one or two minutes the water foamed around the
pursuer and the pursued. The former was dashing past the point, when Deerslayer
appeared on the sand, and signed to him to return.
“’T was inconsiderate
to pull a trigger afore we had reconn’itred the shore, and made sartain that no
inimies harboured near it,” said the latter, as his companion slowly and
reluctantly complied. “This much I have l’arned from the Delawares, in the way
of schooling and traditions, even though I’ve never yet been on a war-path.
And, moreover, venison can hardly be called in season, now, and we do not want
for food. They call me Deerslayer, I’ll own; and perhaps I desarve the name, in
the way of understanding the creatur’s habits, as well as for sartainty in the
aim; but they can’t accuse me of killing an animal when there is no occasion
for the meat, or the skin. I may be a slayer, it’s true, but I’m no
slaughterer.”
“’T was an awful
mistake to miss that buck!” exclaimed Hurry, doffing his cap and running his
fingers through his handsome, but matted curls, as if he would loosen his
tangled ideas by the process; “I’ve not done so onhandy a thing since I was
fifteen.”
“Never lament it; the
creatur’s death could have done neither of us any good, and might have done us
harm. Them echoes are more awful, in my ears, than your mistake, Hurry; for
they sound like the voice of natur’ calling out ag’in a wasteful and onthinking
action.”
“You’ll hear plenty of
such calls, if you tarry long in this quarter of the world, lad,” returned the
other laughing. “The echoes repeat pretty much all that is said or done on the
Glimmerglass, in this calm summer weather. If a paddle falls, you hear of it,
sometimes, ag’in and ag’in; as if the hills were mocking your clumsiness; and a
laugh, or a whistle, comes out of them pines, when they’re in the humour to
speak, in a way to make you believe they can r’ally convarse.”
“So much the more
reason for being prudent and silent. I do not think the inimy can have found
their way into these hills yet, for I don’t know what they are to gain by it;
but all the Delawares tell me, that as courage is a warrior’s first vartue, so
is prudence his second. One such call, from the mountains, is enough to let a
whole tribe into the secret of our arrival.”
“If it does no other
good, it will warn old Tom to put the pot over, and let him know visiters are
at hand. Come, lad; get into the canoe, and we will hunt the ark up, while
there is yet day.”
Deerslayer complied,
and the canoe left the spot. Its head was turned diagonally across the lake,
pointing towards the south-eastern curvature of the sheet. In that direction,
the distance to the shore, or to the termination of the lake, on the course the
two were now steering, was not quite a mile, and their progress being always
swift, it was fast lessening, under the skilful, but easy sweeps of the
paddles. When about half-way across, a slight noise drew the eyes of the men
towards the nearest land, and they saw that the buck was just emerging from the
lake, and wading towards the beach. In a minute the noble animal shook the
water from his flanks, gazed upward at the covering of trees, and, bounding
against the bank, plunged into the forest.
“That creatur’ goes off
with gratitude in his heart,” said Deerslayer, “for natur’ tells him he has
escaped a great danger. You ought to have some of the same feelins’, Hurry, to
think your eye wasn’t truer--that your hand was onsteady, when no good could
come of a shot that was intended onmeaningly, rather than in reason.”
“I deny the eye and the
hand,” cried March, with some heat. “You’ve got a little character, down among
the Delawares, there, for quickness and sartainty, at a deer; but I should like
to see you behind one of them pines, and a full-painted Mingo behind another,
each with a cock’d rifle, and a-striving for the chance! Them’s the situations,
Nathaniel, to try the sight and the hand, for they begin with trying the
narves. I never look upon killing a creatur’ as an explite; but killing a
savage is. The time will come to try your hand, now we’ve got to blows ag’in,
and we shall soon know what a ven’son repitation can do in the field. I deny
that either hand or eye was onsteady; it was all a miscalculation of the buck,
which stood still when he ought to have kept in motion, and so I shot ahead of
him.”
“Have it your own way,
Hurry; all I contend for is, that it’s lucky. I dare say I shall not pull upon
a human mortal as steadily, or with as light a heart, as I pull upon a deer.”
“Who’s talking of
mortals, or of human beings at all, Deerslayer? I put the matter to you on the
supposition of an Indian. I dare say any man would have his feelin’s when it
got to be life, or death, ag’in another human mortal; but there would be no
such scruples in regard to an Indian; nothing but the chance of his hitting
you, or the chance of your hitting him.”
“I look upon the
red-men to be quite as human as we are ourselves, Hurry. They have their gifts,
and their religion, it’s true; but that makes no difference in the end, when
each will be judged according to his deeds, and not according to his skin.”
“That’s downright
missionary, and will find little favour up in this part of the country, where
the Moravians don’t congregate. Now, skin makes the man. This is reason; else
how are people to judge of each other. The skin is put on, over all, in order
that when a creatur’, or a mortal, is fairly seen, you may know at once what to
make of him. You know a bear from a hog, by his skin, and a grey squirrel from
a black.”
“True, Hurry,” said the
other, looking back and smiling, “nevertheless, they are both squirrels.”
“Who denies it? But you’ll
not say that a red-man and a white man are both Indians?”
“No; but I do say they
are both men. Men of different races and colours, and having different gifts
and traditions, but, in the main, with the same natur’. Both have souls; and both
will be held accountable for their deeds in this life.”
Hurry was one of those
theorists who believed in the inferiority of all of the human race, who were
not white. His notions on the subject were not very clear, nor were his
definitions at all well settled; but his opinions were none the less
dogmatical, or fierce. His conscience accused him of sundry lawless acts
against the Indians, and he had found it an exceedingly easy mode of quieting
it, by putting the whole family of red-men, incontinently, without the category
of human rights. Nothing angered him sooner, than to deny his proposition, more
especially if the denial were accompanied by a show of plausible argument; and
he did not listen to his companion’s remarks with much composure, of either
manner or feeling.
“You’re a boy,
Deerslayer, misled and misconsaited by Delaware arts, and missionary ignorance,”
he exclaimed, with his usual indifference to the forms of speech, when excited.
“You may account yourself as a red-skin’s brother, but I hold ’em all to be
animals; with nothing human about ’em, but cunning. That they have, I’ll allow;
but so has a fox, or even a bear. I’m older than you, and have lived longer in
the woods--or, for that matter, have lived always there, and am not to be told
what an Indian is, or what he is not. If you wish to be considered a savage,
you’ve only to say so, and I’ll name you as such to Judith, and the old man,
and then we’ll see how you’ll like your welcome.”
Here Hurry’s
imagination did his temper some service, since, by conjuring up the reception
his semi-aquatic acquaintance would be likely to bestow on one thus introduced,
he burst into a hearty fit of laughter. Deerslayer too well knew the
uselessness of attempting to convince such a being of any thing against his
prejudices, to feel a desire to attempt the task; and he was not sorry that the
approach of the canoe to the south-eastern curve of the lake, gave a new
direction to his ideas. They were now, indeed, quite near the place that March
had pointed out for the position of the outlet, and both began to look for it
with a curiosity that was increased by the expectation of finding the ark.
It may strike the
reader as a little singular, that the place where a stream of any size passed
through banks that had an elevation of some twenty feet, should be a matter of
doubt with men who could not now have been more than two hundred yards distant
from the precise spot. It will be recollected, however, that the trees and
bushes here, as elsewhere, fairly overhung the water, making such a fringe to
the lake, as to conceal any little variations from its general outline.
“I’ve not been down at
this end of the lake these two summers,” said Hurry, standing up in the canoe,
the better to look about him. “Ay, there’s the rock, showing its chin above the
water, and I know that the river begins in its neighbourhood.”
The men now plied the
paddles again, and they were presently within a few yards of the rock, floating
towards it, though their efforts were suspended. This rock was not large, being
merely some five or six feet high, only half of which elevation rose above the
lake. The incessant washing of the water, for centuries, had so rounded its
summit, that it resembled a large bee-hive, in shape, its form being more than usually
regular and even. Hurry remarked, as they floated slowly past, that this rock
was well known to all the Indians in that part of the country, and that they
were in the practice of using it as a mark, to designate the place of meeting,
when separated by their hunts and marches.
“And here is the river,
Deerslayer,” he continued, “though so shut in by trees and bushes, as to look
more like an and-bush, than the outlet of such a sheet as the Glimmerglass.”
Hurry had not badly
described the place, which did truly seem to be a stream lying in ambush. The
high banks might have been a hundred feet asunder; but, on the western side, a
small bit of low land extended so far forward, as to diminish the breadth of
the stream to half that width. As the bushes hung in the water beneath, and
pines that had the stature of church-steeples, rose in tall columns above, all
inclining towards the light, until their branches intermingled, the eye, at a
little distance, could not easily detect any opening in the shore, to mark the
egress of the water. In the forest above, no traces of this outlet were to be
seen from the lake, the whole presenting the same connected, and seemingly
interminable, carpet of leaves. As the canoe slowly advanced, sucked in by the
current, it entered beneath an arch of trees, through which the light from the
heavens struggled by casual openings, faintly relieving the gloom beneath.
“This is a nat’ral
and-bush,” half whispered Hurry, as if he felt that the place was devoted to
secresy and watchfulness; “depend on it, old Tom has burrowed with the ark
somewhere in this quarter. We will drop down with the current, a short
distance, and ferret him out.”
“This seems no place
for a vessel of any size,” returned the other; “it appears to me, that we shall
have hardly room enough for the canoe.”
Hurry laughed at this
suggestion, and, as it soon appeared, with reason; for, the fringe of bushes
immediately on the shore of the lake was no sooner passed, than the adventurers
found themselves in a narrow stream, of a sufficient depth of limpid water,
with a strong current, and a canopy of leaves, upheld by arches composed of the
limbs of hoary trees. Bushes lined the shores, as usual, but they left
sufficient space between them to admit the passage of any thing that did not
exceed twenty feet in width, and to allow of a perspective ahead of eight or
ten times that distance.
Neither of our two
adventurers used his paddle, except to keep the light bark in the centre of the
current, but both watched each turning of the stream, of which there were two
or three within the first hundred yards, with jealous vigilance. Turn after
turn, however, was passed, and the canoe had dropped down with the current some
little distance, when Hurry caught a bush, and arrested its movement, so
suddenly and silently, as to denote some unusual motive for the act. Deerslayer
laid his hand on the stock of his rifle, as soon as he noted this proceeding;
but it was quite as much with a hunter’s habit, as from any feeling of alarm.
“There the old fellow
is!” whispered Hurry, pointing with a finger, and laughing heartily, though he
carefully avoided making a noise, “ratting it away, just as I supposed; up to
his knees in the mud and water, looking to the traps and the bait. But, for the
life of me, I can see nothing of the ark; though I’ll bet every skin I take
this season, Jude isn’t trusting her pretty little feet in the neighbourhood of
that black mud. The gal’s more likely to be braiding her hair by the side of
some spring, where she can see her own good looks, and collect scornful
feelings ag’in us men.”
“You over-judge young
women--yes you do, Hurry-- who as often bethink them of their failings as they
do of their perfections. I dare to say, this Judith, now, is no such admirer of
herself, and no such scorner of our sex, as you seem to think; and that she is
quite as likely to be sarving her father in the house, wherever that may be, as
he is to be sarving her among the traps.”
“It’s a pleasure to
hear truth from a man’s tongue, if it be only once in a girl’s life,” cried a
pleasant, rich, and yet soft female voice, so near the canoe, as to make both
the listeners start. “As for you, Master Hurry, fair words are so apt to choak
you, that I no longer expect to hear them from your mouth; the last you uttered
sticking in your throat, and coming near to death. But I’m glad to see you keep
better society than formerly, and that they who know how to esteem and treat
women, are not ashamed to journey in your company.”
As this was said, a
singularly handsome and youthful female face was thrust through an opening in
the leaves, within reach of Deerslayer’s paddle. Its owner smiled graciously on
the young man; and the frown that she cast on Hurry, though simulated and
pettish, had the effect to render her beauty more striking, by exhibiting the
play of an expressive, but capricious countenance; one that seemed to change
from the soft to the severe, the mirthful to the reproving, with facility and
indifference.
A second look explained
the nature of the surprise. Unwittingly, the men had dropped alongside of the
ark, which had been purposely concealed in bushes, cut and arranged for the
purpose; and Judith Hutter had merely pushed aside the leaves that lay before a
window, in order to show her face, and speak to them.
“And that timid fawn
starts not with fear,
When I steal to her
secret bower;
And that young May
violet to me is dear,
And I visit the silent
streamlet near,
To look on the lovely
flower.”
Bryant. The ark, as the
floating habitation of the Hutters was generally called, was a very simple
contrivance. A large flat, or scow, composed the buoyant part of the vessel;
and, in its centre, occupying the whole of its breadth, and about two-thirds of
its length, stood a low fabric, resembling the castle in construction, though
made of materials so light as barely to be bullet-proof. As the sides of the
scow were a little higher than usual, and the interior of the cabin had no more
elevation than was necessary for comfort, this unusual addition had neither a
very clumsy, nor a very obtrusive appearance. It was, in short, little more
than a modern canal-boat, though more rudely constructed, of greater breadth
than common, and bearing about it the signs of the wilderness, in its bark-covered
posts and roof. The scow, however, had been put together with some skill, being
comparatively light, for its strength, and sufficiently manageable. The cabin
was divided into two apartments, one of which served for a parlour, and the
sleeping-room of the father, and the other was appropriated to the uses of the
daughters. A very simple arrangement sufficed for the kitchen, which was in one
end of the scow, and removed from the cabin, standing in the open air; the ark
being altogether a summer habitation.
The “and-bush,” as
Hurry in his ignorance of English termed it, is quite as easily explained. In
many parts of the lake and river, where the banks were steep and high, the
smaller trees, and larger bushes, as has been already mentioned, fairly
overhung the stream, their branches not unfrequently dipping into the water. In
some instances they grew out in nearly horizontal lines, for thirty or forty
feet. The water being uniformly deepest near the shores, where the banks were
highest and the nearest to a perpendicular, Hutter had found no difficulty in
letting the ark drop under one of these covers, where it had been anchored with
a view to conceal its position; security requiring some such precautions, in
his view of the case. Once beneath the trees and bushes, a few stones fastened
to the ends of the branches had caused them to bend sufficiently to dip into
the river; and a few severed bushes, properly disposed, did the rest. The
reader has seen that this cover was so complete, as to deceive two men accustomed
to the woods, and who were actually in search of those it concealed; a
circumstance that will be easily understood by those who are familiar with the
matted and wild luxuriance of a virgin American forest, more especially in a
rich soil.
The discovery of the
ark produced very different effects on our two adventurers. As soon as the
canoe could be got round to the proper opening, Hurry leaped on board, and in a
minute was closely engaged in a gay, and a sort of recriminating discourse with
Judith, apparently forgetful of the existence of all the rest of the world. Not
so with Deerslayer. He entered the ark with a slow, cautious step, examining
every arrangement of the cover with curious and scrutinizing eyes. It is true,
he cast one admiring glance at Judith, which was extorted by her brilliant and
singular beauty; but even this could detain him but a single instant from the
indulgence of his interest in Hutter’s contrivances. Step by step did he look
into the construction of the singular abode, investigate its fastenings and
strength, ascertain its means of defence, and make every inquiry that would be
likely to occur to one whose thoughts dwelt principally on such expedients. Nor
was the cover neglected. Of this he examined the whole minutely, his commendation
escaping him more than once, in audible comments. Frontier usages admitting of
this familiarity, he passed through the rooms as he had previously done at the
castle; and, opening a door, issued into the end of the scow opposite to that
where he had left Hurry and Judith. Here he found the other sister, employed on
some coarse needlework, seated beneath the leafy canopy of the cover.
As Deerslayer’s
examination was by this time ended, he dropped the butt of his rifle, and,
leaning on the barrel, with both hands, he turned towards the girl with an
interest the singular beauty of her sister had not awakened. He had gathered
from Hurry’s remarks that Hetty was considered to have less intellect than
ordinarily falls to the share of human beings; and his education among Indians
had taught him to treat those who were thus afflicted by Providence, with more
than common tenderness. Nor was there any thing in Hetty Hutter’s appearance,
as so often happens, to weaken the interest her situation excited. An idiot she
could not properly be termed, her mind being just enough enfeebled to lose most
of those traits that are connected with the more artful qualities, and to
retain its ingenuousness and love of truth. It had often been remarked of this
girl, by the few who had seen her, and who possessed sufficient knowledge to
discriminate, that her perception of the right seemed almost intuitive, while
her aversion to the wrong formed so distinctive a feature of her mind, as to
surround her with an atmosphere of pure morality; peculiarities that are not
unfrequent with persons who are termed feeble-minded; as if God had forbidden
the evil spirits to invade a precinct so defenceless, with the benign purpose
of extending a direct protection to those who had been left without the usual
aids of humanity. Her person, too, was agreeable, having a strong resemblance
to that of her sister, of which it was a subdued and humble copy. If it had
none of the brilliancy of Judith’s, the calm, quiet, almost holy expression of
her meek countenance, seldom failed to win on the observer; and few noted it
long, that did not begin to feel a deep and lasting interest in the girl. She
had no colour, in common, nor was her simple mind apt to present images that
caused her cheek to brighten; though she retained a modesty so innate, that it
almost raised her to the unsuspecting purity of a being superior to human
infirmities. Guileless, innocent, and without distrust, equally by nature and
from her mode of life, Providence had, nevertheless, shielded her from harm by
a halo of moral light, as it is said “to temper the wind to the shorn lamb.”
“You are Hetty Hutter,”
said Deerslayer, in the way one puts a question unconsciously to himself,
assuming a kindness of tone and manner that were singularly adapted to win the
confidence of her he addressed. “Hurry Harry has told me of you, and I know you
must be the child?”
“Yes, I’m Hetty Hutter,”
returned the girl, in a low, sweet voice, which nature, aided by some
education, had preserved from vulgarity of tone and utterance; “I’m Hetty;
Judith Hutter’s sister; and Thomas Hutter’s youngest daughter.”
“I know your history,
then, for Hurry Harry talks considerable, and he is free of speech, when he can
find other people’s consarns to dwell on. You pass most of your life on the
lake, Hetty.”
“Certainly. Mother is
dead; father is gone a-trapping, and Judith and I stay at home. What’s your
name?”
“That’s a question more
easily asked than it is answered, young woman; seeing that I’m so young, and
yet have borne more names than some of the greatest chiefs in all America.”
“But you’ve got a
name--you don’t throw away one name before you come honestly by another?”
“I hope not, gal--I
hope not. My names have come nat’rally; and I suppose the one I bear now will be
of no great lasting, since the Delawares seldom settle on a man’s ra’al title,
until such time as he has an opportunity of showing his true natur’, in the
council, or on the war-path; which has never behappened me; seeing, firstly,
because I’m not born a red-skin, and have no right to sit in their councilings,
and am much too humble to be called on for opinions from the great of my own
colour; and, secondly, because this is the first war that has befallen in my
time, and no inimy has yet inroaded far enough into the Colony, to be reached
by an arm even longer than mine.”
“Tell me your names,”
added Hetty, looking up at him artlessly, “and, may be, I’ll tell you your
character.”
“There is some truth in
that, I’ll not deny, though it often fails. Men are deceived in other men’s
characters, and frequently give ’em names they by no means desarve. You can see
the truth of this in the Mingo names, which, in their own tongue, signify the
same things as the Delaware names--at least, so they tell me, for I know little
of that tribe, unless it be by report--and no one can say they are as honest,
or as upright a nation. I put no great dependence, therefore, on names.”
“Tell me all your
names,” repeated the girl, earnestly, for her mind was too simple to separate
things from professions, and she did attach importance to a name; “I want to
know what to think of you.”
“Well, sartain; I’ve no
objection, and you shall hear them all. In the first place, then, I’m
Christian, and white-born, like yourself, and my parents had a name that came
down from father to son, as is a part of their gifts. My father was called
Bumppo; and I was named after him, of course, the given name being Nathaniel,
or Natty, as most people saw fit to tarm it.”
“Yes, yes--Natty--and
Hetty--” interrupted the girl quickly, and looking up from her work again, with
a smile; “you are Natty, and I’m Hetty--though you are Bumppo, and I’m Hutter.
Bumppo isn’t as pretty as Hutter, is it?”
“Why, that’s as people
fancy. Bumppo has no lofty sound, I admit; and yet men have bumped through the
world with it. I did not go by this name, howsever, very long; for the
Delawares soon found out, or thought they found out, that I was not given to
lying, and they called me, firstly, Straight-tongue.”
“That’s a good name,”
interrupted Hetty, earnestly, and in a positive manner; “don’t tell me there’s
no virtue in names!”
“I do not say that, for
perhaps I desarved to be so called, lies being no favourites with me, as they
are with some. After a while they found out that I was quick of foot, and then
they called me ‘The Pigeon;’ which, you know, has a swift wing, and flies in a
direct line.”
“That was a pretty
name!” exclaimed Hetty; “pigeons are pretty birds!”
“Most things that God
has created are pretty, in their way, my good gal, though they get to be
deformed by man-kind, so as to change their natur’s, as well as their
appearance. From carrying messages, and striking blind trails, I got, at last,
to following the hunters, when it was thought I was quicker and surer at finding
the game than most lads, and then they called me the ‘Lap-ear;’ as, they said,
I partook of the sagacity of a hound.”
“That’s not so pretty,”
answered Hetty; “I hope you didn’t keep that name long.”
“Not after I was rich
enough to buy a rifle,” returned the other, betraying a little pride through
his usually quiet and subdued manner; “then it was seen I could keep a wigwam
in ven’son; and, in time, I got the name of ‘Deerslayer,’ which is that I now
bear; homely as some will think it, who set more valie on the scalp of a
fellow-mortal, than on the horns of a buck.”
“Well, Deerslayer, I’m
not one of them,” answered Hetty, simply; “Judith likes soldiers, and flary
coats, and fine feathers; but they’re all naught to me. She says the officers
are great, and gay, and of soft speech; but they make me shudder, for their
business is to kill their fellow-creatures. I like your calling better; and
your last name is a very good one--better than Natty Bumppo.”
“This is nat’ral, in
one of your turn of mind, Hetty, and much as I should have expected. They tell
me your sister is handsome--oncommon, for a mortal; and beauty is apt to seek
admiration.”
“Did you never see
Judith?” demanded the girl, with quick earnestness; “if you never have, go, at
once, and look at her. Even Hurry Harry isn’t more pleasant to look at; though
she is a woman, and he is a man.”
Deerslayer regarded the
girl, for a moment, with concern. Her pale face had flushed a little, and her
eye, usually so mild and serene, brightened as she spoke, in the way to betray
the inward impulses.
“Ay, Hurry Harry,” he
muttered to himself, as he walked through the cabin, towards the other end of
the boat; “this comes of good looks, if a light tongue has had no consarn in
it. It’s easy to see which way that poor creatur’s feelin’s are leanin’,
whatever may be the case with your Jude’s.”
But an interruption was
put to the gallantry of Hurry-- the coquetry of his mistress--the thoughts of
Deerslayer, and the gentle feelings of Hetty, by the sudden appearance of the
canoe of the ark’s owner, in the narrow opening among the bushes, that served
as a sort of moat to his position. It would seem that Hutter, or Floating Tom,
as he was familiarly called by all the hunters who knew his habits, recognized
the canoe of Hurry, for he expressed no surprise at finding him in the scow. On
the contrary, his reception was such as to denote not only gratification, but a
pleasure, mingled with a little disappointment, at his not having made his
appearance some days sooner.
“I look’d for you last
week,” he said, in a half-grumbling, half-welcoming manner; “and was
disappointed uncommonly that you didn’t arrive. There came a runner through, to
warn all the trappers and hunters that the Colony and the Canadas were again in
trouble; and I felt lonesome, up in these mountains, with three scalps to see
to, and only one pair of hands to protect them.”
“That’s reasonable,”
returned March; “and’t was feelin’ like a parent. No doubt, if I had two such
darters as Judith and Hetty, my exper’ence would tell the same story, though,
in gin’ral, I am just as well satisfied with having the nearest neighbour fifty
miles off, as when he is within call.”
“Notwithstanding, you
didn’t choose to come into the wilderness alone, now you knew that the Canada
savages are likely to be stirring,” returned Hutter, giving a sort of
distrustful, and, at the same time, inquiring glance at Deerslayer.
“Why should I? They say
a bad companion, on a journey, helps to shorten the path; and this young man I
account to be a reasonably good one. This is Deerslayer, old Tom, a noted
hunter among the Delawares, and Christian-born, and Christian-edicated, too,
like you and me. The lad is not parfect, perhaps, but there’s worse men in the
country that he came from, and, it’s likely, he ’ll find some that’s no better,
in this part of the world. Should we have occasion to defend our traps, and the
territory, he ’ll be useful in feeding us all; for he’s a reg’lar dealer in ven’son.”
“Young man, you are
welcome,” growled Tom, thrusting a hard, bony hand towards the youth, as a
pledge of his sincerity; “in such times, a white-face is a friend’s, and I
count on you as a support. Children, sometimes, make a stout heart feeble, and
these two daughters of mine give me more concern than all my traps, and skins,
and rights in the country.”
“That’s nat’ral!” cried
Hurry. “Yes, Deerslayer, you and I don’t know it, yet, by exper’ence; but, on
the whole, I consider that as nat’ral. If we had darters, it’s more than
probable we should have some such feelin’s; and I honour the man that owns ’em.
As for Judith, old man, I enlist, at once, as her soldier, and here is
Deerslayer to help you to take care of Hetty.”
“Many thanks to you,
Master March,” returned thé beauty, in a full, rich voice, and with an accuracy
of intonation and utterance that she shared in common with her sister, and
which showed that she had been better taught than their father’s life and
appearance would give reason to expect; “many thanks to you; but Judith Hutter
has the spirit and the experience that will make her depend more on herself,
than on good-looking rovers like you. Should there be need to face the savages,
do you land, with my father, instead of burrowing in the huts, under the show
of defending us females, and--”
“Girl--girl,”
interrupted the father, “quiet that glib tongue of thine, and hear the truth.
There are savages on the lake shore, already, and no man can say how near to us
they may be at this very moment, or when we may hear more from them!”
“If this be true,
Master Hutter,” said Hurry, whose change of countenance denoted how serious he
deemed the information, though it did not denote any unmanly alarm “if this be
true, your ark is in a most misfortunate position for, though the cover did
deceive Deerslayer and myself, it would hardly be overlooked by a full-blooded
Indian, who was out seriously in s’arch of scalps!”
“I think as you do,
Hurry, and wish, with all my heart, we lay anywhere else, at this moment, than
in this narrow, crooked stream, which has many advantages to hide in, but which
is almost fatal to them that are discovered. The savages are near us, moreover,
and the difficulty is, to get out of the river without being shot down like
deer standing at a lick!”
“Are you sartain,
Master Hutter, that the red-skins you dread are ra’al Canadas?” asked
Deerslayer, in a modest, but earnest manner. “Have you seen any; and can you
describe their paint?”
“I have fallen in with
the signs of their being in the neighbourhood, but have seen none of ’em. I was
down stream, a mile or so, looking to my traps, when I struck a fresh trail,
crossing the corner of a swamp, and moving northward. The man had not passed an
hour; and I know’d it for an Indian footstep by the size of the foot, and the
intoe, even before I found a worn moccasin, which its owner had dropped as
useless. For that matter, I found the spot where he halted to make a new one,
which was only a few yards from the place where he had dropped the old one.”
“That doesn’t look much
like a red-skin on the warpath!” returned the other, shaking his head. “An
exper’enced warrior, at least, would have burned, or buried, or sunk in the
river, such signs of his passage; and your trail is, quite likely, a peaceable
trail. But the moccasin may greatly relieve my mind, if you bethought you of
bringing it off. I’ve come here to meet a young chief, myself; and his course
would be much in the direction you ’ve mentioned. The trail may have been his’n.”
“Hurry Harry, you ’re
well acquainted with this young man, I hope, who has meetings with savages in a
part of the country where he has never been before?” demanded Hutter, in a tone
and in a manner that sufficiently indicated the motive of the question; these
rude beings seldom hesitating, on the score of delicacy, to betray their
feelings. “Treachery is an Indian virtue; and the whites, that live much in
their tribes, soon catch their ways and practices.”
“True--true as the
Gospel, old Tom; but not personable to Deerslayer, who’s a young man of truth,
if he has no other ricommend. I’ll answer for his honesty, whatever I may do
for his valour in battle.”
“I should like to know
his errand in this strange quarter of the country?”
“That is soon told,
Master Hutter,” said the young man, with the composure of one who kept a clean
conscience; “I think, moreover, you ’ve a right to ask it. The father of two
such darters, who occupies a lake, after your fashion, has just the same right
to inquire into a stranger’s business in his neighbourhood, as the Colony would
have to demand the reason why the Frenchers put more rijiments than common
along the lines. No, no, I ’ll not deny your right to know why a stranger comes
into your habitation, or country, in times as serious as these.”
“If such is your way of
thinking, friend, let me hear your story, without more words.”
“’T is soon told, as I
said afore; and shall be honestly told. I ’m a young man, and, as yet, have
never been on a war-path; but, no sooner did the news come among the Delawares,
that wampum and a hatchet were about to be sent in to the tribe, than they
wished me to go out among the people of my own colour, and get the exact state
of things for ’em. This I did; and, after delivering my talk to the chiefs, on
my return, I met an officer of the crown, on the Schoharie, who had moneys to
send to some of the fri’ndly tribes, that live further west. This was thought a
good occasion for Chingachgook, a young chief who has never struck a foe, and
myself, to go on our first war-path in company; and an app’intment was made for
us, by an old Delaware, to meet at the rock near the foot of this lake. I ’ll
not deny that Chingachgook has another object in view, but it has no consarn
with any here, and is his secret, and not mine; therefore I ’ll say no more
about it.”
“’T is something about
a young woman,” interrupted Judith, hastily; then laughing at her own
impetuosity, and even having the grace to colour a little at the manner in
which she had betrayed her readiness to impute such a motive. “If’t is neither
war, nor a hunt, it must be love.”
“Ay, it comes easy for
the young and handsome, who hear so much of them feelin’s, to suppose that they
lie at the bottom of most procedin’s; but, on that head, I say nothin’.
Chingachgook is to meet me at the rock, an hour afore sunset to-morrow evening,
after which we shall go our way together, molesting none but the king’s
inimies, who are lawfully our own. Knowing Hurry of old, who once trapped in
our hunting-grounds, and falling in with him on the Schoharie, just as he was
on the p’int of starting for his summer h’ants, we agreed to journey in
company; not so much from fear of the Mingos, as from good fellowship, and, as
he says, to shorten a long road.”
“And you think the
trail I saw may have been that of your friend, ahead of his time?” said Hutter.
“That’s my idee; which
may be wrong, but which may be right. If I saw the moccasin, however, I could
tell, in a minute, whether it is made in the Delaware fashion or not.”
“Here it is, then,”
said the quick-witted Judith, who had already gone to the canoe in quest of it;
“tell us what it says; friend or enemy. You look honest; and I believe all you
say, whatever father may think.”
“That’s the way with
you, Jude; for ever finding out friends, where I distrust foes,” grumbled Tom: “but,
speak out, young man, and tell us what you think of the moccasin.”
“That’s not
Delaware-made,” returned Deerslayer, examining the worn and rejected covering
for the foot with a cautious eye; “I ’m too young on a war-path to be positive,
but, I should say, that moccasin has a northern look, and comes from beyond the
great lakes.”
“If such is the case,
we ought not to lie here a minute longer than is necessary,” said Hutter,
glancing through the leaves of his cover, as if he already distrusted the
presence of an enemy, on the opposite shore of the narrow and sinuous stream. “It
wants but an hour, or so, of night, and to move in the dark will be impossible,
without making a noise that would betray us. Did you hear the echo of a piece,
in the mountains, half an hour since?”
“Yes, old man, and
heard the piece itself,” answered Hurry, who now felt the indiscretion of which
he had been guilty, “for the last was fired from my own shoulder.”
“I feared it came from
the French Indians; still, it may put them on the look-out, and be a means of
discovering us. You did wrong to fire, in war-time, unless there was good
occasion.”
“So I begin to think,
myself, uncle Tom; and yet, if a man can’t trust himself to let off his rifle
in a wilderness that is a thousand miles square, lest some inimy should hear
it, where’s the use in carrying one!”
Hutter now held a long
consultation with his two guests, in which the parties came to a true
understanding of their situation. He explained the difficulty that would exist
in attempting to get the ark out of so swift and narrow a stream, in the dark,
without making a noise that could not fail to attract Indian ears. Any
strollers, in their vicinity, would keep near the river, or the lake; but the
former had swampy shores, in many places, and was both so crooked, and so
fringed with bushes, that it was quite possible to move by day-light, without
incurring much danger of being seen. More was to be apprehended, perhaps, from
the ear, than from the eye, especially as long as they were in the short,
straitened, and canopied reaches of the stream.
“I never drop down into
this cover, which is handy to my traps, and safer than the lake, from curious
eyes, without providing the means of getting out ag’in,” continued this
singular being; “and that is easier done by a pull, than a push. My anchor is
now lying above the suction, in the open lake; and here is a line, you see, to
haul us up to it. Without some such help, a single pair of hands would make
heavy work, in forcing a scow, like this, up stream. I have a sort of a crab,
too, that lightens the pull, on occasion. Jude can use the oar, astarn, as well
as myself; and, when we fear no enemy, to get out of the river gives us but
little trouble.”
“What should we gain,
Master Hutter, by changing the position?” asked Deerslayer, with a good deal of
earnestness; “this is a safe cover; and a stout defence might be made from the
inside of this cabin. I ’ve never fou’t, unless in the way of tradition; but,
it seems to me, we might beat off twenty Mingos, with palisades like them afore
us.”
“Ay, ay; you ’ve never
fought, except in traditions, that’s plain enough, young man! Did you ever see
as broad a sheet of water as this above us, before you came in upon it, with
Hurry?”
“I can’t say that I
ever did,” Deerslayer answered, modestly. “Youth is the time to l’arn; and I ’m
far from wishing to raise my voice in council, afore it is justified by exper’ence.”
“Well, then, I ’ll
teach you the disadvantage of fighting in this position, and the advantage of
taking to the open lake. Here, you may see, the savages will know where to aim
every shot; and it would be too much to hope that some would not find their way
through the crevices of the logs. Now, on the other hand, we should have
nothing but a forest to aim at. Then we are not safe from fire, here; the bark
of this roof being little better than so much kindling-wood. The castle, too,
might be entered and ransacked, in my absence, and all my possessions overrun
and destroyed. Once in the lake, we can be attacked only in boats, or on
rafts-- shall have a fair chance with the enemy--and can protect the castle
with the ark. Do you understand this reasoning, youngster?”
“It sounds well--yes,
it has a rational sound; and I ’ll not gainsay it.”
“Well, old Tom,” cried
Hurry, “if we are to move, the sooner we make a beginning, the sooner we shall
know whether we are to have our scalps for night-caps, or not.”
As this proposition was
self-evident, no one denied its justice. The three men, after a short
preliminary explanation, now set about their preparations to move the ark, in
earnest. The slight fastenings were quickly loosened; and, by hauling on the
line, the heavy craft slowly emerged from the cover. It was no sooner free from
the incumbrance of the branches, than it swung into the stream, sheering quite
close to the western shore, by the force of the current. Not a soul on board
heard the rustling of the branches, as the cabin came against the bushes and
trees of the western bank, without a feeling of uneasiness; for no one knew at
what moment, or in what place, a secret and murderous enemy might unmask
himself. Perhaps the gloomy light, that still struggled through the impending
canopy of leaves, or found its way through the narrow, riband-like opening, which
seemed to mark, in the air above, the course of the river that flowed beneath,
aided in augmenting the appearance of the danger; for it was little more than
sufficient to render objects visible, without giving up all their outlines at a
glance. Although the sun had not absolutely set, it had withdrawn its direct
rays from the valley; and the hues of evening were beginning to gather around
objects that stood uncovered, rendering those within the shadows of the woods,
still more sombre and gloomy.
No interruption
followed the movement, however, and, as the men continued to haul on the line,
the ark passed steadily ahead, the great breadth of the scow preventing its
sinking into the water, and, from offering much resistance to the progress of
the swift element beneath its bottom. Hutter, too, had adopted a precaution,
suggested by experience, which might have done credit to a seaman, and which
completely prevented any of the annoyances and obstacles which, otherwise,
would have attended the short turns of the river. As the ark descended, heavy
stones, attached to the line, were dropped in the centre of the stream, forming
local anchors, each of which was kept from dragging by the assistance of those
above it, until the uppermost of all was reached, which got its “backing” from
the anchor, or grapnel, that lay well out in the lake. In consequence of this
expedient, the ark floated clear of the incumbrances of the shore, against
which it would otherwise have been unavoidably hauled at every turn, producing
embarrassments that Hutter, single-handed, would have found it very difficult
to overcome.
Favoured by this
foresight, and stimulated by the apprehension of discovery, Floating Tom and
his two athletic companions hauled the ark ahead, with quite as much rapidity
as comported with the strength of the line. At every turn in the stream, a
stone was raised from the bottom, when the direction of the scow changed to one
that pointed towards the stone that lay above. In this manner, with the channel
buoyed out for him, as a sailor might term it, did Hutter move forward,
occasionally urging his friends, in a low and guarded voice, to increase their
exertions, and then, as occasions offered, warning them against efforts that
might, at particular moments, endanger all by too much zeal. In spite of their
long familiarity with the woods, the gloomy character of the shaded river added
to the uneasiness that each felt; and when the ark reached the first bend in
the Susquehannah, and the eye caught a glimpse of the broader expanse of the
lake, all felt a relief, that perhaps neither would have been willing to
confess. Here the last stone was raised from the bottom, and the line led
directly towards the grapnel, which, as Hutter had explained, was dropped above
the suction of the current.
“Thank God!” ejaculated
Hurry, “there is day-light, and we shall soon have a chance of seeing our
inimies, if we are to feel ’em.”
“That is more than you,
or any man can say,” growled Hutter. “There is no spot so likely to harbour a
party, as the shore around the outlet; and the moment we clear these trees, and
get into open water, will be the most trying time, since it will leave the
enemy a cover, while it puts us out of one. Judith, girl; do you and Hetty
leave the oar to take care of itself, and go within the cabin; and be mindful
not to show your faces at a window; for they who will look at them won’t stop
to praise their beauty. And now, Hurry, we’ll step into this outer room,
ourselves, and haul through the door, where we shall all be safe, from a
surprise, at least. Friend Deerslayer, as the current is lighter, and the line
has all the strain on it that is prudent, do you keep moving from window to
window, taking care not to let your head be seen, if you set any value on life.
No one knows when, or where, we shall hear from our neighbours.”
Deerslayer complied,
with a sensation that had nothing in common with fear, but which had all the
interest of a perfectly novel, and a most exciting situation. For the first
time in his life, he was in the vicinity of enemies, or had good reason to
think so; and that, too, under all the thrilling circumstances of Indian
surprises, and Indian artifices. As he took his stand at a window, the ark was
just passing through the narrowest part of the stream, a point where the water
first entered what was properly termed the river, and where the trees fairly
interlocked over-head, causing the current to rush into an arch of verdure; a
feature as appropriate and peculiar to the country, perhaps, as that of Switzerland,
where the rivers come rushing literally from chambers of ice.
The ark was in the act
of passing the last curve of this leafy entrance, as Deerslayer, having
examined all that could be seen of the eastern bank of the river, crossed the
room to look from the opposite window, at the western. His arrival at this
aperture was most opportune, for he had no sooner placed his eye at a crack,
than a sight met his gaze that might well have alarmed a sentinel so young and
inexperienced. A sapling overhung the water, in nearly half a circle, having
first grown towards the light, and then been pressed down into this form by the
weight of the snows; a circumstance of common occurrence in the American woods.
On this tree no less than six Indians had already appeared, others standing
ready to follow them, as they left room; each evidently bent on running out on
the trunk, and dropping on the roof of the ark, as it passed beneath. This
would have been an exploit of no great difficulty, the inclination of the tree
admitting of an easy passage, the adjoining branches offering ample support for
the hands, and the fall being too trifling to be apprehended. When Deerslayer
first saw this party, it was just unmasking itself, by ascending the part of
the tree nearest to the earth, or that which was much the most difficult to
overcome; and his knowledge of Indian habits told him, at once, that they were
all in their warpaint, and belonged to a hostile tribe.
“Pull, Hurry,” he
cried; “pull for your life, and as you love Judith Hutter! Pull, man, pull!”
This call was made to
one that the young man knew had the strength of a giant. It was so earnest and
solemn, that both Hutter and March felt it was not idly given, and they applied
all their force to the line simultaneously, and at a most critical moment. The
scow redoubled its motion, and seemed to glide from under the tree as if
conscious of the danger that was impending over-head. Perceiving that they were
discovered, the Indians uttered the fearful war-whoop, and running forward on
the tree, leaped desperately towards their fancied prize. There were six on the
tree, and each made the effort. All but their leader fell into the river, more
or less distant from the ark, as they came, sooner or later, to the
leaping-place. The chief, who had taken the dangerous post in advance, having
an earlier opportunity than the others, struck the scow just within the stern.
The fall proving so much greater than he had anticipated, he was slightly
stunned, and, for a moment, he remained half bent and unconscious of his
situation. At this instant Judith rushed from the cabin, her beauty heightened
by the excitement that produced the bold act, which flushed her cheek to
crimson, and, throwing all her strength into the effort, she pushed the intruder
over the edge of the scow, headlong into the river. This decided feat was no
sooner accomplished than the woman resumed her sway; Judith looked over the
stern to ascertain what had become of the man, and the expression of her eyes
softened to concern; next, her cheek crimsoned between shame and surprise, at
her own temerity; and then she laughed, in her own merry and sweet manner. All
this occupied less than a minute, when the arm of Deerslayer was thrown around
her waist, and she was dragged swiftly within the protection of the cabin. This
retreat was not effected too soon. Scarcely were the two in safety, when the
forest was filled with yells, and bullets began to patter against the logs.
The ark being in swift
motion all this while, it was beyond the danger of pursuit by the time these
little events had occurred; and the savages, as soon as the first burst of
their anger had subsided, ceased firing, with the consciousness that they were
expending their ammunition in vain. When the scow came up over her grapnel,
Hutter tripped the latter, in a way not to impede the motion; and being now
beyond the influence of the current, the vessel continued to drift ahead, until
fairly in the open lake, though still near enough to the land to render
exposure to a rifle-bullet dangerous. Hutter and March got out two small
sweeps, and, covered by the cabin, they soon urged the ark far enough from the
shore, to leave no inducement to their enemies to make any further attempt to
injure them.
“Why, let the stricken
deer go weep,
The hart ungalled play: For
some must watch, while some must sleep;
Thus runs the world away.”
Shakspeare Another consultation took
place, in the forward part of the scow, at which both Judith and Hetty were
present. As no danger could now approach unseen, immediate uneasiness had given
place to the concern which attended the conviction that enemies were, in
considerable force, on the shores of the lake, and that they might be sure no
practicable means of accomplishing their own destruction would be neglected. As
a matter of course, Hutter felt these truths the deepest, his daughters having
an habitual reliance on his resources, and knowing too little to appreciate
fully all the risks they ran; while his male companions were at liberty to quit
him at any moment they saw fit. His first remark showed that he had an eye to
the latter circumstance, and might have betrayed, to a keen observer, the
apprehension that was, just then, uppermost.
“We’ve a great
advantage over the Iroquois, or the enemy, whoever they are, in being afloat,”
he said. “There’s not a canoe on the lake, that I don’t know where it’s hid;
and now yours is here, Hurry, there are but three more on the land, and they’re
so snug in hollow logs, that I don’t believe the Indians could find them, let
them try ever so long.”
“There’s no telling
that--no one can say that,” put in Deerslayer; “a hound is not more sartain on
the scent, than a red-skin, when he expects to get any thing by it. Let this
party see scalps afore ’em, or plunder, or honour, accordin’ to their idees of
what honour is, and ’t will be a tight log that hides a canoe from their eyes.”
“You’re right,
Deerslayer,” cried Harry March; “you’re downright Gospel, in this matter, and I
rej’ice that my bunch of bark is safe enough, here, within reach of my arm. I
calcilate they’ll be at all the rest of the canoes, afore tomorrow night, if
they are in ra’al ’arnest to smoke you out, old Tom, and we may as well
overhaul our paddles, for a pull.”
Hutter made no
immediate reply. He looked about him in silence, for quite a minute; examining
the sky, the lake, and the belt of forest which enclosed it, as it might be
hermetically, like one consulting their signs. Nor did he find any alarming
symptoms. The boundless woods were sleeping in the deep repose of nature, the
heavens were placid, but still luminous with the light of the retreating sun,
while the lake looked more lovely and calm than it had before done that day. It
was a scene altogether soothing, and of a character to lull the passions into a
species of holy calm. How far this effect was produced, however, on the party
in the ark, must appear in the progress of our narrative.
“Judith,” called out
the father, when he had taken this close, but short survey, of the omens, “night
is at hand; find our friends food; a long march gives a sharp appetite.”
“We’re not starving,
Master Hutter,” March observed, “for we filled up just as we reached the lake,
and, for one, I prefar the company of Jude, even to her supper. This quiet evening
is very agreeable to sit by her side.”
“Natur’ is natur’,”
objected Hutter, “and must be fed. Judith, see to the meal, and take your
sister to help you. I’ve a little discourse to hold with you, friends,” he
continued, as soon as his daughters were out of hearing, “and wish the girls
away. You see my situation; and I should like to hear your opinions concerning
what is best to be done. Three times have I been burnt out, already, but that
was on the shore; and I’ve considered myself as pretty safe, ever since I got
the castle built, and the ark afloat. My other accidents, however, happened in
peaceable times, being nothing more than such flurries as a man must meet with,
in the woods; but this matter looks serious, and your ideas would greatly relieve
my mind.”
“It’s my notion, old
Tom, that you, and your huts, and your traps, and your whole possessions,
hereaway, are in desperate jippardy,” returned the matter-of-fact Hurry, who
saw no use in concealment. “Accordin’ to my idees of valie, they’re altogether
not worth half as much to-day, as they was yesterday, nor would I give more for’em,
taking the pay in skins.”
“Then I’ve children!”
continued the father, making the allusion in a way that it might have puzzled
even an indifferent observer to say was intended as a bait, or as an
exclamation of paternal concern; “daughters, as you know, Hurry; and good
girls, too, I may say, though I am their father.”
“A man may say any
thing, Master Hutter, particularily when pressed by time and circumstances. You’ve
darters, as you say, and one of them hasn’t her equal on the frontiers, for
good-looks, whatever she may have for good-behaviour. As for poor Hetty, she’s
Hetty Hutter, and that’s as much as one can say about the poor thing. Give me
Jude, if her conduct was only equal to her looks!”
“I see, Harry March, I
can only count on you as a fair-weather friend; and I suppose that your
companion will be of the same way of thinking,” returned the other, with a
slight show of pride, that was not altogether without dignity; “well; I must
depend on Providence, which will not turn a deaf ear, perhaps, to a father’s
prayers.”
“If you’ve understood
Hurry, here, to mean that he intends to desart you,” said Deerslayer, with an
earnest simplicity that gave double assurance of its truth, “I think you do him
injustice; as I know you do me, in supposing I would follow him, was he so
ontrue-hearted as to leave a family of his own colour, in such a strait as
this. I’ve come on this lake, Master Hutter, to rende’vous a fri’nd, and I only
wish he was here, himself, as I make no doubt he will be, at sunset to-morrow,
when you’d have another rifle to aid you; an inexper’enced one, I’ll allow,
like my own, but one that has proved true so often ag’in the game, big and
little, that I’ll answer for its sarvice ag’in mortals.”
“May I depend on you to
stand by me and my daughters, then, Deerslayer?” demanded the old man, with a
father’s anxiety in his countenance.
“That may you, Floating
Tom, if that’s your name; and as a brother would stand by a sister--a husband
his wife-- or a suitor his sweetheart. In this strait, you may count on me,
through all advarsities; and, I think, Hurry does discredit to his natur’ and
wishes, if you can’t count on him.”
“Not he,” cried Judith,
thrusting her handsome face out of the door; “his nature is hurry, as well as
his name, and he’ll hurry off, as soon as he thinks his fine figure in danger.
Neither ‘old Tom,’ nor his ‘gals,’ will depend much on Master March, now they
know him, but you they will rely on, Deerslayer; for your honest face, and
honest heart, tell us that what you promise you will perform.”
This was said, as much,
perhaps, in affected scorn for Hurry, as in sincerity. Still, it was not said
without feeling. The fine face of Judith sufficiently proved the latter
circumstance; and if the conscious March fancied that he had never seen in it a
stronger display of contempt--a feeling in which the beauty was apt to
indulge--than while she was looking at him, it certainly seldom exhibited more
of womanly softness and sensibility, than when her speaking blue eyes were
turned on his travelling companion.
“Leave us, Judith,”
Hutter ordered sternly, before either of the young men could reply; “leave us;
and do not return until you come with the venison and fish. The girl has been
spoilt by the flattery of the officers, who sometimes find their way up here,
Master March, and you’ll not think any harm of her silly words.”
“You never said truer
syllable, old Tom,” retorted Hurry, who smarted under Judith’s observations; “the
devil-tongued youngsters of the garrison have proved her undoing! I scarce know
Jude any longer, and shall soon take to admiring her sister; who is getting to
be much more to my fancy.”
“I’m glad to hear this,
Harry, and look upon it as a sign that you’re coming to your right senses.
Hetty would make a much safer and more rational companion than Jude, and would
be much the most likely to listen to your suit, as the officers have, I greatly
fear, unsettled her sister’s mind.”
“No man need a safer
wife than Hetty,” said Hurry, laughing, “though I’ll not answer for her being
of the most rational. But, no matter; Deerslayer has not misconceived me, when
he told you I should be found at my post. I’ll not quit you, uncle Tom, just
now, whatever may be my feelin’s and intentions respecting your eldest darter.”
Hurry had a respectable
reputation for prowess among his associates, and Hutter heard this pledge with
a satisfaction that was not concealed. Even the great personal strength of such
an aid, became of moment, in moving the ark, as well as in the species of
hand-to-hand conflicts, that were not unfrequent in the woods; and no commander
who was hard pressed, could feel more joy at hearing of the arrival of
reinforcements, than the borderer experienced at being told this important
auxiliary was not about to quit him. A minute before, Hutter would have been
well content to compromise his danger, by entering into a compact to act only
on the defensive; but no sooner did he feel some security on this point, than
the restlessness of man induced him to think of the means of carrying the war
into the enemy’s country.
“High prices are
offered for scalps, on both sides,” he observed, with a grim smile, as if he
felt the force of the inducement, at the very time he wished to affect a
superiority to earning money by means that the ordinary feelings of those who
aspire to be civilized men, repudiated, even while they were adopted. “It isn’t
right, perhaps, to take gold for human blood; and yet, when mankind is busy in
killing one another, there can be no great harm in adding a little bit of skin
to the plunder. What’s your sentiments, Hurry, touching these p’ints?”
“That you’ve made a
vast mistake, old man, in calling savage blood, human blood, at all. I think no
more of a red-skin’s scalp, than I do of a pair of wolf’s ears; and would just
as lief finger money for one, as for the other. With white people ’t is
different, for they’ve a nat’ral avarsion to being scalped; whereas your Indian
shaves his head in readiness for the knife, and leaves a lock of hair, by way
of braggadocio, that one can lay hold of, in the bargain.”
“That’s manly, however,
and I felt, from the first, that we had only to get you on our side, to have
you heart and hand,” returned Tom, losing all his reserve, as he gained a
renewed confidence in the disposition of his companion. “Something more may
turn up from this inroad of the redskins, than they bargained for. Deerslayer,
I conclude you’re of Hurry’s way of thinking, and look upon money ’arned in
this way, as being as likely to pass, as money ’arned in trapping, or hunting.”
“I’ve no such feelin’,
nor any wish to harbour it, not I,” returned the other. “My gifts are not
scalpers’ gifts, but such as belong to my religion and colour. I’ll stand by
you, old man, in the ark, or in the castle, the canoe, or the woods, but I’ll
not unhumanize my natur’ by falling into ways that God intended for another
race. If you and Hurry have got any thoughts that lean towards the Colony’s
gold, go by yourselves in s’arch of it, and leave the females to my care. Much
as I must differ from you both, on all gifts that do not properly belong to a
white man, we shall agree that it is the duty of the strong to take care of the
weak, especially when the last belong to them that natur’ intended man to
protect and console by his gentleness and strength.”
“Hurry Harry, that is a
lesson you might learn and practise on to some advantage,” said the sweet, but
spirited voice of Judith, from the cabin; a proof that she had overheard all
that had hitherto been said.
“No more of this, Jude,”
called out the father angrily. “Move further off; we are about to talk of
matters unfit for a woman to listen to.”
Hutter did not take any
steps, however, to ascertain whether he was obeyed or not, but, dropping his
voice a little, he pursued the discourse.
“The young man is
right, Hurry,” he said; “and we can leave the children in his care. Now, my
idea is just this; and I think you’ll agree that it is rational and correct. There’s
a large party of these savages on the shore; and, though I didn’t tell it
before the girls, for they’re womanish, and apt to be troublesome when any
thing like real work is to be done, there’s women among ’em. This I know from
moccasin prints; and ’t is likely they are hunters, after all, who have been
out so long that they know nothing of the war, or of the bounties.”
“In which case, old
Tom, why was their first salute an attempt to cut all our throats?”
“We don’t know that
their design was so bloody. It’s natural and easy for an Indian to fall into
ambushes and surprises; and, no doubt, they wished to get on board the ark
first, and to make their conditions afterwards. That a disapp’inted savage
should fire at us, is in rule; and I think nothing of that. Besides, how often
have they burned me out, and robbed my traps--ay, and pulled trigger on me, in
the most peaceful times?”
“The blackguards will
do such things, I must allow; and we pay ’em off pretty much in their own c’ine.
Women would not be on the war-path, sartainly; and, so far, there’s reason in
your idee.”
“Nor would a hunter be
in his war-paint,” returned Deerslayer. “I saw the Mingos, and know that they
are out on the trail of mortal men; and not for beaver or deer.”
“There you have it ag’in,
old fellow,” said Hurry. “In the way of an eye, now, I’d as soon trust this
young man, as trust the oldest settler in the Colony; if he says paint, why
paint it was.”
“Then a hunting-party
and a war-party have met, for women must have been with ’em. It’s only a few
days since the runner went through with the tidings of the troubles; and, it
may be, that warriors have come out to call in their women and children, and to
get an early blow.”
“That would stand the
courts, and is just the truth,” cried Hurry; “you’ve got it now, old Tom, and I
should like to hear what you mean to make out of it?”
“The bounty;” returned
the other, looking up at his attentive companion, in a cool, sullen manner, in
which, however, heartless cupidity, and indifference to the means, were far
more conspicuous than any feelings of animosity or revenge. “If there’s women,
there’s children; and big and little have scalps; the Colony pays for all
alike.”
“More shame to it, that
it should do so,” interrupted Deerslayer; “more shame to it, that it don’t
understand its gifts, and pay greater attention to the will of God.”
“Hearken to reason,
lad, and don’t cry out afore you understand a case,” returned the unmoved
Hurry; “the savages scalp your fri’nds, the Delawares, or Mohicans, whichever
they may be, among the rest; and why shouldn’t we scalp? I will own, it would
be ag’in right for you and me, now, to go into the settlements and bring out
scalps, but it’s a very different matter as consarns Indians. A man shouldn’t
take scalps, if he isn’t ready to be scalped, himself, on fitting occasions.
One good turn desarves another, all the world over. That’s reason, and I
believe it to be good religion.”
“Ay, Master Hurry,”
again interrupted the rich voice of Judith, “is it religion to say that one bad
turn deserves another?”
“I’ll never reason ag’in
you, Judy, for you beat me with beauty, if you can’t with sense. Here’s the
Canadas paying their Indians for scalps, and why not we pay--”
“Our Indians!”
exclaimed the girl, laughing with a sort of melancholy merriment. “Father,
father! think no more of this, and listen to the advice of Deerslayer, who has
a conscience; which is more than I can say, or think, of Harry March.”
Hutter now rose, and,
entering the cabin, he compelled his daughters to go into the adjoining room,
when he secured both the doors, and returned. Then he and Hurry pursued the
subject; but, as the purport of all that was material in this discourse will
appear in the narrative, it need not be related here, in detail. The reader,
however, can have no difficulty in comprehending the morality that presided
over their conference. It was, in truth, that which, in some form or other,
rules most of the acts of men, and in which the controlling principle is, that
one wrong will justify another. Their enemies paid for scalps; and this was
sufficient to justify the Colony for retaliating. It is true, the French used
the same argument, a circumstance, as Hurry took occasion to observe, in answer
to one of Deerslayer’s objections, that proved its truth, as mortal enemies
would not be likely to have recourse to the same reason, unless it were a good
one. But, neither Hutter nor Hurry was a man likely to stick at trifles, in
matters connected with the rights of the aborigines, since it is one of the
consequences of aggression, that it hardens the conscience, as the only means
of quieting it. In the most peaceable state of the country, a species of
warfare was carried on between the Indians, especially those of the Canadas,
and men of their caste; and, the moment an actual and recognised warfare
existed, it was regarded as the means of lawfully revenging a thousand wrongs,
real and imaginary. Then, again, there was some truth, and a good deal of
expediency, in the principle of retaliation, of which they both availed
themselves, in particular, to answer the objections of their juster-minded and
more scrupulous companion.
“You must fight a man
with his own we’pons, Deerslayer,” cried Hurry, in his uncouth dialect, and in
his dogmatical manner of disposing of all moral propositions; “if he’s f’erce,
you must be f’ercer; if he’s stout of heart, you must be stouter. This is the
way to get the better of Christian or savage: by keeping up to this trail, you’ll
get soonest to the ind of your journey.”
“That’s not Moravian
doctrine, which teaches that all are to be judged according to their talents,
or l’arning; the Indian, like an Indian; and the white man, like a white man.
Some of their teachers say, that if you’re struck on the cheek, it’s a duty to
turn the other side of the face, and take another blow, instead of seeking
revenge, whereby I understand--”
“That’s enough!”
shouted Hurry; “that’s all I want, to prove a man’s doctrine! How long would it
take to kick a man through the Colony--in at one ind, and out at the other, on
that principle?”
“Don’t mistake me,
March,” returned the young hunter, with dignity; “I don’t understand by this,
any more, than that it’s best to do this, if possible. Revenge is an Indian
gift, and forgiveness a white man’s. That’s all. Overlook all you can, is what’s
meant; and not revenge all you can. As for kicking, Master Hurry,” and
Deerslayer’s sun-burnt cheek flushed, as he continued, “into the Colony, or out
of the Colony, that’s neither here nor there, seeing no one proposes it, and no
one would be likely to put up with it. What I wish to say is, that a red-skin’s
scalping don’t justify a pale-face’s scalping.”
“Do as you’re done by,
Deerslayer; that’s ever the Christian parson’s doctrine.”
“No, Hurry, I’ve asked
the Moravians consarning that; and it’s altogether different. ‘Do as you would
be done by,’ they tell me, is the true saying, while men practyse the false.
They think all the Colonies wrong, that offer bounties for scalps, and believe
no blessing will follow the measures. Above all things, they forbid revenge.”
“That for your
Moravians!” cried March, snapping his fingers; “they’re the next thing to
Quakers; and if you’d believe all they tell you, not even a ’rat would be
skinned, out of marcy. Who ever heard of marcy on a muskrat!”
The disdainful manner
of Hurry prevented a reply, and he and the old man resumed the discussion of
their plans in a more quiet and confidential manner. This conference lasted
until Judith appeared, bearing the simple, but savoury supper. March observed,
with a little surprise, that she placed the choicest bits before Deerslayer,
and that in the little nameless attentions it was in her power to bestow, she
quite obviously manifested a desire to let it be seen that she deemed him the
honoured guest. Accustomed, however, to the waywardness and coquetry of the
beauty, this discovery gave him little concern, and he ate with an appetite
that was in no degree disturbed by any moral causes. The easily-digested food
of the forests offering the fewest possible obstacles to the gratification of
this great animal indulgence, Deerslayer, notwithstanding the hearty meal both
had taken in the woods, was in no manner behind his companion, in doing justice
to the viands.
An hour later, the
scene had greatly changed. The lake was still placid and glassy, but the gloom
of the hour had succeeded to the soft twilight of a summer evening, and all
within the dark setting of the woods lay in the quiet repose of night. The
forests gave up no song, or cry, or even murmur, but looked down from the hills
on the lovely basin they encircled, in solemn stillness; and the only sound
that was audible, was the regular dip of the sweeps, at which Hurry and
Deerslayer lazily pushed, impelling the ark towards the castle. Hutter had
withdrawn to the stern of the scow, in order to steer, but, finding that the
young men kept even strokes, and held the desired course by their own skill, he
had permitted the oar to drag in the water, taken a seat on the end of the vessel,
and lighted his pipe. He had not been thus placed many minutes, ere Hetty came
stealthily out of the cabin, or house, as they usually termed that part of the
ark, and placed herself at his feet, on a little bench that she brought with
her. As this movement was by no means unusual in his feeble-minded child, the
old man paid no other attention to it, than to lay his hand kindly on her head,
in an affectionate and approving manner; an act of grace that the girl received
in meek silence.
After a pause of
several minutes, Hetty began to sing. Her voice was low and tremulous, but it
was earnest and solemn. The words and the time were of the simplest form, the
first being a hymn that she had been taught by her mother, and the last one of
those natural melodies that find favour with all classes, in every age, coming
from, and being addressed to, the feelings. Hutter never listened to this
simple strain without finding his heart and manner softened; facts that his
daughter well knew, and by which she had often profited, through the sort of
holy instinct that enlightens the weak of mind, more especially in their aims
toward good.
Hetty’s low, sweet
tones had not been raised many moments, when the dip of the oars ceased, and
the holy strain arose singly on the breathing silence of the wilderness. As if
she gathered courage with the theme, her powers appeared to increase as she
proceeded; and though nothing vulgar, or noisy, mingled in her melody, its
strength and melancholy tenderness grew on the ear, until the air was filled
with this simple homage of a soul that seemed almost spotless. That the men
forward were not indifferent to this touching interruption, was proved by their
inaction; nor did their oars again dip, until the last of the sweet sounds had
actually died among the remarkable shores, which, at that witching hour, would
waft, even the lowest modulations of the human voice, more than a mile. Hutter,
himself, was affected; for, rude as he was by early habits, and even ruthless
as he had got to be by long exposure to the practices of the wilderness, his
nature was of that fearful mixture of good and evil, that so generally enters
into the moral composition of man.
“You are sad to-night,
child,” said the father, whose manner and language usually assumed some of the
gentleness and elevation of the civilized life he had led in youth, when he
thus communed with this particular child; “we have just escaped from enemies,
and ought rather to rejoice.”
“You can never do it,
father!” said Hetty, in a low remonstrating manner, taking his hard knotty hand
into both her own; “you have talked long with Harry March; but neither of you
will have the heart to do it!”
“This is going beyond
your means, foolish child; you must have been naughty enough to have listened,
or you could know nothing of our talk.”
“Why should you and
Hurry kill people--especially women and children?”
“Peace, girl, peace; we
are at war, and must do to our enemies as our enemies would do to us.”
“That’s not it, father!
I heard Deerslayer say how it was. You must do to your enemies, as you wish
your enemies would do to you. No man wishes his enemies to kill him.”
“We kill our enemies in
war, girl, lest they should kill us. One side or the other must begin; and them
that begin first, are most apt to get the victory. You know nothing about these
things, poor Hetty, and had best say nothing.”
“Judith says it is
wrong, father; and Judith has sense, though I have none.”
“Jude understands
better than to talk to me of these matters; for she has sense, as you say, and
knows I’ll not bear it. Which would you prefer, Hetty; to have your own scalp
taken, and sold to the French, or that we should kill our enemies, and keep
them from harming us?”
“That’s not it, father!
Don’t kill them, nor let them kill us. Sell your skins, and get more, if you
can; but don’t sell blood.”
“Come, come, child; let
us talk of matters you understand. Are you glad to see our old friend, March,
back again? You like Hurry, and must know that one day he may be your
brother--if not something nearer.”
“That can’t be, father,”
returned the girl, after a considerable pause; “Hurry has had one father, and
one mother; and people never have two.”
“So much for your weak
mind, Hetty. When Jude marries, her husband’s father will be her father, and
her husband’s sister, her sister. If she should marry Hurry, then he will be
your brother.”
“Judith will never have
Hurry,” returned the girl mildly, but positively; “Judith don’t like Hurry.”
“That’s more than you
can know, Hetty. Harry March is the handsomest, and the strongest, and the
boldest young man that ever visits the lake; and, as Jude is the greatest
beauty, I don’t see why they shouldn’t come together. He has as much as
promised that he will enter into this job with me, on condition that I’ll
consent.”
Hetty began to move her
body back and forth, and otherwise to express mental agitation; but she made no
answer for more than a minute. Her father, accustomed to her manner, and
suspecting no immediate cause of concern, continued to smoke with the apparent
phlegm which would seem to belong to that particular species of enjoyment.
“Hurry is handsome,
father,” said Hetty, with a simple emphasis, that she might have hesitated
about using, had her mind been more alive to the inferences of others.
“I told you so, child,”
muttered old Hutter, without removing the pipe from between his teeth; “he’s
the likeliest youth in these parts; and Jude is the likeliest young woman I’ve
met with since her poor mother was in her best days.”
“Is it wicked to be
ugly, father?”
“One might be guilty of
worse things--but you’re by no means ugly; though not so comely as Jude.”
“Is Judith any happier
for being so handsome?”
“She may be, child; and
she may not be. But talk of other matters, now; for you hardly understand
these, poor Hetty. How do you like our new acquaintance, Deerslayer?”
“He isn’t handsome,
father. Hurry is far handsomer than Deerslayer.”
“That’s true; but they
say he is a noted hunter! His fame had reached me before I ever saw him; and I
did hope he would prove to be as stout a warrior, as he is dexterous with the
deer. All men are not alike, howsever, child; and it takes time, as I know by
experience, to give a man a true wilderness heart.”
“Have I got a
wilderness heart, father--and, Hurry, is his heart true wilderness?”
“You sometimes ask
queer questions, Hetty! Your heart is good, child, and fitter for the
settlements than for the woods; while your reason is fitter for the woods than
for the settlements.”
“Why has Judith more
reason than I, father?”
“Heaven help thee,
child!--this is more than I can answer. God gives sense, and appearance, and
all these things; and he grants them as he seeth fit. Dost thou wish for more
sense?”
“Not I. The little I
have troubles me; for when I think the hardest, then I feel the unhappiest. I
don’t believe thinking is good for me, though I do wish I was as handsome as
Judith!”
“Why so, poor child?
Thy sister’s beauty may cause her trouble, as it caused her mother before her.
It’s no advantage, Hetty, to be so marked for any thing as to become an object
of envy, or to be sought after more than others.”
“Mother was good, if
she was handsome,” returned the girl, the tears starting to her eyes, as
usually happened when she adverted to her deceased parent.
Old Hutter, if not
equally affected, was moody and silent at this allusion to his wife. He
continued smoking, without appearing disposed to make any answer, until his
simple-minded daughter repeated her remark, in a way to show that she felt
uneasiness, lest he might be inclined to deny her assertion. Then he knocked
the ashes out of his pipe, and laying his hand in a sort of rough kindness on
the girl’s head, he made a reply.
“Thy mother was too
good for this world,” he said; “though others might not think so. Her good
looks did not befriend her; and you have no occasion to mourn that you are not
as much like her as your sister. Think less of beauty, child, and more of your
duty, and you’ll be as happy on this lake, as you could be in the king’s palace.”
“I know it, father; but
Hurry says beauty is every thing, in a young woman.”
Hutter made an
ejaculation expressive of dissatisfaction, and went forward; passing through
the house, in order to do so. Hetty’s simple betrayal of her weakness in behalf
of March, gave him uneasiness on a subject concerning which he had never felt
before; and he determined to come to an explanation at once with his visiter;
for directness of speech, and decision in conduct, were two of the best
qualities of this rude being, in whom the seeds of a better education seemed to
be constantly struggling upward, to be choked by the fruits of a life, in which
his hard struggles for subsistence and security, had steeled his feelings and
indurated his nature. When he reached the forward end of the scow, he
manifested an intention to relieve Deerslayer at the oar, directing the latter
to take his own place aft. By these changes, the old man and Hurry were again
left alone, while the young hunter was transferred to the other end of the ark.
Hetty had disappeared
when Deerslayer reached his new post, and for some little time he directed the
course of the slow-moving craft by himself. It was not long, however, before
Judith came out of the cabin, as if disposed to do the honours of the place to
a stranger engaged in the service of her family. The star-light was sufficient
to permit objects to be plainly distinguished, when near at hand, and the
bright eyes of the girl had an expression of kindness in them, when they met
those of the youth, that the latter was easily enabled to discover. Her rich
hair shaded her spirited, and yet soft countenance, even at that hour rendering
it the more beautiful--as the rose is loveliest when reposing amid the shadows
and contrasts of its native foliage. Little ceremony is used in the intercourse
of the woods; and Judith had acquired a readiness of address, by the admiration
that she so generally excited, which, if it did not amount to forwardness,
certainly in no degree lent to her charms the aid of that retiring modesty on
which poets love to dwell.
“I thought I should
have killed myself with laughing, Deerslayer,” the beauty abruptly, but
coquettishly commenced, “when I saw that Indian dive into the river! He was a
good-looking savage, too,” the girl always dwelt on personal beauty as a sort
of merit, “and yet one couldn’t stop to consider whether his paint would stand
water!”
“And I thought they
would have killed you with their we’pons, Judith,” returned Deerslayer; “it was
an awful risk for a female to run, in the face of a dozen Mingos!”
“Did that make you come
out of the cabin, in spite of their rifles, too?” asked the girl, with more
real interest than she would have cared to betray, though with an indifference
of manner that was the result of a good deal of practice, united to native
readiness.
“Men ar’n’t apt to see
females in danger, and not come to their assistance. Even a Mingo knows that.”
This sentiment was
uttered with as much simplicity of manner as of feeling, and Judith rewarded it
with a smile so sweet, that even Deerslayer, who had imbibed a prejudice
against the girl, in consequence of Hurry’s suspicions of her levity, felt its
charm, notwithstanding half its winning influence was lost in the feeble light.
It at once created a sort of confidence between them and the discourse was
continued on the part of the hunter without the lively consciousness of the
character of this coquette of the wilderness, with which it had certainly
commenced.
“You are a man of deeds
and not of words, I see plainly, Deerslayer,” continued the beauty, taking her
seat near the spot where the other stood, “and I foresee we shall be very good
friends. Hurry Harry has a tongue, and, giant as he is, he talks more than he
performs.”
“March is your fri’nd,
Judith; and fri’nds should be tender of each other, when apart.”
“We all know what Hurry’s
friendship comes to! Let him have his own way in every thing, and he’s the best
fellow in the Colony; but, ‘head him off,’ as you say of the deer, and he is
master of every thing near him, but himself. Hurry is no favourite of mine,
Deerslayer; and I dare say, if the truth was known, and his conversation about
me repeated, it would be found that he thinks no better of me, than I own I do
of him.”
The latter part of this
speech was not uttered without uneasiness. Had the girl’s companion been more
sophisticated, he might have observed the averted face, the manner in which the
pretty little foot was agitated, and other signs that, for some unexplained
reason, the opinions of March were not quite as much matter of indifference to
her as she thought fit to pretend. Whether this was no more than the ordinary
working of female vanity, feeling keenly even when it affected not to feel at
all, or whether it proceeded from that deeply-seated consciousness of right and
wrong, which God himself has implanted in our breasts that we may know good
from evil, will be made more apparent to the reader as we proceed in the tale.
Deerslayer felt embarrassed. He well remembered the cruel imputations left by
March’s distrust; and, while he did not wish to injure his associate’s suit by
exciting resentment against him, his tongue was one that literally knew no
guile. To answer without saying more or less than he wished, was consequently a
delicate duty.
“March has his say of
all things in natur’, whether of fri’nd or foe,” slowly and cautiously rejoined
the hunter. “He’s one of them that speak as they feel, while the tongue’s
a-going, and that’s sometimes different from what they’d speak if they took time
to consider. Give me a Delaware, Judith, for one that reflects and ruminates on
his idees! Inmity has made ’em thoughtful, and a loose tongue is no riccommend
at their council fires.”
“I dare say March’s
tongue goes free enough when it gets on the subject of Judith Hutter and her
sister,” said the girl, rousing hereself as if in careless disdain. “Young
women’s good names are a pleasant matter of discourse with some that wouldn’t
dare to be so open-mouthed, if there was a brother in the way. Master March may
find it pleasant to traduce us, but, sooner or later, he’ll repent!”
“Nay, Judith, this is
taking the matter up too much in ’arnest. Hurry has never whispered a syllable
ag’in the good name of Hetty, to begin with--”
“I see how it is--I see
how it is”--impetuously interrupted Judith. “I am the one he sees fit to scorch
with his withering tongue!--Hetty, indeed!--Poor Hetty!”--she continued, her
voice sinking into low husky tones, that seemed nearly to stifle her in the
utterance--“she is beyond and above his slanderous malice! Poor Hetty! If God
has created her feeble-minded, the weakness lies altogether on the side of
errors of which she seems to know nothing. The earth never held a purer being
than Hetty Hutter, Deerslayer.”
“I can believe it--yes,
I can believe that, Judith, and I hope ’arnestly that the same can be said of
her handsome sister.”
There was a soothing
sincerity in the voice of Deerslayer, which touched the girl’s feelings; nor
did the allusion to her beauty lessen the effect with one who only knew too
well the power of her personal charms. Nevertheless, the still, small voice of
conscience was not hushed, and it prompted the answer which she made, after
giving herself time to reflect.
“I dare say Hurry had
some of his vile hints about the people of the garrisons,” she added. “He knows
they are gentlemen, and can never forgive any one for being what he feels he
can never become himself.”
“Not in the sense of a
king’s officer, Judith, sartainly, for March has no turn that-a-way; but in the
sense of reality, why may not a beaver-hunter be as respectable as a governor.
Since you speak of it, yourself, I’ll not deny that he did complain of one as
humble as you, being so much in the company of scarlet coats and silken sashes.
But ’t was jealousy that brought it out of him, and I do think that he mourned
over his own thoughts, as a mother would have mourned over her child.”
Perhaps Deerslayer was
not aware of the full meaning that his earnest language conveyed. It is certain
that he did not see the colour that crimsoned the whole of Judith’s fine face,
nor detect the uncontrollable distress that, immediately after, changed its hue
to a deadly paleness. A minute or two elapsed in profound stillness, the splash
of the water seeming to occupy all the avenues of sound; and then Judith arose,
and grasped the hand of the hunter, almost convulsively, with one of her own.
“Deerslayer,” she said,
hurriedly, “I’m glad the ice is broke between us. They say that sudden
friendships lead to long enmities, but I do not believe it will turn out so
with us. I know not how it is--but, you are the first man I ever met, who did
not seem to wish to flatter--to wish my ruin --to be an enemy in
disguise--never mind; say nothing to Hurry, and another time we’ll talk
together again.”
As the girl released
her grasp, she vanished in the house, leaving the astonished young man standing
at the steeringoar, as motionless as one of the pines on the hills. So
abstracted indeed had his thoughts become, that he was hailed by Hutter to keep
the scow’s head in the right direction, before he remembered his actual
situation.
“So spake the apostate
Angel, though in pain,
Vaunting aloud, but
racked with deep despair!”
Milton. Shortly after
the disappearance of Judith, a light southerly air arose, and Hutter set a
large square-sail, that had once been the flying top-sail of an Albany sloop,
but which, having become threadbare in catching the breezes of Tappan, had been
condemned and sold. He had a light tough spar of tamarack that he could raise
on occasion, and with a little contrivance, his duck was spread to the wind in
a sufficiently professional manner. The effect on the ark was such as to
supersede the necessity of rowing; and, in about two hours, the castle was
seen, in the darkness, rising out of the water, at the distance of a hundred
yards. The sail was then lowered, and by slow degrees the scow drifted up to
the building, and was secured.
No one had visited the
house since Hurry and his companion left it. The place was found in the quiet
of mid-night, a sort of type of the solitude of a wilderness. As an enemy was
known to be near, Hutter directed his daughters to abstain from the use of
lights, luxuries in which they seldom indulged during the warm months, lest
they might prove beacons to direct their foes where they might be found.
“In open day-light, I
shouldn’t fear a host of savages, behind these stout logs, and they without any
cover to skulk into,” added Hutter, when he had explained to his guests the
reasons why he forbade the use of lights; “for I’ve three or four trusty
weapons always loaded, and Killdeer, in particular, is a piece that never
misses. But it’s a different thing at night. A canoe might get upon us unseen
in the dark; and the savages have so many cunning ways of attacking, that I
look upon it as bad enough to deal with ’em under a bright sun. I built this
dwelling in order to have ’em at arm’s length, in case we should ever get to
blows again. Some people think it’s too open and exposed, but I’m for anchoring
out here, clear of underbrush and thickets, as the surest means of making a
safe berth.”
“You was once a sailor,
they tell me, old Tom?” said Hurry, in his abrupt manner, struck by one or two
expressions that the other had just used; “and some people believe you could
give us strange accounts of inimies and shipwrecks, if you’d a mind to come out
with all you know?”
“There are people in
this world, Hurry,” returned the other evasively, “who live on other men’s
thoughts; and some such often find their way into the woods. What I’ve been, or
what I’ve seen in youth, is of less matter, now, than what the savages are. It’s
of more account to find out what will happen in the next twenty-four hours than
to talk over what happened twenty-four years since.”
“That’s judgment,
Deerslayer; yes, that’s sound judgment. Here’s Judith and Hetty to take care
of, to say nothing of our own top-knots; and, for my part, I can sleep as well
in the dark, as I could under a noon-day sun. To me it’s no great matter
whether there is light, or not, to see to shut my eyes by.”
As Deerslayer seldom
thought it necessary to answer his companion’s peculiar vein of humour, and
Hutter was evidently indisposed to dwell longer on the subject, its discussion
ceased with this remark. The latter had something more on his mind, however,
than recollections. His daughters had no sooner left them, with an expressed
intention of going to bed, than he invited his two companions to follow him
again into the scow. Here the old man opened his project, keeping back the
portion that he had reserved for execution by Hurry and himself.
“The great object for
people, posted like ourselves, is to command the water,” he commenced. “So long
as there is no other craft on the lake, a bark canoe is as good as a
man-of-war, since the castle will not be easily taken by swimming. Now, there
are but five canoes remaining in these parts, two of which are mine, and one is
Hurry’s. These three we have with us, here; one being fastened in the canoe-dock
beneath the house, and the other two being alongside the scow. The other canoes
are housed on the shore, in hollow logs; and the savages, who are such venomous
enemies, will leave no likely place unexamined, in the morning, if they’re
serious in s’arch of bounties--”
“Now, friend Hutter,”
interrupted Hurry, “the Indian don’t live that can find a canoe that is
suitably wintered. I’ve done something at this business before now, and
Deerslayer, here, knows that I am one that can hide a craft in such a way that
I can’t find it myself.”
“Very true, Hurry,” put
in the person to whom the appeal had been made, “but you overlook the
sarcumstance that if you couldn’t see the trail of the man who did the job, I
could. I’m of Master Hutter’s mind, that it’s far wiser to mistrust a savage’s
ingenuity, than to build any great expectations on his want of eye-sight. If
these two canoes can be got off to the castle, therefore, the sooner it’s done
the better.”
“Will you be of the
party that’s to do it?” demanded Hutter, in a way to show that the proposal
both surprised and pleased him.
“Sartain. I’m ready to
enlist in any enterprise that’s not ag’in a white man’s lawful gifts. Natur’
orders us to defend our lives, and the lives of others, too, when there’s
occasion and opportunity. I’ll follow you, Floating Tom, into the Mingo camp,
on such an ar’r’n’d, and will strive to do my duty, should we come to blows;
though, never having been tried in battle, I don’t like to promise more than I
may be able to perform. We all know our wishes, but none know their might, till
put to the proof.”
“That’s modest and
suitable, lad,” exclaimed Hurry. “You’ve never yet heard the crack of an angry
rifle; and, let me tell you, ’t is as different from the persuasion of one of
your venison speeches, as the laugh of Judith Hutter, in her best humour, is
from the scolding of a Dutch house-keeper on the Mohawk. I don’t expect you’ll
prove much of a warrior, Deerslayer, though your equal with the bucks and the
does, don’t exist in all these parts. As for the ra’al sarvice, however, you’ll
turn out rather rearward, according to my consait.”
“We’ll see, Hurry, we’ll
see,” returned the other meekly; so far as human eye could discover, not at all
disturbed by these expressed doubts concerning his conduct on a point on which
men are sensitive, precisely in the degree that they feel the consciousness of
demerit; “having never been tried, I’ll wait to know, before I form any opinion
myself; and then there’ll be sartainty, instead of bragging. I’ve heard of them
that was valiant, afore the fight, who did little in it; and of them that
waited to know their own tempers, and found that they weren’t as bad as some
expected, when put to the proof.”
“At any rate, we know
you can use a paddle, young man,” said Hutter, “and that’s all we shall ask of
you, tonight. Let us waste no more time, but get into the canoe, and do, in
place of talking.”
As Hutter led the way,
in the execution of his project, the boat was soon ready, with Hurry and
Deerslayer at the paddles. Before the old man embarked, himself, however, he
held a conference of several minutes with Judith, entering the house for that
purpose; then, returning, he took his place in the canoe, which left the side
of the ark at the next instant.
Had there been a temple
reared to God, in that solitary wilderness, its clock would have told the hour
of midnight as the party set forth on their expedition. The darkness had
increased, though the night was still clear, and the light of the stars
sufficed for all the purposes of the adventurers. Hutter alone knew the places
where the two canoes were hid, and he directed the course, while his two
athletic companions raised and dipped their paddles with proper caution, lest
the sounds should be carried to the ears of their enemies, across that sheet of
placid water, in the stillness of deep night. But the bark was too light to
require any extraordinary efforts, and skill supplying the place of strength,
in about half an hour they were approaching the shore, at a point near a league
from the castle.
“Lay on your paddles,
men,” said Hutter, in a low voice, “and let us look about us for a moment. We
must now be all eyes and ears, for these vermin have noses like blood-hounds.”
The shores of the lake
were examined closely, in order to discover any glimmering of light that might
have been left in a camp; and the men strained their eyes, in the obscurity, to
see if some thread of smoke was not still stealing along the mountain-side, as
it arose from the dying embers of a fire. Nothing unusual could be traced; and
as the position was at some distance from the outlet, or the spot where the
savages had been met, it was thought safe to land. The paddles were plied
again, and the bows of the canoe ground upon the gravelly beach with a gentle
motion, and a sound barely audible. Hutter and Hurry immediately landed, the
former carrying his own and his friend’s rifle, leaving Deerslayer in charge of
the canoe. The hollow log lay a little distance up the side of the mountain,
and the old man led the way towards it, using so much caution as to stop at
every third or fourth step, to listen if any tread betrayed the presence of a
foe. The same death-like stillness, however, reigned on the midnight scene, and
the desired place was reached without an occurrence to induce alarm.
“This is it,” whispered
Hutter, laying a foot on the trunk of a fallen linden; “hand me the paddles
first, and draw the boat out with care, for the wretches may have left it for a
bait, after all.”
“Keep my rifle handy, butt
towards me, old fellow,” answered March. “If they attack me loaded, I shall
want to unload the piece at ’em, at least. And feel if the pan is full.”
“All’s right,” muttered
the other; “move slow, when you get your load, and let me lead the way.”
The canoe was drawn out
of the log with the utmost care, raised by Hurry to his shoulder, and the two
began to return to the shore, moving but a step at a time, lest they should
tumble down the steep declivity. The distance was not great, but the descent
was extremely difficult; and, towards the end of their little journey,
Deerslayer was obliged to land and meet them, in order to aid in lifting the
canoe through the bushes. With his assistance, the task was successfully
accomplished, and the light craft soon floated by the side of the other canoe.
This was no sooner done, than all three turned anxiously toward the forest and
the mountain, expecting an enemy to break out of the one, or to come rushing
down the other. Still the silence was unbroken, and they all embarked with the
caution that had been used in coming ashore.
Hutter now steered
broad off towards the centre of the lake. Having got a sufficient distance from
the shore, he cast his prize loose, knowing that it would drift slowly up the
lake, before the light southerly air, and intending to find it, on his return.
Thus relieved of his tow, the old man held his way down the lake, steering
towards the very point where Hurry had made his fruitless attempt on the life
of the deer. As the distance from this point to the outlet was less than a
mile, it was like entering an enemy’s country; and redoubled caution became
necessary. They reached the extremity of the point, however, and landed in
safety on the little gravelly beach already mentioned. Unlike the last place at
which they had gone ashore, here was no acclivity to ascend, the mountains
looming up in the darkness quite a quarter of a mile further west, leaving a
margin of level ground between them and the strand. The point itself, though
long, and covered with tall trees, was nearly flat, and, for some distance,
only a few yards in width. Hutter and Hurry landed, as before, leaving their
companion in charge of the boat.
In this instance, the
dead tree that contained the canoe of which they had come in quest, lay about
half-way between the extremity of the narrow slip of land, and the place where
it joined the main shore; and, knowing that there was water so near him on his
left, the old man led the way along the eastern side of the belt, with some
confidence, walking boldly, though still with caution. He had landed at the
point expressly to get a glimpse into the bay, and to make certain that the
coast was clear; otherwise he would have come ashore directly abreast of the
hollow tree. There was no difficulty in finding the latter, from which the
canoe was drawn, as before, and, instead of carrying it down to the place where
Deerslayer lay, it was launched at the nearest favourable spot. As soon as it
was in the water, Hurry entered it, and paddled round to the point, whither
Hutter also proceeded, following the beach. As the three men had now in their
possession all the boats on the lake, their confidence was greatly increased,
and there was no longer the same feverish desire to quit the shore, or the same
necessity for extreme caution. Their position on the extremity of the long,
narrow bit of land, added to the feeling of security, as it permitted an enemy
to approach in only one direction, that in their front, and under circumstances
that would render discovery, with their habitual vigilance, almost certain. The
three now landed together, and stood grouped in consultation on the gravelly
point.
“We’ve fairly tree’d
the scamps,” said Hurry, chuckling at their success; “if they wish to visit the
castle, let ’em wade or swim! Old Tom, that idee of your’n, in burrowing out in
the lake, was high proof, and carries a fine bead. There be men who would think
the land safer than the water; but, after all, reason shows it isn’t; the
beaver, and rats, and other l’arned creatur’s, taking to the last, when hard
pressed. I call our position, now, entrenched, and set the Canadas at defiance.”
“Let us paddle along
this south shore,” said Hutter, “and see if there’s no sign of an
encampment--but, first, let me have a better look into the bay, for no one has
been far enough round the inner shore of the point, to make sure of that
quarter, yet.”
As Hutter ceased
speaking, all three moved in the direction he had named. Scarce had they fairly
opened the bottom of the bay, when a general start proved that their eyes had
lighted on a common object at the same instant. It was no more than a dying
brand, giving out its flickering and failing light; but at that hour, and in
that place, it was at once as conspicuous as “a good deed in a naughty world.”
There was not a shadow of doubt that this fire had been kindled at an
encampment of the Indians. The situation, sheltered from observation on all
sides but one, and even on that, except for a very short distance, proved that
more care had been taken to conceal the spot, than would be used for ordinary
purposes, and Hutter, who knew that a spring was near at hand, as well as one
of the best fishing-stations on the lake, immediately inferred that this
encampment contained the women and children of the party.
“That’s not a warrior’s
encampment,” he growled to Hurry; “and there’s bounty enough sleeping round
that fire to make a heavy division of head-money. Send the lad to the canoes,
for there’ll come no good of him, in such an onset, and let us take the matter
in hand, at once, like men.”
“There’s judgment in
your notion, old Tom, and I like it to the back-bone. Deerslayer, do you get
into the canoe, lad, and paddle off into the lake, with the spare one, and set
it adrift, as we did with the other; after which, you can float along shore, as
near as you can get to the head of the bay, keeping outside the point,
howsever, and outside the rushes, too. You can hear us when we want you; and,
if there’s any delay, I’ll call like a loon--yes, that’ll do it--the call of a
loon shall be the signal. If you hear rifles, and feel like soldiering, why,
you may close in, and see if you can make the same hand with the savages that
you do with the deer.”
“If my wishes could be
followed, this matter would not be undertaken, Hurry--”
“Quite true--nobody
denies it, boy; but your wishes can’t be followed; and that inds the matter. So
just canoe yourself off into the middle of the lake, and by the time you get
back, there’ll be movements in that camp!”
The young man set about
complying with great reluctance and a heavy heart. He knew the prejudices of
the frontiermen too well, however, to attempt a remonstrance. The latter,
indeed, under the circumstances, might prove dangerous, as it would certainly
prove useless. He paddled the canoe, therefore, silently, and with the former
caution, to a spot near the centre of the placid sheet of water, and set the
boat just recovered adrift, to float towards the castle, before the light
southerly air. This expedient had been adopted, in both cases, under the
certainty that the drift could not carry the light barks more than a league or
two, before the return of light, when they might easily be overtaken. In order
to prevent any wandering savage from using them, by swimming off and getting
possession, a possible, but scarcely a probable event, all the paddles were
retained.
No sooner had he set
the recovered canoe adrift, than Deerslayer turned the bows of his own towards
the point on the shore that had been indicated by Hurry. So light was the
movement of the little craft, and so steady the sweep of its master’s arm, that
ten minutes had not elapsed ere it was again approaching the land, having, in
that brief time, passed over fully half a mile of distance. As soon as Deerslayer’s
eye caught a glimpse of the rushes, of which there were many growing in the
water a hundred feet from the shore, he arrested the motion of the canoe, and
anchored his boat by holding fast to the delicate, but tenacious stem of one of
the drooping plants. Here he remained, awaiting with an intensity of suspense
that can be easily imagined, the result of the hazardous enterprise.
It would be difficult
to convey to the minds of those who have never witnessed it, the sublimity that
characterizes the silence of a solitude as deep as that which now reigned over
the Glimmerglass. In the present instance, this sublimity was increased by the
gloom of night, which threw its shadowy and fantastic forms around the lake,
the forest, and the hills. It is not easy, indeed, to conceive of any place
more favourable to heighten these natural impressions, than that Deerslayer now
occupied. The size of the lake brought all within the reach of human senses,
while it displayed so much of the imposing scene at a single view, giving up,
as it might be, at a glance, a sufficiency to produce the deepest impressions.
As has been said, this was the first lake Deerslayer had ever seen. Hitherto,
his experience had been limited to the courses of rivers and smaller streams,
and never before had he seen so much of that wilderness which he so well loved,
spread before his gaze. Accustomed to the forest, however, his mind was capable
of portraying all its hidden mysteries, as he looked upon its leafy surface.
This was also the first time he had been on a trail where human lives depended
on the issue. His ears had often drunk in the traditions of frontier warfare,
but he had never yet been confronted with an enemy.
The reader will readily
understand, therefore, how intense must have been the expectation of the young
man, as he sat in his solitary canoe, endeavouring to catch the smallest sound
that might denote the course of things on shore. His training had been perfect,
so far as theory could go, and his self-possession, notwithstanding the high
excitement, that was the fruit of novelty, would have done credit to a veteran.
The visible evidences of the existence of the camp, or of the fire, could not
be detected from the spot where the canoe lay, and he was compelled to depend
on the sense of hearing alone. He did not feel impatient, for the lessons he
had heard taught him the virtue of patience, and, most of all, inculcated the
necessity of wariness, in conducting any covert assault on the Indians. Once he
thought he heard the cracking of a dried twig, but expectation was so intense
it might mislead him. In this manner minute after minute passed, until the
whole time since he left his companions was extended to quite an hour.
Deerslayer knew not whether to rejoice in, or to mourn over this cautious
delay, for, if it augured security to his associates, it foretold destruction
to the feeble and innocent.
It might have been an
hour and a half after his companions and he had parted, when Deerslayer was
aroused by a sound that filled him equally with concern and surprise. The
quavering call of a loon arose from the opposite side of the lake, evidently at
no great distance from its outlet. There was no mistaking the note of this
bird, which is so familiar to all who know the sounds of the American lakes.
Shrill, tremulous, loud, and sufficiently prolonged, it seems the very cry of
warning. It is often raised, also, at night-- an exception to the habits of
most of the other feathered inmates of the wilderness; a circumstance which had
induced Hurry to select it as his own signal. There had been sufficient time,
certainly, for the two adventurers to make their way by land, from the point
where they had been left to that whence the call had come, but it was not
probable that they would adopt such a course. Had the camp been deserted, they
would have summoned Deerslayer to the shore, and, did it prove to be peopled,
there could be no sufficient motive for circling it, in order to re-embark at
so great a distance. Should he obey the signal, and be drawn away from the
landing, the lives of those who depended on him might be the forfeit--and,
should he neglect the call, on the supposition that it had been really made,
the consequences might be equally disastrous, though from a different cause. In
this indecision he waited, trusting that the call, whether feigned or natural,
would be speedily renewed. Nor was he mistaken. A very few minutes elapsed
before the same shrill, warning cry was repeated, and from the same part of the
lake. This time, being on the alert, his senses were not deceived. Although he
had often heard admirable imitations of this bird, and was no mean adept,
himself, in raising its notes, he felt satisfied that Hurry, to whose efforts
in that way he had attended, could never so completely and closely follow
nature. He determined, therefore, to disregard that cry, and to wait for one
less perfect, and nearer at hand.
Deerslayer had hardly
come to this determination, wher the profound stillness of night and solitude
was broken by a cry so startling, as to drive all recollection of the more
melancholy call of the loon, from the listener’s mind. It was a shriek of
agony, that came either from one of the female sex, or from a boy so young as
not yet to have attained a manly voice. This appeal could not be mistaken.
Heartrending terror--if not writhing agony--was in the sounds, and the anguish
that had awakened them was as sudden as it was fearful. The young man released
his hold of the rush, and dashed his paddle into the water; to do, he knew not
what--to steer, he knew not whither. A very few moments, however, removed his
indecision. The breaking of branches, the cracking of dried sticks, and the
fall of feet, were all distinctly audible; the sounds appearing to approach the
water, though in a direction that led diagonally towards the shore, and a
little farther north than the spot that Deerslayer had been ordered to keep
near. Following this clue, the young man urged the canoe ahead, paying but
little attention to the manner in which he might betray its presence. He had
reached a part of the shore, where its immediate bank was tolerably high and
quite steep. Men were evidently threshing through the bushes and trees on the
summit of this bank, following the line of the shore, as if those who fled sought
a favourable place for descending. Just at this instant, five or six rifles
flashed, and the opposite hills gave back, as usual, the sharp reports in
prolonged, rolling echoes. One or two shrieks, like those which escape the
bravest when suddenly overcome by unexpected anguish and alarm, followed; and
then the threshing among the bushes was renewed, in a way to show that man was
grappling with man.
“Slippery devil!”
shouted Hurry, with the fury of disappointment--“his skin’s greased! I shan’t
grapple!--Take that for your cunning!”
The words were followed
by the fall of some heavy object among the smaller trees that fringed the bank,
appearing to Deerslayer as if his gigantic associate had hurled an enemy from
him, in this unceremonious manner. Again the flight and pursuit were renewed,
and then the young man saw a human form break down the hill, and rush several
yards into the water. At this critical moment the canoe was just near enough to
the spot to allow this movement, which was accompanied by no little noise, to
be seen; and feeling that there he must take in his companions, if anywhere,
Deerslayer urged the canoe forward, to the rescue. His paddle had not been
raised twice, when the voice of Hurry was heard filling the air with
imprecations, and he rolled on the narrow beach, literally loaded down with
enemies. While prostrate, and almost smothered with his foes, the athletic
frontier-man gave his loon-call, in a manner that would have excited laughter
under circumstances less terrific. The figure in the water seemed suddenly to
repent his own flight, and rushed to the shore to aid his companion, but was
met and immediately overpowered by half a dozen fresh pursuers, who, just then,
came leaping down the bank.
“Let up, you painted
riptyles--let up!” cried Hurry, too hard pressed to be particular about the
terms he used; “isn’t it enough that I’m withed like a saw-log, that ye must
choke, too?”
This speech satisfied
Deerslayer that his friends were prisoners, and that to land would be to share
their fate. He was already within a hundred feet of the shore, when a few
timely strokes of the paddle not only arrested his advance, but forced him off
to six or eight times that distance from his enemies. Luckily for him, all of
the Indians had dropped their rifles in the pursuit, or this retreat might not
have been effected with impunity; though no one had noted the canoe in the
first confusion of the mêlée.
“Keep off the land,
lad,” called out Hutter; “the girls depend only on you, now: you will want all
your caution to escape these savages. Keep off, and God prosper you, as you aid
my children!”
There was little
sympathy, in general, between Hutter and the young man, but the bodily and
mental anguish with which this appeal was made, served at the moment to conceal
from the latter the former’s faults. He saw only the father in his sufferings,
and resolved at once to give a pledge of fidelity to his interests, and to be
faithful to his word.
“Put your heart at
ease, Master Hutter,” he called out; “the gals shall be looked to, as well as
the castle. The inimy has got the shore, ’t is no use to deny, but he hasn’t
got the water. Providence has the charge of all, and no one can say what will
come of it; but, if good-will can sarve you and your’n, depend on that much. My
exper’ence is small, but my will is good.”
“Ay--ay, Deerslayer,”
returned Hurry, in his stentorian voice, which was losing some of its
heartiness, notwithstanding--“Ay, ay, Deerslayer, you mean well enough, but
what can you do? You’re no great matter in the best of times, and such a person
is not likely to turn out a miracle in the worst. If there’s one savage on this
lake shore, there’s forty, and that’s an army you ar’n’t the man to overcome.
The best way, in my judgment, will be to make a straight course to the castle;
get the gals into the canoe, with a few eatables; then strike off for the
corner of the lake where we came in, and take the best trial for the Mohawk.
These devils won’t know where to look for you for some hours, and if they did,
and went off hot in the pursuit, they must turn either the foot, or the head of
the lake, to get at you. That’s my judgment in the matter; and if old Tom,
here, wishes to make his last will and testament in a manner favourable to his
darters, he’ll say the same.”
“’T will never do,
young man,” rejoined Hutter. “The enemy has scouts out at this moment, looking
for canoes, and you’ll be seen and taken. Trust to the castle; and, above all
things, keep clear of the land. Hold out a week, and parties from the garrisons
will drive the savages off.”
“’T won’t be
four-and-twenty hours, old fellow, afore these foxes will be rafting off, to
storm your castle,” interrupted Hurry, with more of the heat of argument than
might be expected from a man who was bound and a captive, and about whom
nothing could be called free but his opinions and his tongue. “Your advice has
a stout sound, but it will have a fatal tarmination. If you or I was in the
house, we might hold out a few days, but remember that this lad has never seen
an inimy afore to-night, and is what you yourself called
settlement-conscienced; though, for my part, I think the consciences in the
settlements pretty much the same as they are out here in the woods. These
savages are making signs, Deerslayer, for me to encourage you to come ashore
with the canoe; but that I’ll never do, as it’s ag’in reason and natur’. As for
old Tom and myself, whether they’ll scalp us to-night, keep us for the torture
by fire, or carry us to Canada, is more than any one knows, but the devil that
advises them how to act. I’ve such a big and bushy head, that it’s quite likely
they’ll indivor to get two scalps off it, for the bounty is a tempting thing,
or old Tom and I wouldn’t be in this scrape. Ay--there they go with their signs
ag’in, but if I advise you to land, may they eat me as well as roast me. No,
no, Deerslayer --do you keep off where you are, and after day-light, on no
account come within two hundred yards--”
This injunction of
Hurry’s was stopped by a hand being rudely slapped against his mouth, the
certain sign that some one in the party sufficiently understood English to have
at length detected the drift of his discourse. Immediately after, the whole
group entered the forest, Hutter and Hurry apparently making no resistance to
the movement. Just as the sounds of the cracking bushes were ceasing, however,
the voice of the father was again heard.
“As you’re true to my
children, God prosper you, young man!” were the words that reached Deerslayer’s
ears; after which he found himself left to follow the dictates of his own
discretion.
Several minutes
elapsed, in death-like stillness, when the party on the shore had disappeared
in the woods. Owing to the distance, rather more than two hundred yards, and
the obscurity, Deerslayer had been able barely to distinguish the group, and to
see it retiring; but even this dim connection with human forms, gave an
animation to the scene that was strongly in contrast to the absolute solitude
that remained. Although the young man leaned forward to listen, holding his
breath and condensing every faculty in the single sense of hearing, not another
sound reached his ears to denote the vicinity of human beings. It seemed as if
a silence that had never been broken, reigned on the spot again; and, for an
instant, even that piercing shriek which had so lately broken the stillness of
the forest, or the execrations of March, would have been a relief to the
feeling of desertion to which it gave rise.
This paralysis of mind
and body, however, could not last long in one constituted mentally and
physically like Deerslayer. Dropping his paddle into the water, he turned the
head of the canoe, and proceeded slowly, as one walks who thinks intently,
towards the centre of the lake. When he believed himself to have reached a
point in a line with that where he had set the last canoe adrift, he changed
his direction northward, keeping the light air as nearly on his back as
possible. After paddling a quarter of a mile in this direction, a dark object
became visible on the lake, a little to the right; and turning on one side for
the purpose, he had soon secured his lost prize to his own boat. Deerslayer now
examined the heavens, the course of the air, and the position of the two
canoes. Finding nothing in either to induce a change of plan, he lay down and
prepared to catch a few hours’ sleep, that the morrow might find him equal to
its exigencies.
Although the hardy and
the tired sleep profoundly, even in scenes of danger, it was some time before
Deerslayer lost his recollection. His mind dwelt on what had passed, and his
half-conscious faculties kept figuring the events of the night, in a sort of
waking dream. Suddenly he was up and alert, for he fancied he heard the
preconcerted signal of Hurry, summoning him to the shore. But all was still as
the grave, again. The canoes were slowly drifting northward, the thoughtful
stars were glimmering in their mild glory over his head, and the forest-bound
sheet of water lay embedded between its mountains, as calm and melancholy as if
never troubled by the winds, or brightened by a noon-day sun. Once more the
loon raised his tremulous cry, near the foot of the lake, and the mystery of
the alarm was explained. Deerslayer adjusted his hard pillow, stretched his
form in the bottom of the canoe, and slept.
“Clear, placid Leman! Thy contrasted lake With the wild world I dwelt
in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake Earth’s troubled
waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me
from distraction: once I loved Torn ocean’s roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds
sweet as if a sister’s voice reproved, That
I with stern delights should e’er have been so moved.”
Byron Day had fairly dawned, before the
young man, whom we have left in the situation described in the last chapter,
again opened his eyes. This was no sooner done, than he started up, and looked
about him with the eagerness of one who suddenly felt the importance of
accurately ascertaining his precise position. His rest had been deep and
undisturbed; and when he awoke, it was with a clearness of intellect, and a
readiness of resources that were much needed at that particular moment. The sun
had not risen, it is true, but the vault of heaven was rich with the winning
softness that ‘brings and shuts the day,’ while the whole air was filled with
the carols of birds, the hymns of the feathered tribe. These sounds first told
Deerslayer the risks he ran. The air, for wind it could scarce be called, was
still light, it is true, but it had increased a little in the course of the
night, and as the canoes were mere feathers on the water, they had drifted
twice the expected distance; and, what was still more dangerous, had approached
so near the base of the mountain that here rose precipitously from the eastern
shore, as to render the carols of the birds plainly audible. This was not the
worst. The third canoe had taken the same direction, and was slowly drifting
towards a point where it must inevitably touch, unless turned aside by a shift
of wind, or human hands. In other respects, nothing presented itself to attract
attention, or to awaken alarm. The castle stood on its shoal, nearly abreast of
the canoes, for the drifts had amounted to miles in the course of the night,
and the ark lay fastened to its piles, as both had been left so many hours
before.
As a matter of course,
Deerslayer’s attention was first given to the canoe ahead. It was already quite
near the point, and a very few strokes of the paddle sufficed to tell him that
it must touch before he could possibly overtake it. Just at this moment, too,
the wind inopportunely freshened, rendering the drift of the light craft much
more rapid and certain. Feeling the impossibility of preventing a contact with
the land, the young man wisely determined not to heat himself with unnecessary
exertions; but, first looking to the priming of his piece, he proceeded slowly
and warily towards the point, taking care to make a little circuit, that he
might be exposed on only one side, as he approached.
The canoe adrift, being
directed by no such intelligence, pursued its proper way, and grounded on a
small sunken rock, at the distance of three or four yards from the shore. Just
at that moment, Deerslayer had got abreast of the point, and turned the bows of
his own boat to the land; first casting loose his tow, that his movements might
be unencumbered. The canoe hung an instant on the rock; then it rose a hair’s-breadth
on an almost imperceptible swell of the water, swung round, floated clear, and
reached the strand. All this the young man noted, but it neither quickened his
pulses, nor hastened his hand. If any one had been lying in wait for the
arrival of the waif, he must be seen, and the utmost caution in approaching the
shore became indispensable; if no one was in ambush, hurry was unnecessary. The
point being nearly diagonally opposite to the Indian encampment, he hoped the
last, though the former was not only possible, but probable; for the savages
were prompt in adopting all the expedients of their particular modes of
warfare, and quite likely had many scouts searching the shores for craft to
carry them off to the castle. As a glance at the lake from any height or
projection, would expose the smallest object on its surface, there was little
hope that either of the canoes could pass unseen; and Indian sagacity needed no
instruction to tell which way a boat or a log would drift, when the direction
of the wind was known. As Deerslayer drew nearer and nearer to the land, the
stroke of his paddle grew slower, his eye became more watchful, and his ears
and nostrils almost dilated with the effort to detect any lurking danger. ’T
was a trying moment for a novice, nor was there the encouragement which even
the timid sometimes feel, when conscious of being observed and commended. He
was entirely alone, thrown on his own resources, and was cheered by no friendly
eye, emboldened by no encouraging voice. Notwithstanding all these
circumstances, the most experienced veteran in forest warfare could not have
conducted better. Equally free from recklessness and hesitation, his advance
was marked by a sort of philosophical prudence, that appeared to render him
superior to all motives but those which were best calculated to effect his
purpose. Such was the commencement of a career in forest exploits, that
afterwards rendered this man, in his way, and under the limits of his habits
and opportunities, as renowned as many a hero whose name has adorned the pages
of works more celebrated than legends simple as ours can ever become.
When about a hundred
yards from the shore, Deerslayer rose in the canoe, gave three or four vigorous
strokes with the paddle, sufficient of themselves to impel the bark to land,
and then quickly laying aside the instrument of labour, he seized that of war.
He was in the very act of raising the rifle, when a sharp report was followed
by the buzz of a bullet that passed so near his body, as to cause him
involuntarily to start. The next instant Deerslayer staggered, and fell his
whole length in the bottom of the canoe. A yell-- it came from a single
voice--followed, and an Indian leaped from the bushes upon the open area of the
point, bounding towards the canoe. This was the moment the young man desired.
He rose on the instant, and levelled his own rifle at his uncovered foe; but
his finger hesitated about pulling the trigger on one whom he held at such a
disadvantage. This little delay, probably, saved the life of the Indian, who
bounded back into the cover as swiftly as he had broken out of it. In the
meantime Deerslayer had been swiftly approaching the land, and his own canoe
reached the point just as his enemy disappeared. As its movements had not been
directed, it touched the shore a few yards from the other boat; and though the
rifle of his foe had to be loaded, there was not time to secure his prize, and
to carry it beyond danger, before he would be exposed to another shot. Under
the circumstances, therefore, he did not pause an instant, but dashed into the
woods and sought a cover.
On the immediate point
there was a small open area, partly in native grass, and partly beach, but a
dense fringe of bushes lined its upper side. This narrow belt of dwarf
vegetation passed, one issued immediately into the high and gloomy vaults of
the forest. The land was tolerably level for a few hundred feet, and then it
rose precipitously in a mountain-side. The trees were tall, large, and so free
from under-brush, that they resembled vast columns, irregularly scattered,
upholding a dome of leaves. Although they stood tolerably close together, for
their ages and size, the eye could penetrate to considerable distances; and
bodies of men, even, might have engaged beneath their cover, with concert and
intelligence.
Deerslayer knew that
his adversary must be employed in re-loading, unless he had fled. The former
proved to be the case, for the young man had no sooner placed himself behind a
tree, than he caught a glimpse of the arm of the Indian, his body being
concealed by an oak, in the very act of forcing the leathered bullet home.
Nothing would have been easier than to spring forward, and decide the affair by
a close assault on his unprepared foe; but every feeling of Deerslayer revolted
at such a step, although his own life had just been attempted from a cover. He
was yet unpractised in the ruthless expedients of savage warfare, of which he
knew nothing except by tradition and theory, and it struck him as an unfair
advantage to assail an unarmed foe. His colour had heightened, his eye frowned,
his lips were compressed, and all his energies were collected and ready; but,
instead of advancing to fire, he dropped his rifle to the usual position of a
sportsman in readiness to catch his aim, and muttered to himself, unconscious
that he was speaking--
“No, no--that may be
red-skin warfare, but it’s not a Christian’s gifts. Let the miscreant charge,
and then we’ll take it out like men; for the canoe he must not, and shall not
have. No, no; let him have time to load, and God will take care of the right!”
All this time the Indian
had been so intent on his own movements, that he was even ignorant that his
enemy was in the wood. His only apprehension was, that the canoe would be
recovered and carried away, before he might be in readiness to prevent it. He
had sought the cover from habit, but was within a few feet of the fringe of
bushes, and could be at the margin of the forest, in readiness to fire, in a
moment. The distance between him and his enemy was about fifty yards, and the
trees were so arranged by nature that the line of sight was not interrupted,
except by the particular trees behind which each party stood.
His rifle was no sooner
loaded, than the savage glanced around him, and advanced incautiously as
regarded the real, but stealthily as respected the fancied position of his
enemy, until he was fairly exposed. Then Deerslayer stepped from behind his own
cover, and hailed him.
“This-a-way, red-skin;
this-a-way, if you’re looking for me,” he called out. “I’m young in war, but
not so young as to stand on an open beach to be shot down like an owl, by
day-light. It rests on yourself whether it’s peace, or war, atween us; for my
gifts are white gifts, and I’m not one of them that thinks it valiant to slay
human mortals, singly, in the woods.”
The savage was a good
deal startled by this sudden discovery of the danger he ran. He had a little
knowledge of English, however, and caught the drift of the other’s meaning. He
was also too well schooled to betray alarm, but, dropping the butt of his rifle
to the earth, with an air of confidence, he made a gesture of lofty courtesy.
All this was done with the ease and self-possession of one accustomed to
consider no man his superior. In the midst of this consummate acting, however,
the volcano that raged within caused his eyes to glare, and his nostrils to
dilate, like those of some wild beast that is suddenly prevented from taking
the fatal leap.
“Two canoe,” he said,
in the deep guttural tones of his race, holding up the number of fingers he
mentioned, by way of preventing mistakes; “one for you--one for me.”
“No, no, Mingo, that
will never do. You own neither; and neither shall you have, as long as I can
prevent it. I know it’s war atween your people and mine, but that’s no reason
why human mortals should slay each other, like savage creatur’s that meet in
the woods; go your way, then, and leave me to go mine. The world is large
enough for us both; and when we meet fairly in battle, why, the Lord will order
the fate of each of us.”
“Good!” exclaimed the
Indian; “my brother missionary --great talk; all about Manitou.”
“Not so--not so,
warrior. I’m not good enough for the Moravians, and am too good for most of the
other vagabonds that preach about in the woods. No, no, I’m only a hunter, as
yet, though afore the peace is made, ’t is like enough there’ll be occasion to
strike a blow at some of your people. Still, I wish it to be done in fair
fight, and not in a quarrel about the ownership of a miserable canoe.”
“Good! My brother very
young -- but he very wise. Little warrior--great talker. Chief, sometimes, in
council.”
“I don’t know this, nor
do I say it, Indian,” returned Deerslayer, colouring a little at the
ill-concealed sarcasm of the other’s manner; “I look forward to a life in the
woods, and I only hope it may be a peaceable one. All young men must go on the
war-path, when there’s occasion, but war isn’t needfully massacre. I’ve seen
enough of the last, this very night, to know that Providence frowns on it; and
I now invite you to go your own way, while I go mine; and hope that we may part
fri’nds.”
“Good! My brother has
two scalp -- grey hair under t’other. Old wisdom--young tongue.”
Here the savage
advanced with confidence, his hand extended, his face smiling, and his whole
bearing denoting amity and respect. Deerslayer met his offered friendship in a
proper spirit, and they shook hands cordially, each endeavouring to assure the
other of his sincerity and desire to be at peace.
“All have his own,”
said the Indian; “my canoe, mine; your canoe, your’n. Go look; if your’n, you
keep; if mine, I keep.”
“That’s just, red-skin;
though you must be wrong in thinking the canoe your property. Howsever, seein’
is believin’, and we’ll go down to the shore, where you may look with your own
eyes; for it’s likely you’ll object to trustin’ altogether to mine.”
The Indian uttered his
favourite exclamation of “good!” and then they walked, side by side, towards
the shore. There was no apparent distrust in the manner of either, the Indian
moving in advance, as if he wished to show his companion that he did not fear
turning his back to him. As they reached the open ground, the former pointed
towards Deerslayer’s boat, and said emphatically--
“No mine--pale-face
canoe. This red-man’s. No want other man’s canoe--want his own.”
“You ’re wrong,
red-skin, you ’re altogether wrong. This canoe was left in old Hutter’s
keeping, and is his’n, according to all law, red or white, till its owner comes
to claim it. Here’s the seats and the stitching of the bark to speak for
themselves. No man ever know’d an Indian to turn off such work.”
“Good! My brother
little old--big wisdom. Indian no make him. White man’s work.”
“I’m glad you think so,
for holding out to the contrary might have made ill blood atween us; every one
having a right to take possession of his own. I’ll just shove the canoe out of
reach of dispute, at once, as the quickest way of settling difficulties.”
While Deerslayer was
speaking, he put a foot against the end of the light boat, and giving a
vigorous shove, he sent it out into the lake a hundred feet or more, where,
taking the true current, it would necessarily float past the point, and be in
no further danger of coming ashore. The savage started at this ready and
decided expedient, and his companion saw that he cast a hurried and fierce
glance at his own canoe, or that which contained the paddles. The change of
manner, however, was but momentary, and then the Iroquois resumed his air of
friendliness, and a smile of satisfaction.
“Good!” he repeated,
with stronger emphasis than ever. “Young head, old mind. Know how to settle
quarrel. Farewell, brother. He go to house in water--muskrat house--Indian go
to camp; tell chiefs no find canoe.”
Deerslayer was not
sorry to hear this proposal, for he felt anxious to join the females, and he
took the offered hand of the Indian very willingly. The parting words were
friendly; and, while the red-man walked calmly towards the wood, with the rifle
in the hollow of his arm, without once looking back in uneasiness or distrust,
the white man moved towards the remaining canoe, carrying his piece in the same
pacific manner, it is true, but keeping his eyes fastened on the movements of
the other. This distrust, however, seemed to be altogether uncalled for, and,
as if ashamed to have entertained it, the young man averted his look, and
stepped carelessly up to his boat. Here he began to push the canoe from the
shore, and to make his other preparations for departing. He might have been
thus employed a minute, when, happening to turn his face towards the land, his
quick and certain eye told him, at a glance, the imminent jeopardy in which his
life was placed. The black, ferocious eyes of the savage were glancing on him,
like those of the crouching tiger, through a small opening in the bushes, and
the muzzle of his rifle seemed already to be opening in a line with his own
body.
Then, indeed, the long
practice of Deerslayer, as a hunter, did him good service. Accustomed to fire
with the deer on the bound, and often when the precise position of the animal’s
body had in a manner to be guessed at, he used the same expedients here. To
cock and poise his rifle were the acts of a single moment, and a single motion;
then, aiming almost without sighting, he fired into the bushes where he knew a
body ought to be, in order to sustain the appalling countenance, which alone
was visible. There was not time to raise the piece any higher, or to take a
more deliberate aim. So rapid were his movements, that both parties discharged
their pieces at the same instant, the concussions mingling in one report. 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 had 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 melancholy satisfaction in relieving the
apprehensions of the helpless savage.
“No, no, red-skin,” he
said; “you ’ve nothing more to fear from me. I am of a Christian stock, and
scalping is not of my gifts. I’ll just make sartain of your rifle, and then
come back and do you what sarvice I can. Though here I can’t stay much longer,
as the crack of three rifles will be apt to bring some of your devils down upon
me.”
The close of this was
said in a sort of a soliloquy, as the young man went in quest of the fallen
rifle. The piece was found where its owner had dropped it, and was immediately
put into the canoe. Laying his own rifle at its side, Deerslayer then returned
and stood over the Indian again.
“All inmity atween you
and me’s at an ind, red-skin,” he said; “and you may set your heart at rest, on
the score of the scalp, or any further injury. My gifts are white, as I’ve told
you; and I hope my conduct will be white also!”
Could looks have
conveyed all they meant, it is probable Deerslayer’s innocent vanity, on the
subject of colour, would have been rebuked a little; but he comprehended the
gratitude that was expressed in the eyes of the dying savage, without in the
least detecting the bitter sarcasm that struggled with the better feeling.
“Water!” ejaculated the
thirsty and unfortunate creature; “give poor Indian water.”
“Ay, water you shall
have, if you drink the lake dry. I’ll just carry you down to it, that you may
take your fill. This is the way, they tell me, with all wounded people-- water
is their greatest comfort and delight.”
So saying, Deerslayer
raised the Indian in his arms, and carried him to the lake. Here he first
helped him to take an attitude in which he could appease his burning thirst;
after which he seated himself on a stone, and took the head of his wounded
adversary in his own lap, and endeavoured to soothe his anguish, in the best
manner he could.
“It would be sinful in
me to tell you your time hadn’t come, warrior,” he commenced, “and therefore I’ll
not say it. You ’ve passed the middle age, already, and, considerin’ the sort
of lives ye lead, your days have been pretty well filled. The principal thing,
now, is to look forward to what comes next. Neither red-skin nor pale-face, on
the whole, calculates much on sleepin’ for ever; but both expect to live in
another world. Each has his gifts, and will be judged by ’em, and, I suppose,
you ’ve thought these matters over enough, not to stand in need of sarmons,
when the trial comes. You’ll find your happy hunting-grounds, if you ’ve been a
just Indian; if an unjust, you’ll meet your desarts in another way. I ’ve my
own idees about these things; but you ’re too old and exper’enced to need any
explanations from one as young as I.”
“Good!” ejaculated the
Indian, whose voice retained its depth even as life ebbed away; “young
head--old wisdom!”
“It’s sometimes a
consolation, when the ind comes, to know that them we’ve harmed, or tried to
harm, forgive us. I suppose natur’ seeks this relief, by way of getting a
pardon on ’arth; as we never can know whether He pardons, who is all in all,
till judgment itself comes. It’s soothing to know that any pardon, at such
times; and that, I conclude, is the secret. Now, as for myself, I overlook
altogether your designs ag’in my life; first, because no harm came of ’em;
next, because it’s your gifts, and natur’, and trainin’, and I ought not to
have trusted you at all; and, finally and chiefly, because I can bear no
ill-will to a dying man, whether heathen or Christian. So put your heart at
ease, so far as I’m consarned; you know best what other matters ought to
trouble you, or what ought to give you satisfaction, in so trying a moment.”
It is probable that the
Indian had some of the fearful glimpses of the unknown state of being which
God, in mercy, seems, at times, to afford to all the human race; but they were
necessarily in conformity with his habits and prejudices. Like most of his
people, and like too many of our own, he thought more of dying in a way to gain
applause among those he left, than to secure a better state of existence,
hereafter. While Deerslayer was speaking, his mind was a little bewildered,
though he felt that the intention was good; and when he had done, a regret
passed over his spirit that none of his own tribe were present to witness his
stoicism, under extreme bodily suffering, and the firmness with which he met
his end. With the high, innate courtesy that so often distinguishes the Indian
warrior, before he becomes corrupted by too much intercourse with the worst
class of the white men, he endeavoured to express his thankfulness for the
other’s good intentions, and to let him understand that they were appreciated.
“Good!” he repeated,
for this was an English word much used by the savages--“good--young head; young
heart, too. Old heart tough; no shed tear. Hear Indian when he die, and no want
to lie--what he call him?”
“Deerslayer is the name
I bear now, though the Delawares have said that when I get back from this
war-path, I shall have a more manly title, provided I can ’arn one.”
“That good name for
boy--poor name for warrior. He get better quick. No fear there”--the savage had
strength sufficient, under the strong excitement he felt, to raise a hand and
tap the young man on his breast--“eye sartain --finger lightening--aim,
death--great warrior, soon. No Deerslayer--Hawkeye--Hawkeye--Hawkeye. Shake
hand.”
Deerslayer--or Hawkeye,
as the youth was then first named, for in after years he bore the appellation
throughout all that region--Deerslayer took the hand of the savage, whose last
breath was drawn in that attitude, gazing in admiration at the countenance of a
stranger, who had shown so much readiness, skill and firmness, in a scene that
was equally trying and novel. When the reader remembers it is the highest
gratification an Indian can receive to see his enemy betray weakness, he will
be better able to appreciate the conduct which had extorted so great a
concession, at such a moment.
“His spirit has fled!”
said Deerslayer, in a suppressed, melancholy voice. “Ah’s me!--Well, to this we
must all come, sooner or later; and he is happiest, let his skin be of what
colour it may, who is best fitted to meet it. Here lies the body of, no doubt,
a brave warrior, and the soul is already flying towards its heaven, or hell,
whether that be a happy hunting-ground, a place scant of game; regions of
glory, according to Moravian doctrine, or flames of fire! So it happens, too,
as regards other matters! Here have old Hutter and Hurry Harry got themselves
into difficulty, if they havn’t got themselves into torment and death, and all
for a bounty that luck offers to me in what many would think a lawful and
suitable manner. But not a farthing of such money shall cross my hand. White I
was born, and white will I die; clinging to colour to the last, even though the
King’s Majesty, his governors, and all his councils, both at home and in the
Colonies, forget from what they come, and where they hope to go, and all for a
little advantage in warfare. No, no--warrior; hand of mine shall never molest
your scalp, and so your soul may rest in peace on the p’int of making a decent
appearance, when the body comes to join it, in your own land of spirits.”
Deerslayer arose as
soon as he had spoken. Then he placed the body of the dead man in a sitting
posture, with its back against the little rock, taking the necessary care to
prevent it from falling, or in any way settling into an attitude that might be
thought unseemly by the sensitive, though wild notions of a savage. When this
duty was performed, the young man stood gazing at the grim countenance of his
fallen foe, in a sort of melancholy abstraction. As was his practice, however,
a habit gained by living so much alone in the forest, he then began again to
give utterance to his thoughts and feelings aloud.
“I didn’t wish your
life, red-skin,” he said, “but you left me no choice atween killing, or being
killed. Each party acted according to his gifts, I suppose, and blame can light
on neither. You were treacherous, according to your natur’ in war, and I was a
little oversightful, as I’m apt to be in trusting others. Well, this is my
first battle with a human mortal, though it’s not likely to be the last. I have
fou’t most of the creatur’s of the forest, such as bears, wolves, painters and
catamounts, but this is the beginning with the red-skins. If I was Indian born,
now, I might tell of this, or carry in the scalp, and boast of the expl’ite
afore the whole tribe; or, if my inimy had only been even a bear, ’t would have
been nat’ral and proper to let every body know what had happened; but I don’t
well see how I’m to let even Chingachgook into this secret, so long as it can
be done only by boasting with a white tongue. And why should I wish to boast of
it, after all? It’s slaying a human, although he was a savage; and how do I
know that he was a just Indian; and that he has not been taken away suddenly, to
any thing but happy hunting-grounds. When it’s onsartain whether good or evil
has been done, the wisest way is not to be boastful--still, I should like
Chingachgook to know that I haven’t discredited the Delawares, or my training!”
Part of this was uttered
aloud, while part was merely muttered between the speaker’s teeth; his more
confident opinions enjoying the first advantage, while his doubts were
expressed in the latter mode. Soliloquy and reflection received a startling
interruption, however, by the sudden appearance of a second Indian on the lake
shore, a few hundred yards from the point. This man, evidently another scout,
who had probably been drawn to the place by the reports of the rifles, broke
out of the forest with so little caution, that Deerslayer caught a view of his
person before he was himself discovered. When the latter event die occur, as
was the case a moment later, the savage gave a loud yell, which was answered by
a dozen voices from different parts of the mountain-side. There was no longer
any time for delay, and, in another minute the boat was quitting the shore
under long and steady sweeps of the paddle.
As soon as Deerslayer
believed himself to be at a safe distance, he ceased his efforts, permitting
the little bark to drift, while he leisurely took a survey of the state of
things. The canoe first sent adrift was floating before the air, quite a
quarter of a mile above him, and a little nearer to the shore than he wished,
now that he knew more of the savages were near at hand. The canoe shoved from
the point was within a few yards of him, he having directed his own course
towards it, on quitting the land. The dead Indian lay in grim quiet where he
had left him, the warrior who had shown himself from the forest had already
vanished, and the woods themselves were as silent, and seemingly as deserted,
as the day they came fresh from the hands of their great Creator. This profound
stillness, however, lasted but a moment. When time had been given to the scouts
of the enemy to reconnoitre, they burst out of the thicket upon the naked
point, filling the air with yells of fury, at discovering the death of their
companion. These cries were immediately succeeded by shouts of delight, when
they reached the body, and clustered eagerly around it. Deerslayer was a
sufficient adept in the usages of the natives, to understand the reason of the
change. The yell was the customary lamentation at the loss of a warrior, the
shout a sign of rejoicing that the conqueror had not been able to secure the
scalp; the trophy, without which a victory was never considered complete. The
distance at which the canoes lay, probably prevented any attempts to injure the
conqueror, the American Indian, like the panther of his own woods, seldom
making any effort against his foe, unless tolerably certain it is under
circumstances that may be expected to prove effective.
As the young man had no
longer any motive to remain near the point, he prepared to collect his canoes,
in order to tow them off to the castle. That nearest was soon in tow, when he
proceeded in quest of the other, which was, all this time, floating up the
lake. The eye of Deerslayer was no sooner fastened on this last boat, than it
struck him that it was nearer to the shore than it would have been, had it merely
followed the course of the gentle current of air. He began to suspect the
influence of some unseen current in the water, and he quickened his exertions,
in order to regain possession of it before it could drift in to a dangerous
proximity to the woods. On getting nearer, he thought that the canoe had a
perceptible motion through the water, and, as it lay broadside to the air, that
this motion was taking it towards the land. A few vigorous strokes of the
paddle carried him still nearer, when the mystery was explained. Something was
evidently in motion on the off-side of the canoe, or that which was furthest
from himself, and closer scrutiny showed that it was a naked human arm. An
Indian was lying in the bottom of the canoe, and was propelling it slowly, but
certainly, to the shore, using his hand as a paddle. Deerslayer understood the
whole artifice at a glance. A savage had swum off to the boat while he was
occupied with his enemy on the point, got possession, and was using these means
to urge it to the shore.
Satisfied that the man
in the canoe could have no arms, Deerslayer did not hesitate to dash close
alongside of the retiring boat, without deeming it necessary to raise his own
rifle. As soon as the wash of the water, which he made in approaching, became
audible to the prostrate savage, the latter sprang to his feet, and uttered an
exclamation that proved how completely he was taken by surprise.
“If you ’ve enj’yed
yourself enough in that canoe, red-skin,” Deerslayer coolly observed, stopping
his own career in sufficient time to prevent an absolute collision between the
two boats--“if you ’ve enj’yed yourself enough in that canoe, you ’ll do a
prudent act by taking to the lake ag’in. I ’m reasonable in these matters, and
don’t crave your blood, though there’s them about that would look upon you more
as a due-bill for the bounty, than a human mortal. Take to the lake, this
minute, afore we get to hot words.”
The savage was one of
those who did not understand a word of English, and he was indebted to the
gestures of Deerslayer, and to the expression of an eye that did not often
deceive, for an imperfect comprehension of his meaning. Perhaps, too, the sight
of the rifle that lay so near the hand of the white man quickened his decision.
At all events, he crouched like a tiger about to take his leap, uttered a yell,
and the next instant his naked body had disappeared in the water. When he rose
to take breath, it was at the distance of several yards from the canoe, and the
hasty glance he threw behind him, denoted how much he feared the arrival of a
fatal messenger from the rifle of his foe. But the young man made no indication
of any hostile intention. Deliberately securing the canoe to the others, he
began to paddle from the shore; and by the time the Indian reached the land,
and had shaken himself, like a spaniel on quitting the water, his dreaded enemy
was already beyond rifle-shot, on his way to the castle. As was so much his
practice, Deerslayer did not fail to soliloquize on what had just occurred
while steadily pursuing his course towards the point of destination.
“Well, well”--he
commenced--“’t would have been wrong to kill a human mortal without an object.
Scalps are of no account with me, and life is sweet, and ought not to be taken
marcilessly, by them that have white gifts. The savage was a Mingo, it’s true;
and I make no doubt he is, and will be, as long as he lives, a ra’al riptyle
and vagabond; but that’s no reason I should forget my gifts and colour. No,
no--let him go; if ever we meet ag’in, rifle in hand, why then ’t will be seen
which has the stoutest heart and the quickest eye.--Hawkeye! That’s not a bad
name for a warrior, sounding much more manful and valiant than Deerslayer! ’T
wouldn’t be a bad title to begin with, and it has been fairly ’arned. If ’t was
Chingachgook, now, he might go home and boast of his deeds, and the chiefs
would name him Hawkeye, in a minute; but it don’t become white blood to brag,
and ’t isn’t easy to see how the matter can be known, unless I do. Well,
well--every thing is in the hands of Providence; this affair as well as
another; I’ll trust to that for getting my desarts in all things.”
Having thus betrayed
what might be termed his weak spot, the young man continued to paddle in
silence, making his way diligently, and as fast as his tows would allow him,
towards the castle. By this time the sun had not only risen, but it had
appeared over the eastern mountains, and was shedding a flood of glorious light
on this, as yet, unchristened sheet of water. The whole scene was radiant with
beauty; and no one unaccustomed to the ordinary history of the woods, would
fancy it had so lately witnessed incidents so ruthless and barbarous. As he
approached the building of old Hutter, Deerslayer thought, or rather felt, that
its appearance was in singular harmony with all the rest of the scene. Although
nothing had been consulted but strength and security, the rude massive logs,
covered with their rough bark, the projecting roof, and the form, would
contribute to render the building picturesque in almost any situation, while
its actual position added novelty and piquancy to its other points of interest.
When Deerslayer drew
nearer to the castle, however, objects of interest presented themselves, that
at once eclipsed any beauties that might have distinguished the scenery of the
lake, and the site of the singular edifice. Judith and Hetty stood on the
platform, before the door, Hurry’s door-yard, awaiting his approach with
manifest anxiety; the former, from time to time, taking a survey of his person
and of the canoes, through the old ship’s spy-glass that has been already
mentioned. Never probably did this girl seem more brilliantly beautiful than at
that moment; the flush of anxiety and alarm increasing her colour to its
richest tints, while the softness of her eyes, a charm that even poor Hetty
shared with her, was deepened by intense concern. Such, at least, without
pausing, or pretending to analyze motives, or to draw any other very nice
distinctions between cause and effect, were the opinions of the young man as
his canoes reached the side of the ark, where he carefully fastened all three,
before he put his foot on the platform.
“His words are bonds,
his oaths are oracles;
His love sincere, his
thoughts immaculate;
His tears pure
messengers sent from his heart;
His heart as far from
fraud, as heaven from earth.”
Shakspeare Neither of the girls
spoke, as Deerslayer stood before them alone, his countenance betraying all the
apprehension he felt on account of the two absent members of their party.
“Father!” Judith at
length exclaimed, succeeding in uttering the word, as it might be, by a
desperate effort.
“He’s met with
misfortune, and there’s no use in concealing it,” answered Deerslayer, in his
direct and simple-minded manner. “He and Hurry are in Mingo hands, and Heaven
only knows what’s to be the tarmination. I’ve got the canoes safe, and that’s a
consolation, since the vagabonds will have to swim for it, or raft off, to come
near this place. At sunset we’ll be reinforced by Chingachgook, if I can manage
to get him into a canoe; and then, I think, we two can answer for the ark and
the castle, ’till some of the officers in the garrisons hear of this war-path,
which sooner or later must be the case, when we may look for succour from that
quarter, if from no other.”
“The officers!”
exclaimed Judith, impatiently, her colour deepening, and her eye expressing a
lively but passing emotion. “Who thinks or speaks of the heartless gallants,
now?--We are sufficient of ourselves to defend the castle; --but what of my
father, and of poor Hurry Harry?”
“ ’Tis natural you
should feel this consarn for your own parent, Judith, and I suppose it’s
equally so that you should feel it for Hurry Harry, too.”
Deerslayer then
commenced a succinct but clear narrative of all that occurred during the night,
in no manner concealing what had befallen his two companions, or his own
opinion of what might prove to be the consequences. The girls listened with
profound attention, but neither betrayed that feminine apprehension and
concern, which would have followed such a communication when made to those who
were less accustomed to the hazards and accidents of a frontier life. To the
surprise of Deerslayer, Judith seemed the most distressed, Hetty listening
eagerly, but appearing to brood over the facts in melancholy silence, rather
than betraying any outward signs of feeling. The former’s agitation, the young
man did not fail to attribute to the interest she felt in Hurry, quite as much
as to her filial love, while Hetty’s apparent indifference was ascribed to that
mental darkness which, in a measure, obscured her intellect, and which possibly
prevented her from foreseeing all the consequences. Little was said, however,
by either, Judith and her sister busying themselves in making the preparations
for the morning meal, as they who habitually attend to such matters, toil on
mechanically even in the midst of suffering and sorrow. The plain but
nutritious breakfast was taken by all three, in sombre silence. The girls ate
little, but Deerslayer gave proof of possessing one material requisite of a
good soldier, that of preserving his appetite in the midst of the most alarming
and embarrassing circumstances. The meal was nearly ended before a syllable was
uttered; then, however, Judith spoke in the convulsive and hurried manner in
which feeling breaks through restraint, after the latter has become more
painful than even the betrayal of emotion.
“Father would have
relished this fish!” she exclaimed; “he says the salmon of the lakes is almost
as good as the salmon of the sea.”
“Your father has been
acquainted with the sea, they tell me, Judith,” returned the young man, who
could not forbear throwing a glance of inquiry at the girl; for, in common with
all who knew Hutter he had some curiosity on the subject of his early history. “Hurry
Harry tells he was once a sailor.”
Judith first looked
perplexed; then, influenced by feelings that were novel to her, in more ways
than one, she became suddenly communicative, and seemingly much interested in
the discourse.
“If Hurry knows any
thing of father’s history, I would he had told it to me!” she cried. “Sometimes
I think, too, he was once a sailor, and then again I think he was not. If that
chest were open, or if it could speak, it might let us into his whole history.
But its fastenings are too strong to be broken like pack-thread.”
Deerslayer turned to
the chest in question, and for the first time examined it closely. Although
discoloured, and bearing proofs of having received much ill-treatment, he saw
that it was of materials and workmanship altogether superior to any thing of
the same sort he had ever before beheld. The wood was dark, rich, and had once
been highly polished, though the treatment it had received left little gloss on
its surface, and various scratches and indentations proved the rough collisions
that it had encountered with substances still harder than itself. The corners
were firmly bound with steel, elaborately and richly wrought, while the locks,
of which it had no less than three, and the hinges, were of a fashion and
workmanship that would have attracted attention even in a warehouse of curious
furniture. The chest was large too; and when Deerslayer arose, and endeavoured
to raise an end by its massive handle, he found that the weight fully
corresponded with the external appearance.
“Did you never see that
chest opened, Judith,” the young man demanded with frontier freedom, for
delicacy on such subjects was little felt among the people on the verge of
civilization, in that age, even if it be to-day.
“Never. Father has
never opened it in my presence, if he ever opens it at all. No one here has
ever seen its lid raised, unless it be father; nor do I even know that he has
ever seen it.”
“Now, you’re wrong,
Judith,” Hetty quietly answered. “Father has raised the lid, and I’ve seen him
do it.”
A feeling of manliness
kept the mouth of Deerslayer shut; for, while he would not have hesitated about
going far beyond what would be thought the bounds of propriety, in questioning
the elder sister, he had just scruples about taking what might be thought an
advantage of the feeble intellect of the younger. Judith, being under no such
restraint, however, turned quickly to the last speaker, and continued the discourse.
“When and where did you
ever see that chest opened, Hetty?”
“Here, and, again and
again. Father often opens it, when you are away, though he don’t in the least
mind my being by, and seeing all he does, as well as hearing all he says.”
“And what is it that he
does, and what does he say?”
“That I cannot tell
you, Judith,” returned the other, in a low, but resolute voice. “Father’s
secrets are not my secrets.”
“Secrets! This is
stranger still, Deerslayer; that father should tell them to Hetty, and not tell
them to me!”
“There’s good reason
for that, Judith, though you’re not to know it. Father’s not here to answer for
himself, and I’ll say no more about it.”
Judith and Deerslayer
looked surprised, and, for a minute, the first seemed pained. But, suddenly
recollecting herself, she turned away from her sister, as if in pity for her
weakness, and addressed the young man.
“You’ve told but half
your story,” she said, “breaking off at the place where you went to sleep in
the canoe-- or, rather, where you rose to listen to the cry of the loon. We
heard the call of the loons, too, and thought their cries might bring a storm,
though we are little used to tempests on this lake, at this season of the year.”
“The winds blow, and
the tempests howl as God pleases; sometimes at one season, and sometimes at
another,” answered Deerslayer; “and the loons speak accordin’ to their natur’.
Better would it be, if men were as honest and frank. After I rose to listen to
the birds, finding it could not be Hurry’s signal, I lay down and slept. When
the day dawned I was up and stirring as usual, and then I went in chase of the
two canoes, lest the Mingos should lay hands on ’em.”
“You have not told us
all, Deerslayer,” said Judith, earnestly. “We heard rifles, under the eastern
mountain; the echoes were full and long, and came so soon after the reports,
that the pieces must have been fired on, or quite near to the shore. Our ears
are used to these signs, and are not to be deceived.”
“They’ve done their
duty, gal, this time; yes, they’ve done their duty. Rifles have been sighted
this morning, ay, and triggers pulled, too, though not as often as they might
have been. One warrior has gone to his happy hunting-grounds, and that’s the
whole of it. A man of white blood, and white gifts, is not to be expected to
boast of his expl’ites, and to flourish scalps.”
Judith listened almost
breathlessly; and, when Deerslayer, in his quiet, modest manner, seemed
disposed to quit the subject, she rose, and, crossing the room, took a seat by
his side. The manner of the girl had nothing forward about it, though it
betrayed the quick instinct of female affection, and the sympathizing kindness
of a woman’s interest. She even took the hard hand of the hunter, and pressed
it in both her own, unconsciously to herself, perhaps, while she looked
earnestly and even reproachfully into his sun-burned face.
“You have been fighting
the savages, Deerslayer, singly and by yourself!” she said. “In your wish to
take care of us--of Hetty--of me, perhaps--you’ve fought the enemy bravely,
with no eye to encourage your deeds, or to witness your fall, had it pleased
Providence to suffer so great a calamity!”
“I’ve fou’t, Judith;
yes I have fou’t the inimy, and that, too, for the first time in my life. These
things must be, and they bring with ’em a mixed feelin’ of sorrow and triumph.
Human natur’ is a fightin’ natur’, I suppose, as all nations kill in battle,
and we must be true to our rights and gifts. What has yet been done is no great
matter, but, should Chingachgook come to the rock this evening, as is agreed
atween us, and I get him off it, onbeknown to the savages, or, if known to
them, ag’in their wishes and designs, then may we all look to something like
warfare, afore the Mingos shall get possession of either the castle, or the
ark, or yourselves.”
“Who is this
Chingachgook; from what place does he come, and why does he come here?”
“The questions are nat’ral,
and right, I suppose, though the youth has a great name, already, in his own
part of the country. Chingachgook is a Mohican by blood, consorting with the
Delawares by usage, as is the case with most of his tribe; which has long been
broken up by the increase of our colour. He is of the family of the great
chiefs, Uncas, his father, having been the considerablest warrior and
counsellor of his people. Even old Tamenund honours Chingachgook, though he is
thought to be yet too young to lead in war; and then the nation is so disparsed
and diminished, that chieftainship among ’em has got to be little more than a
name. Well, this war having commenced in ’arnest, the Delaware and I rendezvous’d
an app’intment to meet this evening, at sunset, on the rendezvous-rock, at the
foot of this very lake, intending to come out on our first hostile expedition
ag’in the Mingos. Why we come exactly this-a-way, is our own secret; but
thoughtful young men, on a war-path, as you may suppose, do nothing without a
calculation, and a design.”
“A Delaware can have no
unfriendly intentions towards us,” said Judith, after a moment’s hesitation, “and
we know you to be friendly.”
“Treachery is the last
crime I hope to be accused of,” returned Deerslayer, hurt at the gleam of
distrust that had shot through Judith’s mind; “and, least of all, treachery to
my own colour.”
“No one suspects you,
Deerslayer,” the girl impetuously cried. “No--no--your honest countenance would
be a sufficient surety for the truth of a thousand hearts! If all men had as
honest tongues, and no more promised what they did not mean to perform, there
would be less wrong done in the world, and fine feathers and scarlet cloaks
would not be thought excuses for baseness and deception.”
The girl spoke with
strong, nay, even with convulsed feeling, and her fine eyes, usually so soft
and alluring, flashed fire as she concluded. Deerslayer could not but observe
this extraordinary emotion; but, with the tact of a courtier, he avoided not
only any allusion to the circumstance, but succeeded in concealing the effect
of his discovery on himself. Judith gradually grew calm again, and, as she was
obviously anxious to appear to advantage in the eyes of the young man, she was
soon able to renew the conversation as composedly as if nothing had occurred to
disturb her.
“I have no right to
look into your secrets, or the secrets of your friend, Deerslayer,” she
continued, “and am ready to take all you say on trust. If we can really get
another male ally to join us, at this trying moment, it will aid us much; and I
am not without hope that when the savages find we are able to keep the lake,
they will offer to give up their prisoners in exchange for skins, or, at least
for the keg of powder that we have in the house.”
The young man had the
words “scalps,” and “bounty,” on his lips, but a reluctance to alarm the
feelings of the daughters, prevented him from making the allusion he had
intended to the probable fate of their father. Still, so little was he
practised in the arts of deception, that his expressive countenance was, of
itself, understood by the quick-witted Judith, whose intelligence had been
sharpened by the risks and habits of her life.
“I understand what you
mean,” she continued, hurriedly, “and what you would say, but for the fear of
hurting me --us, I mean; for Hetty loves her father quite as well as I do. But
this is not as we think of Indians. They never scalp an unhurt prisoner, but
would rather take him away alive; unless, indeed, the fierce wish for torturing
should get the mastery of them. I fear nothing for my father’s scalp, and
little for his life. Could they steal on us, in the night, we should all
probably suffer in this way; but men taken in open strife, are seldom injured;
not, at least, until the time of torture comes.”
“That’s tradition, I’ll
allow, and it’s according to practice--but, Judith, do you know the ’ar’nd on
which your father and Hutter went ag’in the savages?”
“I do; and a cruel
errand it was! But what will you have? Men will be men, and some even that
flaunt in their gold and silver, and carry the king’s commission in their
pockets, are not guiltless of equal cruelty.” Judith’s eye again flashed, but,
by a desperate struggle, she resumed her composure. “I get warm, when I think
of all the wrong that men do,” she added, affecting to smile, an effort in
which she only succeeded indifferently well. “All this is silly. What is done,
is done, and it cannot be mended by complaints. But the Indians think so little
of the shedding of blood, and value men so much for the boldness of their
undertakings, that, did they know the business on which their prisoners came,
they would be more likely to honour, than to injure them for it.”
“For a time, Judith;
yes, I allow that, for a time. But, when that feelin’ dies away, then will come
the love of revenge. We must indivour, Chingachgook and I, we must indivour to
see what we can do to get Hurry and your father free; for the Mingos will, no
doubt, hover about this lake some days, in order to make the most of their
success.”
“You think this
Delaware can be depended on, Deerslayer?” demanded the girl, thoughtfully.
“As much as I can
myself. You say you do not suspect me, Judith?”
“You!” taking his hand
again, and pressing it between her own with a warmth that might have awakened
the vanity of one less simple-minded, and more disposed to dwell on his own
good qualities, “I would as soon suspect a brother! I have known you but a day,
Deerslayer, but it has awakened the confidence of a year. Your name, however,
is not unknown to me; for the gallants of the garrisons frequently speak of the
lessons you have given them in hunting, and all proclaim your honesty.”
“Do they ever talk of
the shooting, gal?” inquired the other eagerly, after, however, laughing in a
silent but heart-felt manner. “Do they ever talk of the shooting? I want to
hear nothing about my own, for, if that isn’t sartified to, by this time, in
all these parts, there’s little use in being skilful and sure; but what do the
officers say of their own-- yes, what do they say of their own! Arms, as they
call it, is their trade, and yet there’s some among ’em that know very little
how to use ’em!”
“Such, I hope, will not
be the case with your friend Chingachgook, as you call him--what is the English
of his Indian name?”
“Big Sarpent--so called
for his wisdom and cunning. Uncas is his ra’al name--all his family being
called Uncas, until they get a title that has been ’arned by deeds.”
“If he has all this
wisdom, we may expect a useful friend in him, unless his own business in this
part of the country should prevent him from serving us.”
“I see no great harm in
telling you his ar’n’d, after all, and, as you may find means to help us, I
will let you and Hetty into the whole matter, trusting that you’ll keep the
secret as if it was your own. You must know that Chingachgook is a comely
Indian, and is much look’d upon and admired by the young women of his tribe,
both on account of his family, and on account of himself. Now, there is a chief
that has a daughter called Wah-ta!-Wah, which is intarpreted into
Hist-oh!-Hist, in the English tongue, the rarest gal among the Delawares, and
the one most sought after and craved for a wife, by all the young warriors of
the nation. Well, Chingachgook, among others, took a fancy to Wah-ta!-Wah, and
Wah-ta!-Wah took a fancy to him.” Here Deerslayer paused an instant; for, as he
got thus far in his tale, Hetty Hutter arose, approached and stood attentive at
his knee, as a child draws near to listen to the legends of its mother. “Yes,
he fancied her, and she fancied him,” resumed Deerslayer, after casting a
friendly and approving glance at the innocent and interested girl; “and when
that is the case, and all the elders are agreed, it does not often happen that
the young couple keep apart. Chingachgook could’n’t well carry off such a prize
without making inimies among them that wanted her as much as he did himself. A
sartain Briarthorn, as we call him in English, or Yocommon, as he is tarmed in
Indian, took it most to heart, and we mistrust him of having a hand in all that
followed. Wah-ta!- Wah went with her father and mother, two moons ago, to fish
for salmon, on the western streams, where, it is agreed by all in these parts,
that fish most abounds, and while thus empl’y’d the gal vanished. For several
weeks we could get no tidings of her; but, here, ten days since, a runner that
came through the Delaware country, brought us a message, by which we l’arn that
Wah-ta!-Wah was stolen from her people--we think, but do not know it, by
Briarthorn’s sarcumventions,--and that she was now with the inimy, who had
adopted her, and wanted her to marry a young Mingo. The message said that the
party intended to hunt and forage through this region, for a month or two,
afore it went back into the Canadas, and that if we could contrive to get on a
scent in this quarter, something might turn up that would lead to our getting
the maiden off.”
“And how does that
concern you, Deerslayer?” demanded Judith, a little anxiously.
“It consarns me, as all
things that touches a fri’nd consarns a fri’nd. I’m here as Chingachgook’s aid
and helper, and if we can get the young maiden he likes back ag’in, it will give
me almost as much pleasure as if I had got back my own sweetheart.”
“And where, then, is
your sweetheart, Deerslayer?”
“She ’s in the forest,
Judith--hanging from the boughs of the trees, in a soft rain--in the dew on the
open grass-- the clouds that float about in the blue heavens--the birds that
sing in the woods--the sweet springs where I slake my thirst--and in all the
other glorious gifts that come from God’s Providence!”
“You mean that, as yet,
you’ve never loved one of my sex, but love best your haunts, and your own
manner of life.”
“That’s it--that’s just
it. I am white--have a white heart, and can’t, in reason, love a red-skinned
maiden, who must have a red-skin heart and feelin’s. No, no, I ’m sound enough
in them particulars, and hope to remain so, at least till this war is over. I
find my time too much taken up with Chingachgook’s affair, to wish to have one
of my own on my hands afore that is settled.”
“The girl that finally
wins you, Deerslayer, will at least win an honest heart; one without treachery
or guile; and that will be a victory, that most of her sex ought to envy.”
As Judith uttered this,
her beautiful face had a resentful frown on it; while a bitter smile lingered
around a mouth that no derangement of the muscles could render any thing but
handsome. Her companion observed the change, and, though little skilled in the
workings of the female heart, he had sufficient native delicacy to understand
that it might be well to drop the subject.
As the hour when
Chingachgook was expected, still remained distant, Deerslayer had time enough
to examine into the state of the defences, and to make such additional
arrangements as were in his power, and the exigency of the moment seemed to
require. The experience and foresight of Hutter had left little to be done in
these particulars; still several precautions suggested themselves to the young
man, who may be said to have studied the art of frontier warfare, through the
traditions and legends of the people among whom he had so long lived. The distance
between the castle and the nearest point on the shore, prevented any
apprehension on the subject of rifle-bullets thrown from the land. The house
was within musket-shot, in one sense, it was true, but aim was entirely out of
the question, and even Judith professed a perfect disregard of any danger from
that source. So long, then, as the party remained in possession of the
fortress, they were safe; unless their assailants could find the means to come
off and carry it by fire or storm; or, by some of the devices of Indian cunning
and Indian treachery. Against the first source of danger, Hutter had made ample
provision, and the building itself, the bark roof excepted, was not very
combustible. The floor was scuttled in several places, and buckets provided
with ropes, were in daily use, in readiness for any such emergency. One of the
girls could easily extinguish any fire that might be lighted, provided it had
not time to make much headway. Judith, who appeared to understand all her
father’s schemes of defence, and who had the spirit to take no unimportant
share in the execution of them, explained all these details to the young man,
who was thus saved much time and labour in making his investigations.
Little was to be
apprehended during the day. In possession of the canoes and of the ark, no
other vessel was to be found on the lake. Nevertheless, Deerslayer well knew
that a raft was soon made, and as dead trees were to be found in abundance near
the water, did the savages seriously contemplate the risks of an assault, it
would not be a very difficult matter to find the necessary means. The
celebrated American axe, a tool that is quite unrivalled in its way, was then
not very extensively known, and the savages were far from expert in the use of
its hatchet-like substitute; still, they had sufficient practive in crossing
streams by this mode to render it certain they would construct a raft, should
they deem it expedient to expose themselves to the risks of an assault. The
death of their warrior might prove a sufficient incentive, or it might act as a
caution; but Deerslayer thought it more than possible that the succeeding night
would bring matters to a crisis, and in this precise way. This impression
caused him to wish ardently for the presence and succour of his Mohican friend,
and to look forward to the approach of sunset with an increasing anxiety.
As the day advanced,
the party in the castle matured their plans, and made their preparations.
Judith was active, and seemed to find a pleasure in consulting and advising
with her new acquaintance, whose indifference to danger, manly devotion to
herself and sister, guilelessness of manner, and truth of feeling, had won
rapidly on both her imagination and her affections. Although the hours appeared
long in some respects to Deerslayer, Judith did not find them so, and when the
sun began to descend towards the pine-clad summits of the western hills, she
felt and expressed her surprise that the day should so soon be drawing to a
close. On the other hand, Hetty was moody and silent. She was never loquacious,
or if she occasionally became communicative, it was under the influence of some
temporary excitement, that served to arouse her unsophisticated mind; but, for
hours at a time, in the course of this all-important day, she seemed to have
absolutely lost the use of her tongue. Nor did apprehension on account of her
father, materially affect the manner of either sister. Neither appeared
seriously to dread any evil greater than captivity, and once or twice, when
Hetty did speak, she intimated the expectation that Hutter would find the means
to liberate himself. Although Judith was less sanguine on this head, she too
betrayed the hope that propositions for a ransom would come, when the Indians
discovered that the castle set their expedients and artifices at defiance.
Deerslayer, however, treated these passing suggestions as the ill-digested
fancies of girls, making his own arrangements as steadily, and brooding over
the future as seriously, as if they had never fallen from their lips.
At length the hour
arrived when it became necessary to proceed to the place of rendezvous
appointed with the Mohican; or Delaware, as Chingachgook was more commonly
called. As the plan had been matured by Deerslayer, and fully communicated to
his companions, all three set about its execution, in concert, and
intelligently. Hetty passed into the ark, and fastening two of the canoes
together, she entered one, and paddled up to a sort of gate-way in the
palisadoes that surrounded the building, through which she carried both;
securing them beneath the house by chains that were fastened within the
building. These palisadoes were trunks of trees driven firmly into the mud, and
served the double purpose of a small enclosure, that was intended to be used in
this very manner, and to keep any enemy that might approach in boats at arm’s-length.
Canoes thus docked were, in a measure, hid from sight, and as the gate was
properly barred and fastened, it would not be an easy task to remove them, even
in the event of their being seen. Previously, however, to closing the gate,
Judith also entered within the enclosure with the third canoe, leaving
Deerslayer busy in securing the door and windows inside the building, over her
head. As every thing was massive and strong, and small saplings were used as
bars, it would have been the work of an hour or two to break into the building,
when Deerslayer had ended his task, even allowing the assailants the use of any
tools but the axe, and to be unresisted. This attention to security arose from
Hutter’s having been robbed once or twice, by the lawless whites of the
frontiers, during some of his many absences from home.
As soon as all was fast
in the inside of the dwelling, Deerslayer appeared at a trap, from which he
descended into the canoe of Judith. When this was done, he fastened the door
with a massive staple and stout padlock. Hetty was then received in the canoe,
which was shoved outside of the palisadoes. The next precaution was to fasten
the gate, and the keys were carried into the ark. The three were now fastened
out of the dwelling, which could only be entered by violence, or by following
the course taken by the young man in quitting it.
The glass had been
brought outside as a preliminary step, and Deerslayer next took a careful
survey of the entire shore of the lake, as far as his own position would allow.
Not a living thing was visible, a few birds excepted, and even the last
fluttered about in the shades of the trees, as if unwilling to encounter the
heat of a sultry afternoon. All the nearest points, in particular, were
subjected to severe scrutiny, in order to make certain that no raft was in
preparation; the result everywhere giving the same picture of calm solitude. A
few words will explain the greatest embarrassment belonging to the situation of
our party. Exposed themselves to the observation of any watchful eyes, the
movements of their enemies were concealed by the drapery of a dense forest.
While the imagination would be very apt to people the latter with more warriors
than it really contained, their own weakness must be too apparent to all who
might chance to cast a glance in their direction.
“Nothing is stirring,
hows’ever,” exclaimed Deerslayer, as he finally lowered the glass, and prepared
to enter the ark: “If the vagabonds do harbour mischief in their minds, they
are too cunning to let it be seen; it’s true, a raft may be in preparation in
the woods, but it has not yet been brought down to the lake. They can’t guess
that we are about to quit the castle, and, if they did, they ’ve no means of
knowing where we intend to go.”
“This is so true,
Deerslayer,” returned Judith, “that now all is ready, we may proceed, at once,
boldly, and without the fear of being followed--else we shall be behind our
time.”
“No--no--the matter
needs management--for, though the savages are in the dark as to Chingachgook
and the rock, they ’ve eyes and legs, and will see in what direction we steer,
and will be sartain to follow us. I shall strive to baffle ’em, hows’ever, by
heading the scow in all manner of ways, first in one quarter, and then in
another, until they get to be a-leg-weary, and tired of tramping after us.”
So far as it was in his
power, Deerslayer was as good as his word. In less than five minutes after this
speech was made, the whole party was in the ark, and in motion. There was a
gentle breeze from the north; and boldly hoisting the sail, the young man laid
the head of the unwieldy craft in such a direction as, after making a liberal
but necessary allowance for lee-way, would have brought it ashore a couple of
miles down the lake, and on its eastern side. The sailing of the ark was never
very swift, though, floating as it did on the surface, it was not difficult to
get it in motion, or to urge it along over the water, at the rate of some three
or four miles in the hour. The distance between the castle and the rock was a
little more than two leagues. Knowing the punctuality of an Indian, Deerslayer
had made his calculations closely, and had given himself a little more time
than was necessary to reach the place of rendezvous, with a view to delay, or
to press his arrival, as might prove most expedient. When he hoisted the sail,
the sun lay above the western hills, at an elevation that promised rather more
than two hours of day; and a few minutes satisfied him that the progress of the
scow was such as to equal his expectations.
It was a glorious June
afternoon, and never did that solitary sheet of water seem less like an arena
of strife and bloodshed. The light air scarce descended as low as the bed of
the lake, hovering over it, as if unwilling to disturb its deep tranquillity,
or to ruffle its mirror-like surface. Even the forests appeared to be
slumbering in the sun, and a few piles of fleecy clouds had lain for hours along
the northern horizon, like fixtures in the atmosphere, placed there purely to
embellish the scene. A few aquatic fowls occasionally skimmed along the water,
and a single raven was visible, sailing high above the trees, and keeping a
watchful eye on the forest beneath him, in order to detect any thing having
life that the mysterious woods might offer as prey.
The reader will
probably have observed, that, amidst the frankness and abruptness of manner,
which marked the frontier habits of Judith, her language was superior to that
used by her male companions, her own father included. This difference extended
as well to pronunciation, as to the choice of words and phrases. Perhaps
nothing so soon betrays the education and association as the modes of speech;
and few accomplishments so much aid the charm of female beauty as a graceful
and even utterance, while nothing so soon produces the disenchantment that
necessarily follows a discrepancy between appearance and manner, as a mean
intonation of voice, or a vulgar use of words. Judith and her sister were
marked exceptions to all the girls of their class, along that whole frontier;
the officers of the nearest garrison having often flattered the former with the
belief that few ladies of the towns acquitted themselves better than herself,
in this important particular. This was far from being literally true, but it
was sufficiently near the fact to give birth to the compliment. The girls were
indebted to their mother for this advantage, having acquired from her, in childhood,
an advantage that no subsequent study or labour can give without a drawback, if
neglected beyond the earlier periods of life. Who that mother was, or, rather,
had been, no one but Hutter knew. She had now been dead two summers, and, as
was stated by Hurry, she had been buried in the lake; whether in indulgence of
a prejudice, or from a reluctance to take the trouble to dig her grave, had
frequently been a matter of discussion between the rude beings of that region.
Judith had never visited the spot, but Hetty was present at the interment, and
she often paddled a canoe, about sunset, or by the light of the moon, to the
place, and gazed down into the limpid water, in the hope of being able to catch
a glimpse of a form that she had so tenderly loved, from infancy to the sad
hour of their parting.
“Must we reach the rock
exactly at the moment the sun sets?” Judith demanded of the young man, as they
stood near each other, Deerslayer holding the steering-oar, and she working
with a needle at some ornament of dress, that much exceeded her station in
life, and was altogether a novelty in the woods. “Will a few minutes, sooner or
later, alter the matter? it will be very hazardous to remain long near the
shore as that rock!”
“That ’s it, Judith;
that’s the very difficulty! The rock’s within pi’nt blank for a shot-gun, and ’t
will never do to hover about it too close and too long. When you have to deal
with an Indian, you must calculate and manage, for a red natur’ dearly likes
sarcumvention. Now, you see, Judith, that I do not steer towards the rock at
all, but here to the eastward of it, whereby the savages will be tramping off
in that direction, and get their legs awearied, and all for no advantage.”
“You think, then, they
see us, and watch our movements, Deerslayer? I was in hopes they might have
fallen back into the woods, and left us to ourselves, for a few hours.”
“That’s altogether a
woman’s consati. There ’s no let-up in an Indian’s watchfulness when he’s on a
war-path; and eyes are on us at this minute, ’though the lake presarves us. We
must draw near the rock on a calculation, and indivour to get the miscreants on
a false scent. The Mingos have good noses, they tell me; but a white man’s
reason ought always to equalize their instinct.”
Judith now entered into
a desultory discourse with Deerslayer, in which the girl betrayed her growing
interest in the young man; an interest that his simplicity of mind, and her
decision of character, sustained as it was by the consciousness awakened by the
consideration her personal charms so universally produced, rendered her less
anxious to conceal than might otherwise have been the case. She was scarcely
forward in her manner, though there was sometimes a freedom in her glances,
that it required all the aid of her exceeding beauty to prevent from awakening
suspicions unfavourable to her discretion, if not to her morals. With
Deerslayer, however, these glances were rendered less obnoxious to so
unpleasant a construction; for she seldom looked at him, without discovering
much of the sincerity and nature that accompany the purest emotions of woman.
It was a little remarkable that, as his captivity lengthened, neither of the
girls manifested any great concern for her father; but, as has been said
already, their habits gave them confidence, and they looked forward to his
liberation, by means of a ransom, with a confidence that might, in a great
degree, account for their apparent indifference. Once before, Hutter had been
in the hands of the Iroquois, and a few skins had readily effected his release.
This event, however, unknown to the sisters, had occurred in a time of peace
between England and France, and when the savages were restrained, instead of
being encouraged to commit their excesses, by the policy of the different colonial
governments.
While Judith was
loquacious and caressing in her manner, Hetty remained thoughtful and silent.
Once, indeed, she drew near to Deerslayer, and questioned him a little closely
as to his intentions, as well as concerning the mode of effecting his purpose;
but her wish to converse went no farther. As soon as her simple queries were
answered-- and answered they all were, in the fullest and kindest manner--she
withdrew to her seat, and continued to work on a coarse garment that she was making
for her father, sometimes humming a low melancholy air, and frequently sighing.
In this manner the time
passed away; and when the sun was beginning to glow behind the fringe of pines
that bounded the western hill, or about twenty minutes before it actually set,
the ark was nearly as low as the point where Hutter and Hurry had been made
prisoners. By sheering first to one side of the lake, and then to the other,
Deerslayer had managed to create an uncertainty as to his object; and,
doubtless, the savages, who were unquestionably watching his movements, were
led to believe that his aim was to communicate with them, at or near this spot,
and would hasten in that direction, in order to be in readiness to profit by
circumstances. This artifice was well managed; since the sweep of the bay, the
curvature of the lake, and the low marshy land that intervened, would probably
allow the ark to reach the rock, before its pursuers, if really collected near
the point, could have time to make the circuit that would be required to get
there by land. With a view to aid this deception, Deerslayer stood as near the
western shore as was at all prudent; and, then, causing Judith and Hetty to
enter the house, or cabin, and crouching himself so as to conceal his person by
the frame of the scow, he suddenly threw the head of the letter round, and
began to make the best of his way towards the outlet. Favoured by an increase
in the wind, the progress of the ark was such as to promise the complete
success of this plan, though the crab-like movement of the craft compelled the
helmsman to keep its head looking in a direction very different from that in
which it was actually moving.
“Yet art thou prodigal
of smiles--
Smiles, sweeter than
thy frowns are stern;
Earth sends from all
her thousand isles,
A shout at thy return.
The glory that comes
down from thee
Bathes, in deep joy,
the land and sea.”
The Skies It may assist the reader
in understanding the events we are about to record, if he has a rapidly
sketched picture of the scene, placed before his eyes at a single view. It will
be remembered that the lake was an irregularly shaped basin, of an outline
that, in the main, was oval, but with bays and points to relieve its formality
and ornament its shores. The surface of this beautiful sheet of water was now
glittering like a gem, in the last rays of the evening sun, and the setting of
the whole--hills clothed in the richest forest verdure--was lighted up with a
sort of radiant smile, that is best described in the beautiful lines we have
placed at the head of this chapter. As the banks, with few exceptions, rose
abruptly from the water, even where the mountain did not immediately bound the
view, there was a nearly unbroken fringe of leaves overhanging the placid
lake--the trees starting out of the acclivities, inclining to the light, until
in many instances they extended their long limbs and straight trunks some forty
or fifty feet beyond the line of the perpendicular. In these cases we allude
only to the giants of the forest--pines of a hundred or a hundred and fifty
feet in height--for, of the smaller growth, very many inclined so far as to
steep their lower branches in the water.
In the position in
which the ark had now got, the castle was concealed from view by the projection
of a point, as indeed was the northern extremity of the lake itself. A
respectable mountain, forest-clad, and rounded like all the rest, limited the
view in that direction, stretching immediately across the whole of the fair
scene, with the exception of a deep bay that passed its western end,
lengthening the basin, for more than a mile. The manner in which the water
flowed out of the lake, beneath the leafy arches of the trees that lined the
sides of the stream, has already been mentioned, and it has also been said that
the rock, which was a favourite place of rendezvous throughout all that region,
and where Deerslayer now expected to meet his friend, stood near this outlet,
and at no great distance from the shore. It was a large isolated stone, that rested
on the bottom of the lake, apparently left there when the waters tore away the
earth from around it, in forcing for themselves a passage down the river, and
which had obtained its shape from the action of the elements, during the slow
progress of centuries. The height of this rock could scarcely equal six feet,
and, as has been said, its shape was not unlike that which is usually given to
bee-hives, or to a haycock. The latter, indeed, gives the best idea not only of
its form, but of its dimensions. It stood, and still stands, for we are writing
of real scenes, within fifty feet of the bank, and in water that was only two
feet in depth, though there were seasons in which its rounded apex, if such a
term can properly be used, was covered by the lake. Many of the trees stretched
so far forward as almost to blend the rock with the shore, when seen from a
little distance; and one tall pine in particular overhung it in a way to form a
noble and appropriate canopy to a seat that had held many a forest chieftain,
during the long succession of unknown ages, in which America, and all it
contained, had existed apart, in mysterious solitude, a world by itself;
equally without a familiar history, and without an origin that the annals of
man can reach.
When distant some two
or three hundred feet from the shore, Deerslayer took in his sail, and he
dropped his grapnel, as soon as he found the ark had drifted in a line that was
directly to windward of the rock. The motion of the scow was then checked, when
it was brought head to wind, by the action of the breeze. As soon as this was
done, Deerslayer “paid out line,” and suffered the vessel to “set down” upon
the rock, as fast as the light air would force it to leeward. Floating entirely
on the surface, this was soon effected, and the young man checked the drift
when he was told that the stern of the scow was within fifteen or eighteen feet
of the desired spot.
In executing this manœuvre,
Deerslayer had proceeded promptly; for, while he did not in the least doubt
that he was both watched and followed by the foe, he believed he had distracted
their movements, by the apparent uncertainty of his own, and he knew they could
have no means of ascertaining that the rock was his aim, unless, indeed, one of
the prisoners had betrayed him; a chance so improbable in itself, as to give
him no concern. Notwithstanding the celerity and decision of his movements, he
did not, however, venture so near the shore without taking due precautions to
effect a retreat, in the event of its becoming necessary. He held the line in
his hand, and Judith was stationed at a loop, on the side of the cabin next the
shore, where she could watch the beach and the rocks, and give timely notice of
the approach of either friend or foe. Hetty was also placed on watch, but it
was to keep the trees overhead in view, lest some enemy might ascend one, and,
by completely commanding the interior of the scow, render the defences of the
hut, or cabin, useless.
The sun had disappeared
from the lake and valley, when Deerslayer checked the ark, in the manner
mentioned. Still it wanted a few minutes to the true sunset, and he knew Indian
punctuality too well to anticipate any unmanly haste in his friend. The great
question was, whether, surrounded by enemies, as he was known to be, he had
escaped their toils. The occurrences of the last twenty-four hours must be a
secret to him, and, like himself, Chingachgook was yet young on a war-path. It
was true, he came prepared to encounter the party that withheld his promised
bride, but he had no means of ascertaining the extent of the danger he ran, or
the precise positions occupied by either friends or foes. In a word, the
trained sagacity, and untiring caution of an Indian, were all he had to rely
on, amid the critical risks he unavoidably ran.
“Is the rock empty,
judith?” inquired Deerslayer, as soon as he had checked the drift of the ark,
deeming it imprudent to venture unnecessarily near the shore. “Is any thing to
be seen of the Delaware chief?”
“Nothing, Deerslayer.
Neither rock, shore, tree, nor lake, seems to have ever held a human form.”
“Keep close,
Judith--keep close, Hetty--a rifle has a prying eye, a nimble foot, and a
desperate fatal tongue. Keep close then, but keep up actyve looks, and be on
the alart. ’T would grieve me to the heart, did any harm befal either of you.”
“And you, Deerslayer!”
exclaimed Judith, turning her handsome face from the loop, to bestow a gracious
and grateful look on the young man; “do you ‘keep close,’ and have a proper
care that the savages do not catch a glimpse of you! A bullet might be as fatal
to you, as to one of us; and the blow that you felt, would be felt by all.”
“No fear of me,
Judith--no fear of me, my good gal. Do not look this-a-way, although you look
so pleasant and comely, but keep your eyes on the rock, and the shore, and
the--”
Deerslayer was
interrupted by a slight exclamation from the girl, who, in obedience to his
hurried gestures, as much as in obedience to his words, had immediately bent
her looks again, in the opposite direction.
“What is ’t?--what is ’t,
Judith?” he hastily demanded. “Is any thing to be seen?”
“There is a man on the
rock!--an Indian warrior, in his paint, and armed!”
“Where does he wear his
hawk’s feather?” eagerly added Deerslayer, relaxing his hold of the line, in
readiness to drift nearer to the place of rendezvous. “Is it fast to the
warlock, or does he carry it above the left ear?”
“ ’T is as you say,
above the left ear; he smiles, too, and mutters the word ‘Mohican.’ ”
“God be praised, ’t is the
Sarpent, at last!” exclaimed the young man, suffering the line to slip through
his hands, until hearing a light bound, in the other end of the craft, he
instantly checked the rope, and began to haul it in again, under the assurance
that his object was effected.
At that moment the door
of the cabin was opened hastily, and a warrior, darting through the little
room, stood at Deerslayer’s side, simply uttering the exclamation “Hugh!” At
the next instant, Judith and Hetty shrieked, and the air was filled with the
yell of twenty savages, who came leaping through the branches, down the bank,
some actually falling headlong into the water, in their haste.
“Pull, Deerslayer,”
cried Judith, hastily barring the door, in order to prevent an inroad by the
passage through which the Delaware had just entered; “pull, for life and
death-- the lake is full of savages, wading after us!”
The young men--for
Chingachgook immediately came to his friend’s assistance--needed no second
bidding, but they applied themselves to their task in a way that showed how
urgent they deemed the occasion. The great difficulty was in suddenly
overcoming the vis inertiœ of so large a mass; for, once in motion, it was easy
to cause the scow to skim the water, with all the necessary speed.
“Pull, Deerslayer, for
Heaven’s sake!” cried Judith again at the loop. “These wretches rush into the
water like hounds following their prey! Ah!--the scow moves! and, now, the
water deepens to the arm-pits of the foremost, still they rush forward, and
will seize the ark!”
A slight scream, and
then a joyous laugh followed from the girl; the first produced by a desperate
effort of their pursuers, and the last by its failure; the scow, which had now
got fairly in motion, gliding ahead into deep water, with a velocity that set
the designs of their enemies at naught. As the two men were prevented by the
position of the cabin from seeing what passed astern, they were compelled to inquire
of the girls, into the state of the chase.
“What now,
Judith?--what next?--Do the Mingos still follow, or are we quit of ’em, for the
present?” demanded Deerslayer, when he felt the rope yielding, as if the scow
was going fast ahead, and heard the scream, and the laugh of the girl, almost
in the same breath.
“They have
vanished!--one, the last, is just burying himself in the bushes of the
bank--there, he has disappeared in the shadows of the trees! You have got your
friend, and we are all safe!”
The two men now made
another great effort, pulled the ark up swiftly to the grapnel, tripped it, and
when the scow had shot some distance, and lost its way, they let the anchor
drop again; then, for the first time since their meeting, they ceased their efforts.
As the floating house now lay several hundred feet from the shore, and offered
a complete protection against bullets, there was no longer any danger, or any
motive for immediate exertion.
The manner in which the
two friends now recognized each other, was highly characteristic. Chingachgook,
a noble, tall, handsome, and athletic young Indian warrior, first examined his
rifle, with care, opening the pan, to make sure the priming was not wet; and,
assured of this important fact, he next cast furtive but observant glances
around him, at the strange habitation, and at the two girls; still he spoke
not, and most of all, did he avoid the betrayal of a womanish curiosity, by
asking questions.
“Judith and Hetty,”
said Deerslayer, with an untaught, natural courtesy, “this is the Mohican chief
of whom you’ve heard me speak; Chingachgook, as he is called, which signifies
the Big Sarpent; so named for his wisdom, and prudence, and cunning, and my ’arliest
and latest friend. I know’d it must be he, by the hawk’s feather over the left
ear, most other warriors wearing ’em on the war-lock.”
As Deerslayer ceased
speaking, he laughed heartily, excited more perhaps by the delight of having
got his friend safe at his side, under circumstances so trying, than by any
conceit that happened to cross his fancy, and exhibiting this outbreaking of
feeling in a manner that was a little remarkable, since his merriment was not
accompanied by any noise. Although Chingachgook both understood and spoke
English, he was unwilling to communicate his thoughts in it, like most Indians;
and when he had met Judith’s cordial shake of the hand, and Hetty’s milder
salute, in the courteous manner that became a chief, he turned away, apparently
to await the moment when it might suit his friend to enter into an explanation
of his future intentions, and to give a narrative of what had passed since
their separation. The other understood his meaning, and discovered his own mode
of reasoning in the matter, by addressing the girls.
“This wind will soon die
away altogether, now the sun is down,” he said, “and there is no need of rowing
ag’in it. In half an hour, or so, it will either be a flat calm, or the air
will come off from the south shore, when we will begin our journey back ag’in
to the castle; in the meanwhile, the Delaware and I will talk over matters, and
get correct idees of each other’s notions, consarning the course we ought to
take.”
No one opposed this
proposition, and the girls withdrew into the cabin to prepare the evening meal,
while the two young men took their seats on the head of the scow, and began to
converse. The dialogue was in the language of the Delawares. As that dialect,
however, is but little understood, even by the learned, we shall, not only on
this, but on all subsequent occasions, render such parts as it may be necessary
to give closely, into liberal English; preserving, as far as possible, the
idioms and peculiarities of the respective speakers, by way of presenting the
pictures in the most graphic forms to the minds of the readers.
It is unnecessary to
enter into the details first related by Deerslayer, who gave a brief narrative
of the facts that are already familiar to those who have read our pages. In
relating these events, however, it may be well to say that the speaker touched
only on the outlines, more particularly abstaining from saying any thing about
his encounter with, and victory over the Iroquois, as well as to his own
exertions in behalf of the deserted young women. When Deerslayer ended, the
Delaware took up the narrative, in turn, speaking sententiously, and with great
dignity. His account was both clear and short, nor was it embellished by any
incidents that did not directly concern the history of his departure from the
villages of his people, and his arrival in the valley of the Susquehannah. On
reaching the latter, which was at a point only half a mile south of the outlet,
he had soon struck a trail, which gave him notice of the probable vicinity of
enemies. Being prepared for such an occurrence, the object of the expedition
calling him directly into the neighbourhood of the party of Iroquois that was
known to be out, he considered the discovery as fortunate, rather than the
reverse, and took the usual precautions to turn it to account. First following
the river to its source, and ascertaining the position of the rock, he met
another trail, and had actually been hovering for hours on the flanks of his
enemies, watching equally for an opportunity to meet his mistress, and to take
a scalp; and it may be questioned which he most ardently desired. He kept near
the lake, and occasionally he ventured to some spot where he could get a view
of what was passing on its surface. The ark had been seen and watched, from the
moment it hove in sight, though the young chief was necessarily ignorant that
it was to be the instrument of effecting the desired juncture with his friend.
The uncertainty of its movements, and the fact that it was unquestionably
managed by white men, led him to conjecture the truth, however, and he held himself
in readiness to get on board whenever a suitable occasion might offer. As the
sun drew near the horizon, he repaired to the rock, where, on emerging from the
forest, he was gratified in finding the ark lying, apparently in readiness to
receive him. The manner of his appearance, and of his entrance into the craft,
is known.
Although Chingachgook
had been closely watching his enemies for hours, their sudden and close
pursuit, as he reached the scow, was as much a matter of surprise to himself,
as it had been to his friend. He could only account for it, by the fact of
their being more numerous than he had at first supposed, and by their having
out parties, of the existence of which he was ignorant. Their regular, and
permanent encampment, if the word permanent can be applied to the residence of
a party that intended to remain out, in all probability, but a few weeks, was
not far from the spot where Hutter and Hurry had fallen into their hands, and,
as a matter of course, near a spring.
“Well, Sarpent,” asked
Deerslayer, when the other had ended his brief but spirited narrative, speaking
always in the Delaware tongue, which for the reader’s convenience only, we
render into the peculiar vernacular of the speaker. “Well, Sarpent, as you’ve
been scouting around these Mingos, have you any thing to tell us of their
captyves; the father of these young women, and another, who, I somewhat
conclude, is the lovyer of one of ’em.”
“Chingachgook has seen
them. An old man, and a young warrior--the falling hemlock, and the tall pine.”
“You ’re not so much
out, Delaware; you ’re not so much out. Old Hutter is decaying, of a sartainty,
though many solid blocks might be hewn out of his trunk yet; and, as for Hurry
Harry, so far as height, and strength, and comeliness go, he may be called the
pride of the human forest. Were the men bound, or, in any manner, suffering
torture? I ask on account of the young women; who, I dare to say, would be glad
to know.”
“It is not so,
Deerslayer. The Mingos are too many to cage their game. Some watch; some sleep;
some scout; some hunt. The pale-faces are treated like brothers to-day;
to-morrow they will lose their scalps.”
“Yes, that’s red natur’,
and must be submitted to! Judith and Hetty, here’s comforting tidings for you,
the Delaware telling me that neither your father nor Hurry Harry is in
suffering; but, bating the loss of liberty, as well off, as we are ourselves.
Of course they are kept in the camp; otherwise they do much as they please.”
“I rejoice to hear
this, Deerslayer,” returned Judith, “and now we are joined by your friend, I
make no manner of question that we shall find an opportunity to ransom the
prisoners. If there are any women in the camp, I have articles of dress that
will catch their eyes; and, should the worst come to the worst, we can open the
good chest, which, I think will be found to hold things that may tempt the
chiefs.”
“Judith,” said the
young man, looking up at her with a smile, and an expression of earnest
curiosity, that, spite of the growing obscurity, did not escape the watchful
looks of the girl, “can you find it in your heart, to part with your own
finery, to release prisoners; even though one be your own father, and the other
is your sworn suitor and lovyer?”
The flush on the face
of the girl arose in part from resentment, but more perhaps from a gentler and
novel feeling, that, with the capricious way wardness of taste, had been
rapidly rendering her more sensitive to the good opinion of the youth who
questioned her, than to that of any other person. Suppressing the angry
sensation, with instinctive quickness, she answered with a readiness and truth,
that caused her sister to draw near to listen, though the obtuse intellect of
the latter was far from comprehending the workings of a heart as treacherous,
as uncertain, and as impetuous in its feelings, as that of the spoiled and
flattered beauty.
“Deerslayer,” answered
Judith, after a moment’s pause; “I shall be honest with you. I confess, that
the time has been when what you call finery, was to me the dearest thing on
earth; but I begin to feel differently. Though Hurry Harry is naught to me, nor
ever can be, I would give all I own to set him free. If I would do this, for
blustering, bullying, talking Hurry, who has nothing but good looks to recommend
him, you may judge what I would do for my own father.”
“This sounds well, and
is according to woman’s gifts. Ah ’s me! The same feelin’s is to be found among
the young women of the Delawares. I’ve known ’em, often and often, sacrifice
their vanity to their hearts. ’T is as it should be--’t is as it should be I
suppose, in both colours. Woman was created for the feelin’s, and is pretty
much ruled by feelin’!”
“Would the savages let
father go, if Judith and I gave them all our best things?” demanded Hetty, in
her innocent, mild, manner.
“Their women might
interfere, good Hetty; yes, their women might interfere with such an ind in
view. But, tell me, Sarpent, how is it as to squaws among the knaves; have they
many of their own women in the camp?”
the tree tops, and the
rippling of a stream from a full, sparkling, natyve fountain of pure fresh
water; unless, indeed,” he continued, dropping his head for an instant in a
thoughtful manner; “unless, indeed, it be the open mouth of a sartain hound,
when I’m on the track of a fat buck. As for unsartain dogs, I care little for
their cries, seein’ they are as likely to speak when the deer is not in sight,
as when it is.”
Judith walked slowly
and pensively away, nor was there any of her ordinary calculating coquetry, in
the light tremulous sigh, that, unconsciously to herself, arose to her lips. On
the other hand, Hetty listened with guileless attention; though it struck her
simple mind as singular, that the young man should prefer the melody of the
woods, to the songs of girls, or even to the laugh of innocence and joy.
Accustomed, however, to defer, in most things, to her sister, she soon followed
Judith into the cabin, where she took a seat, and remained pondering intensely
over some occurrence, or resolution, or opinion, which was a secret to all but
herself. Left alone, Deerslayer and his friend resumed their discourse.
“Has the young
pale-face hunter been long on this lake?” demanded the Delaware, after
courteously waiting for the other to speak first.
“Only since yesterday
noon, Sarpent; though that has been long enough to see and do much.”
The gaze that the
Indian fastened on his companion was so keen, that it seemed to mock the
gathering darkness of the night. As the other furtively returned his look, he
saw the two black eyes glistening on him, like the balls of the panther, or
those of the penned wolf. He understood the meaning of this glowing gaze, and
answered evasively, as he fancied would best become the modesty of a white man’s
gifts.
“ ’T is as you suspect,
Sarpent; yes, ’t is somewhat that-a-way. I have fell in with the inimy, and I
suppose it may be said I’ve fou’t them, too.”
An exclamation of
delight and exultation escaped the Indian; and then, laying his hand eagerly on
the arm of his friend, he asked if there were any scalps taken.
“That I will maintain,
in the face of all the Delaware tribe, old Tamenund, and your father, the great
Uncas, as well as the rest, is ag’in white gifts! My scalp is on my head, as
you can see, Sarpent, and that was the only scalp that was in danger, when one
side was altogether Christian and white.”
“Did no warrior
fall?--Deerslayer did not get his name, by being slow of sight, or clumsy with
the rifle!”
“In that particular,
chief, you ’re nearer reason, and therefore nearer being right. I may say one
Mingo fell.”
“A chief!” demanded the
other, with startling vehemence.
“Nay, that’s more than
I know, or can say. He was artful, and treacherous, and stout-hearted, and may
well have gained popularity enough with his people to be named to that rank.
The man fou’t well, though his eye was’n’t quick enough for one who had had his
schooling in your company, Delaware.”
“My brother and friend
struck the body?”
“That was uncalled for,
seeing that the Mingo died in my arms. The truth may as well be said, at once;
he fou’t like a man of red gifts, and I fou’t like a man with gifts of my own
colour. God gave me the victory; I could’nt fly in the face of his providence
by forgetting my birth and natur’. White he made me, and white I must live and
die.”
“Good! Deerslayer is a
pale-face, and has pale-face hands. A Delaware will look for the scalp, and
hang it on a pole, and sing a song in his honour, when we go back to our
people. The honour belongs to the tribe; it must not be lost.”
“This is easy talking,
but ’t will not be as easy doing. The Mingo’s body is in the hands of his fri’nds,
and, no doubt, is hid in some hole, where Delaware cunning will never be able
to get at the scalp.”
The young man then gave
his friend a succinct, but clear account of the event of the morning,
concealing nothing of any moment, and yet touching on every thing modestly, and
with a careful attention to avoid the Indian habit of boasting. Chingachgook
again expressed his satisfaction at the honour won by his friend, and then both
arose, the hour having arrived when it became prudent to move the ark further
from the land.
It was now quite dark;
the heavens having become clouded, and the stars hid. The north wind had
ceased, as was usual, with the setting of the sun, and a light air arose from
the south. This change favouring the design of Deerslayer, he lifted his
grapnel, and the scow immediately and quite perceptibly began to drift more
into the lake. The sail was set, when the motion of the craft increased to a
rate not much less than two miles in the hour. As this superseded the necessity
of rowing--an occupation that an Indian would not be likely to desire--Deerslayer,
Chingachgook and Judith seated themselves in the stern of the scow, where the
first governed its movements by holding the oar. Here they discoursed on their
future movements, and on the means that ought to be used in order to effect the
liberation of their friends.
In this dialogue Judith
held a material part; the Delaware readily understanding all she said, while
his own replies and remarks, both of which were few and pithy, were
occasionally rendered into English by his friend. Judith rose greatly in the
estimation of her companion, in the half hour that followed. Prompt of
resolution and firm of purpose, her suggestions and expedients partook of her
spirit and sagacity, both of which were of a character to find favour with men
of the frontier. The events that had occurred since their meeting, as well as
her isolated and dependent situation, induced the girl to feel towards
Deerslayer like the friend of a year, instead of an acquaintance of a day; and
so completely had she been won by his guileless truth of character and of
feeling--pure novelties in our sex, as respected her own experience--that his
peculiarities had excited her curiosity, and created a confidence that had
never been awakened by any other man. Hitherto she had been compelled to stand
on the defensive, in her intercourse with men,--with what success was best
known to herself; but here had she been suddenly thrown into the society, and
under the protection of a youth, who evidently as little contemplated evil
towards herself, as if he had been her brother. The freshness of his integrity,
the poetry and truth of his feelings, and even the quaintness of his forms of
speech, all had their influence, and aided in awakening an interest that she
found as pure as it was sudden and deep. Hurry’s fine face and manly form had
never compensated for his boisterous and vulgar turn; and her intercourse with
the officers had prepared her to make comparisons under which even his great
natural advantages suffered. But this very intercourse with the officers who
occasionally came upon the lake to fish and hunt, had an effect in producing
her present sentiments towards the young stranger. With them, while her vanity
had been gratified, and her self-love strongly awakened, she had many causes
deeply to regret the acquaintance--if not to mourn over it, in secret sorrow
--for it was impossible for one of her quick intellect not to perceive how
hollow was the association between superior and inferior, and that she was
regarded as the plaything of an idle hour, rather than as an equal and a
friend, by even the best intentioned and least designing of her scarlet-clad
admirers. Deerslayer, on the other hand, had a window in his breast, through
which the light of his honesty was ever shining; and even his indifference to
charms that so rarely failed to produce a sensation, piqued the pride of the
girl, and gave him an interest that another, seemingly more favoured by nature,
might have failed to excite.
In this manner half an
hour passed, during which time the ark had been slowly stealing over the water,
the darkness thickening around it; though it was easy to see that the gloom of
the forest at the southern end of the lake, was getting to be distant, while
the mountains that lined the sides of the beautiful basin were overshadowing
it, nearly from side to side. There was, indeed, a narrow stripe of water, in
the centre of the lake, where the dim light that was still shed from the
heavens fell upon its surface, in a line extending north and south; and along this
faint track--a sort of inverted milky-way, in which the obscurity was not quite
as dense as in other places--the scow held her course, he who steered well
knowing that it led in the direction he wished to go. The reader is not to
suppose, however, that any difficulty could exist as to the course. This would
have been determined by that of the air, had it not been possible to
distinguish the mountains, as well as by the dim opening to the south, which
marked the position of the valley in that quarter, above the plain of tall
trees, by a sort of lessened obscurity; the difference between the darkness of
the forest, and that of the night, as seen only in the air. The peculiarities
at length caught the attention of Judith and the Deerslayer, and the conversation
ceased, to allow each to gaze at the solemn stillness and deep repose of
nature.
“ ‘T is a gloomy night,”
observed the girl, after a pause of several minutes. “I hope we may be able to
find the castle.”
“Little fear of our
missing that, if we keep this path, in the middle of the lake,” returned the
young man. “Natur’ has made us a road here, and, dim as it is, there’ll be
little difficulty in following it.”
“Do you hear nothing,
Deerslayer? It seemed as if the water was stirring quite near us!”
“Sartainly something
did move the water, oncommon like; it must have been a fish. Them creatur’s
prey upon each other like men, and animals on the land; one has leaped into the
air, and fallen back hard, into his own element. ’T is of little use, Judith,
for any to strive to get out of their elements, since it’s natur’ to stay in ’em;
and natur’ will have its way. Ha! that sounds like a paddle, used with more
than common caution!”
At this moment the
Delaware bent forward, and pointed significantly into the boundary of gloom, as
if some object had suddenly caught his eye. Both Deerslayer and Judith followed
the direction of his gesture, and each got a view of a canoe at the same
instant. The glimpse of this startling neighbour was dim, and, to eyes less
practised, it might have been uncertain; though to those in the ark, the object
was evidently a canoe, with a single individual in it; the latter standing
erect and paddling. How many lay concealed in its bottom, of course could not
be known. Flight, by means of oars, from a bark canoe impelled by vigorous and
skilful hands, was utterly impracticable, and each of the men seized his rifle,
in expectation of a conflict.
“I can easily bring
down the paddler,” whispered Deerslayer, “but we’ll first hail him, and ask his
ar’n’d.” Then raising his voice, he continued in a solemn manner, “Hold! If you
come nearer, I must fire, though contrary to my wishes; and then sartain death
will follow. Stop paddling, and answer!”
“Fire, and slay a poor,
defenceless girl,” returned a soft tremulous female voice, “and God will never
forgive you! Go your way, Deerslayer, and let me go mine.”
“Hetty!” exclaimed the
young man and Judith in a breath; and the former sprang instantly to the spot
where he had left the canoe they had been towing. It was gone, and he
understood the whole affair. As for the fugitive, frightened at the menace, she
ceased paddling, and remained dimly visible, resembling a spectral outline of a
human form, standing on the water. At the next moment, the sail was lowered, to
prevent the ark from passing the spot where the canoe lay. This last expedient,
however, was not taken in time; for the momentum of so heavy a craft, and the
impulsion of the air, soon set her by; bringing Hetty directly to windward,
though still visible, as the change in the positions of the two boats now
placed her in that species of milky-way which has been mentioned.
“What can this mean,
Judith?” demanded Deerslayer. “Why has your sister taken the canoe, and left
us?”
“You know she is feeble-minded,
poor girl! and she has her own ideas of what ought to be done. She loves her
father more than most children love their parents--and then--”
“Then, what, gal? This
is a trying moment; one in which truth must be spoken!”
Judith felt a generous
and womanly regret at betraying her sister, and she hesitated ere she spoke
again. But once more urged by Deerslayer, and conscious herself of all the
risks the whole party was running by the indiscretion of Hetty, she could
refrain no longer.
“Then, I fear, poor,
weak-minded Hetty has not been altogether able to see the vanity, and madness,
and folly, that lie hid behind the handsome face and fine form of Hurry Harry.
She talks of him, in her sleep, and sometimes betrays the inclination in her
waking moments.”
“You think, Judith,
that your sister is now bent on some mad scheme to serve her father and Hurry,
which will, in all likelihood, give them riptyles, the Mingos, the mastership
of a canoe?”
“Such, I fear, will
turn out to be the fact, Deerslayer. Poor Hetty has hardly sufficient cunning
to outwit a savage.”
All this while, the
canoe, with the form of Hetty, erect in one end of it, was dimly perceptible;
though the greater drift of the ark, rendered it, at each instant, less and
less distinct. It was evident no time was to be lost, lest it should altogether
disappear. The rifles were now laid aside, as useless; and then the two men
seized the oars, and began to sweep the head of the scow round, in the
direction of the canoe. Judith, accustomed to the office, flew to the other end
of the ark, and placed herself at what might be called the helm. Hetty took the
alarm, at these preparations, which could not be made without noise, and
started off like a bird, that had been suddenly put up by the approach of
unexpected danger.
As Deerslayer and his
companion rowed with the energy of those who felt the necessity of straining
every nerve, and Hetty’s strength was impaired by a nervous desire to escape,
the chase would have quickly terminated in the capture of the fugitive, had not
the girl made several short and unlooked-for deviations in her course. These
turnings gave her time, and they had also the effect of gradually bringing both
canoe and ark within the deeper gloom, cast by the shadows from the hills. They
also gradually increased the distance between the fugitive and her pursuers,
until Judith called out to her companions to cease rowing, for she had
completely lost sight of the canoe.
When this mortifying
announcement was made, Hetty was actually so near as to understand every
syllable her sister uttered; though the latter had used the precaution of
speaking as low as circumstances would allow her to do, and to make herself
heard. Hetty stopped paddling at the same moment, and waited the result with an
impatience that was breathless, equally from her late exertions, and her desire
to land. A dead silence immediately fell on the lake; during which the three in
the ark were using their senses differently, in order to detect the position of
the canoe. Judith leant forward to listen, in the hope of catching some sound
that might betray the direction in which her sister was stealing away; while
her two companions brought their eyes, as near as possible, to a level with the
water, in order to detect any object that might be floating on its surface. All
was vain, however, for neither sound, nor sight, rewarded their efforts. All
this time, Hetty, who had not the cunning to sink into the canoe, stood erect,
a finger pressed on her lips, gazing in the direction in which the voices had
been heard, resembling a statue of profound and timid attention. Her ingenuity
had barely sufficed to enable her to seize the canoe, and to quit the ark, in
the nioseless manner related; and then it appeared to be momentarily exhausted.
Even the doublings of the canoe had been as much the consequence of an
uncertain hand, and of nervous agitation, as of any craftiness, or calculation.
The pause continued
several minutes; during which Deerslayer and the Delaware conferred together,
in the language of the latter. Then the oars dipped, again, and the ark moved
away, rowing with as little noise as possible. It steered westward, a little
southerly, or in the direction of the encampment of the enemy. Having reached a
point, at no great distance from the shore, and where the obscurity was
intense, on account of the proximity of the land, it lay there near an hour, in
waiting for the expected approach of Hetty; who, it was thought, would make the
best of her way to that spot, as soon as she believed herself relieved from the
danger of pursuit. No success rewarded this little blockade, however; neither
appearance nor sound denoting the passage of the canoe. Disappointed at this
failure, and conscious of the importance of getting possession of the fortress,
before it could be seized by the enemy, Deerslayer now took his way towards the
castle, with the apprehension that all his foresight in securing the canoes,
would be defeated, by this unguarded and alarming movement on the part of the
feebleminded Hetty.
“--But who in this wild wood May
credit give to either eye, or ear?
From rocky precipice or
hollow cave,
’Midst the confused
sound of rustling leaves,
And crackling boughs,
and cries of nightly birds,
Returning seeming
answer!”
Joanna Baillie. Fear, as
much as calculation, had induced Hetty to cease paddling, when she found that
her pursuers did not know in which direction to proceed. She remained
stationary, until the ark had pulled in near the encampment, as has been
related in the preceding chapter; when she resumed the paddle, and with
cautious strokes made the best of her way towards the western shore. In order
to avoid her pursuers, however, who, she rightly suspected, would soon be
rowing along that shore themselves, the head of the canoe was pointed so far
north, as to bring her to land on a point that thrust itself into the lake, at
the distance of near a league from the outlet. Nor was this altogether the
result of a desire to escape; for, feeble-minded as she was, Hetty Hutter had a
good deal of that instinctive caution, which so often keeps those whom God has
thus visited from harm. She was perfectly aware of the importance of keeping
the canoes from falling into the hands of the Iroquois; and long familiarity
with the lake had suggested one of the simplest expedients, by which this great
object could be rendered compatible with her own purpose.
The point in question,
was the first projection that offered on that side of the lake, where a canoe,
if set adrift with a southerly air, would float clear of the land; and where it
would be no great violation of probabilities to suppose it might even hit the
castle; the latter lying above it, almost in a direct line with the wind. Such
then was Hetty’s intention; and she landed on the extremity of the gravelly
point, beneath an overhanging oak, with the express intention of shoving the
canoe off from the shore, in order that it might drift up towards her father’s
insulated abode. She knew, too, from the logs that occasionally floated about
the lake, that did it miss the castle, and its appendages, that the wind would
be likely to change before the canoe could reach the northern extremity of the
lake, and that Deerslayer might have an opportunity of regaining it, in the
morning, when no doubt he would be earnestly sweeping the surface of the water,
and the whole of its wooded shores, with the glass. In all this, too, Hetty was
less governed by any chain of reasoning, than by her habits; the latter often supplying
the defects of mind, in human beings, as they perform the same office for
animals of the inferior classes.
The girl was quite an
hour finding her way to the point; the distance and the obscurity equally
detaining her; but she was no sooner on the gravelly beach, than she prepared
to set the canoe adrift, in the manner mentioned. While in the act of pushing
it from her, she heard low voices, that seemed to come from among the trees
behind her. Startled at this unexpected danger, Hetty was on the point of
springing into the canoe again, in order to seek safety in flight, when she
thought she recognized the tones of Judith’s melodious voice. Bending forward,
so as to catch the sounds more directly, they evidently came from the water;
and then she understood that the ark was approaching from the south, and so
close in with the western shore, as necessarily to cause it to pass the point,
within twenty yards of the spot where she stood. Here, then, was all she could
desire; the canoe was shoved off into the lake, leaving its late occupant alone
on the narrow strand.
When this act of
self-devotion was performed, Hetty did not retire. The foliage of the
overhanging trees and bushes would have almost concealed her person, had there
been light; but in that obscurity, it was utterly impossible to discover any
object thus shaded, at the distance of a few feet. Flight, too, was perfectly
easy, as twenty steps would effectually bury her in the forest. She remained,
therefore, watching with intense anxiety, the result of her expedient,
intending to call the attention of the others to the canoe, with her voice,
should they appear to pass without observing it. The ark approached under its
sail, again; Deerslayer standing in its bow, with Judith near him, and the
Delaware at the helm. It would seem that, in the bay below, it had got too
close to the shore, in the lingering hope of intercepting Hetty; for, as it
came nearer, the latter distinctly heard the directions that the young man
forward, gave to his companion, in order to clear the point.
“Lay her head more off
the shore, Delaware,” said Deerslayer, for the third time, speaking in English,
that his fair companion might understand his words; “lay her head well off
shore. We have got embayed here, and needs keep the mast clear of the trees.
Judith, there’s a canoe!”
The last words were
uttered with great earnestness, and Deerslayer’s hand was on his rifle, ere
they were fairly out of his mouth. But the truth flashed on the mind of the
quick-witted girl, and she instantly told her companion that the boat must be
that in which her sister had fled.
“Keep the scow
straight, Delaware; steer as straight as your bullet flies when sent ag’in a
buck; there,--I have it.”
The canoe was seized,
and immediately secured again to the side of the ark. At the next moment the
sail was lowered, and the motion of the ark arrested, by means of the oars.
“Hetty!” called out
Judith, concern, even affection betraying itself in her tones; “are you within
hearing, sister--for God’s sake answer, and let me hear the sound of your
voice, again! Hetty!--dear Hetty.”
“I’m here,
Judith--here, on the shore, where it will be useless to follow me; as I will
hide in the woods.”
“Oh! Hetty, what is’t
you do! Remember ’t is drawing near midnight, and that the woods are filled
with savages and wild beasts!”
“Neither will harm a
poor half-witted girl, Judith. God is as much with me, here, as he would be in
the ark, or in the hut. I am going to help my father, and poor Hurry Harry; who
will be tortured and slain, unless some one cares for them.”
“We all care for them,
and intend to-morrow to send them a flag of truce, to buy their ransom. Come
back then, sister; trust to us, who have better heads than you, and who will do
all we can for father.”
“I know your head is
better than mine, Judith, for mine is very weak, to be sure; but, I must go to
father and poor Hurry. Do you and Deerslayer keep the castle, sister; leave me
in the hands of God.”
“God is with us all,
Hetty--in the castle, or on the shore --father as well as ourselves; and it is
sinful not to trust to his goodness. You can do nothing in the dark; will lose
your way in the forest, and perish for want of food.”
“God will not let that
happen to a poor child that goes to serve her father, sister. I must try and
find the savages.”
“Come back, for this
night only; in the morning, we will put you ashore, and leave you to do as you
may think right.”
“You say so, Judith,
and you think so; but you would not. Your heart would soften, and you’d see
tomahawks and scalping-knives in the air. Besides, I’ve got a thing to tell the
Indian chief, that will answer all our wishes; and I’m afraid I may forget it,
if I don’t tell it to him at once. You’ll see that he will let father go, as
soon as he hears it!”
“Poor Hetty! What can
you say to a ferocious savage, that will be likely to change his bloody
purpose!”
“That which will
frighten him, and make him let father go,” returned the simple-minded girl,
positively. “You’ll see, sister; you’ll see, how soon it will bring him to,
like a gentle child!”
“Will you tell me,
Hetty, what you intend to say?” asked Deerslayer; “I know the savages well, and
can form some idee how far fair words will be likely, or not, to work on their
bloody natur’s. If it’s not suited to the gifts of a red-skin, ’t will be of no
use; for reason goes by gifts, as well as conduct.”
“Well, then,” answered
Hetty, dropping her voice to a low, confidential tone; for the stillness of the
night, and the nearness of the ark, permitted her to do this, and still to be
heard. “Well, then, Deerslayer, as you seem a good and honest young man, I will
tell you. I mean not to say a word to any of the savages, until I get face to
face with their head chief, let them plague me with as many questions as they
please; no--I’ll answer none of them, unless it be to tell them to lead me to
their wisest man. Then, Deerslayer, I’ll tell him that God will not forgive
murder, and thefts; and that if father and Hurry did go after the scalps of the
Iroquois, he must return good for evil, for so the Bible commands, else he will
go into everlasting punishment. When he hears this, and feels it to be true, as
feel it he must; how long will it be before he sends father, and Hurry, and me,
to the shore, opposite the castle; telling us all three to go our way in peace?”
The last question was
put in a triumphant manner; and then the simple-minded girl laughed at the
impression she never doubted that her project had made on her auditors.
Deerslayer was dumb-founded at this proof of guileless feebleness of mind; but
Judith had suddenly bethought her of a means of counteracting this wild
project, by acting on the very feelings that had given it birth. Without
adverting to the closing question, or the laugh, therefore, she hurriedly
called to her sister by name, as one suddenly impressed with the importance of
what she had to say. But no answer was given to the call.
By the snapping of
twigs, and the rustling of leaves, Hetty had evidently quitted the shore, and
was already burying herself in the forest. To follow would have been bootless,
since the darkness, as well as the dense cover that the woods everywhere
afforded, would have rendered her capture next to impossible; and there was
also the never-ceasing danger of falling into the hands of their enemies. After
a short and melancholy discussion, therefore, the sail was again set, and the
ark pursued its course towards its habitual moorings; Deerslayer silently
felicitating himself on the recovery of the canoe, and brooding over his plans
for the morrow. The wind rose as the party quitted the point, and in less than
an hour they reached the castle. Here all was found, as it had been left; and
the reverse of the ceremonies had to be taken, in entering the building, that
had been used on quitting it. Judith occupied a solitary bed that night,
bedewing the pillow with her tears, as she thought of the innocent and hitherto
neglected creature, who had been her companion, from childhood; and bitter
regrets came over her mind, from more causes than one, as the weary hours
passed away, making it nearly morning before she lost her recollection in
sleep. Deerslayer and the Delaware took their rest in the ark, where we shall
leave them enjoying the deep sleep of the honest, the healthful and fearless,
to return to the girl we have last seen in the midst of the forest.
When Hetty left the
shore, she took her way unhesitatingly into the woods, with a nervous
apprehension of being followed. Luckily, this course was the best she could
have hit on to effect her own purpose, since it was the only one that led her
from the point. The night was so intensely dark, beneath the branches of the
trees, that her progress was very slow, and the direction she went altogether a
matter of chance, after the first few yards. The formation of the ground,
however, did not permit her to deviate far from the line in which she desired
to proceed. On one hand, it was soon bounded by the acclivity of the hill;
while the lake, on the other, served as a guide. For two hours did this
single-hearted and simple-minded girl toil through the mazes of the forest;
sometimes finding herself on the brow of the bank that bounded the water, and
at others struggling up an ascent that warned her to go no farther in that
direction, since it necessarily ran at right angles to the course on which she
wished to proceed. Her feet often slid from beneath her, and she got many
falls, though none to do her injury; but, by the end of the period mentioned,
she had become so weary as to want strength to go any farther. Rest was
indispensable; and she set about preparing a bed, with the readiness and
coolness of one to whom the wilderness presented no unnecessary terrors. She
knew that wild beasts roamed through all the adjacent forest, but animals that
preyed on the human species were rare, and of dangerous serpents there were
literally none. These facts had been taught her by her father; and whatever her
feeble mind received at all, it received so confidingly as to leave her no
uneasiness from any doubts, or scepticism. To her the sublimity of the solitude
in which she was placed, was soothing, rather than appalling; and she gathered
a bed of leaves, with as much indifference to the circumstances that would have
driven the thoughts of sleep entirely from the minds of most of her sex, as if
she had been preparing her place of nightly rest, beneath the paternal roof.
As soon as Hetty had
collected a sufficient number of the dried leaves to protect her person from
the damps of the ground, she kneeled beside the humble pile, clasped her raised
hands in an attitude of deep devotion, and in a soft, low, but audible voice,
repeated the Lord’s prayer. This was followed by those simple and devout
verses, so familiar to children, in which she recommended her soul to God,
should it be called away to another state of existence, ere the return of
morning. This duty done, she lay down and disposed herself to sleep. The attire
of the girl, though suited to the season, was sufficiently warm for all
ordinary purposes; but the forest is ever cool, and the nights of that elevated
region of country, have always a freshness about them, that renders clothing
more necessary than is commonly the case in the summers of a low latitude. This
had been foreseen by Hetty, who had brought with her a coarse heavy mantle,
which, when laid over her body, answered all the useful purposes of a blanket.
Thus protected, she dropped asleep, in a few minutes, as tranquilly as if
watched over by the guardian care of that mother, who had so recently been
taken from her for ever--affording, in this particular, a most striking
contrast between her own humble couch, and the sleepless pillow of her sister.
Hour passed after hour,
in a tranquillity as undisturbed and a rest as sweet, as if angels, expressly
commissioned for that object, watched around the bed of Hetty Hutter. Not once
did her soft eyes open, until the grey of the dawn came struggling through the
tops of the trees, falling on their lids, and, united to the freshness of a
summer’s morning, giving the usual summons to awake. Ordinarily, Hetty was up
ere the rays of the sun tipped the summits of the mountains; but on this
occasion her fatigue had been so great, and her rest was so profound, that the
customary warnings failed of their effect. The girl murmured in her sleep,
threw an arm forward, smiled as gently as an infant in its cradle, but still
slumbered. In making this unconscious gesture, her hand fell on some object
that was warm, and, in the half unconscious state in which she lay, she
connected the circumstance with her habits. At the next moment, a rude attack
was made on her side, as if a rooting animal were thrusting its snout beneath,
with a desire to force her position; and then, uttering the name of “Judith,”
she awoke. As the startled girl arose to a sitting attitude, she perceived that
some dark object sprang from her, scattering the leaves and snapping the fallen
twigs in its haste. Opening her eyes, and recovering from the first confusion
and astonishment of her situation, Hetty perceived a cub, of the common
American brown bear, balancing itself on its hinder legs, and still looking
towards her, as if doubtful whether it would be safe to trust itself near her
person again. The first impulse of Hetty, who had been mistress of several of
these cubs, was to run and seize the little creature as a prize, but a loud
growl warned her of the danger of such a procedure. Recoiling a few steps, the
girl looked hurriedly round, and perceived the dam, watching her movements,
with fiery eyes, at no great distance. A hollow tree, that had once been the
home of bees, having recently fallen, the mother, with two more cubs, was
feasting on the dainty food that this accident had placed within her reach;
while the first kept a jealous eye on the situation of its truant and reckless
young.
It would exceed all the
means of human knowledge to pretend to analyze the influences that govern the
acts of the lower animals. On this occasion, the dam, though proverbially
fierce when its young is thought to be in danger, manifested no intention to
attack the girl. It quitted the honey, and advanced to a place within twenty
feet of her, where it raised itself on its hinder legs, and balanced its body
in a sort of angry, growling discontent, but approached no nearer. Happily,
Hetty did not fly. On the contrary, though not without terror, she knelt with
her face towards the animal, and with clasped hands and uplifted eyes, repeated
the prayer of the previous night. This act of devotion was not the result of
alarm; but it was a duty she never neglected to perform ere she slept, and when
the return of consciousness awoke her to the business of the day. As the girl
arose from her knees, the bear dropped on its feet again, and collecting its
cubs around her, permitted them to draw their natural sustenance. Hetty was
delighted with this proof of tenderness in an animal that has but a very
indifferent reputation for the gentler feelings; and as a cub would quit its
mother to frisk and leap about in wantonness, she felt a strong desire again to
catch it up in her arms, and play with it. But admonished by the growl, she had
self-command sufficient not to put this dangerous project in execution; and,
recollecting her errand among the hills, she tore herself away from the group,
and proceeded on her course, along the margin of the lake, of which she now
caught glimpses again through the trees. To her surprise, though not to her
alarm, the family of bears arose and followed her steps, keeping a short
distance behind her; apparently watching every movement, as if they had a near
interest in all she did.
In this manner,
escorted by the dam and cubs, the girl proceeded nearly a mile, thrice the
distance she had been able to achieve in the darkness, during the same period
of time. She then reached a brook that had dug a channel for itself into the
earth, and went brawling into the lake, between steep and high banks, covered
with trees. Here, Hetty performed her ablutions; then drinking of the pure mountain-water,
she went her way, refreshed and lighter of heart, still attended by her
singular companions. Her course now lay along a broad and nearly level terrace,
which stretched from the top of the bank that bounded the water, to a low
acclivity that rose to a second and irregular platform above. This was at a
part of the valley where the mountains ran obliquely, forming the commencement
of a plain that spread between the hills, southward of the sheet of water.
Hetty knew, by this circumstance, that she was getting near to the encampment,
and had she not, the bears would have given her warning of the vicinity of
human beings. Snuffing the air, the dam refused to follow any further, though
the girl looked back and invited her to come by childish signs, and even by
direct appeals made in her own sweet voice. It was while making her way slowly
through some bushes, in this manner, with averted face and eyes riveted on the
immovable animals, that the girl suddenly found her steps arrested by a human
hand, that was laid lightly on her shoulder.
“Where go?” said a soft
female voice, speaking hurriedly, and in concern. “Indian--red-man--savage--wicked
warrior--that-a-way.”
This unexpected
salutation alarmed the girl no more than the presence of the fierce inhabitants
of the woods. It took her a little by surprise, it is true, but she was in a
measure prepared for some such meeting; and the creature who stopped her, was
as little likely to excite terror as any who ever appeared in the guise of an
Indian. It was a girl, not much older than herself, whose smile was sunny as
Judith’s in her brightest moments, whose voice was melody itself, and whose
accents and manner had all the rebuked gentleness that characterizes the sex
among a people who habitually treat their women as the attendants and servitors
of the warriors. Beauty among the women of the aboriginal Americans, before
they have become exposed to the hardships of wives and mothers, is by no means
uncommon. In this particular, the original owners of the country were not
unlike their more civilized successors; nature appearing to have bestowed that
delicacy of mien and outline that forms so great a charm in the youthful
female, but of which they are so early deprived; and that too, as much by the
habits of domestic life, as from any other cause.
The girl who had so
suddenly arrested the steps of Hetty, was dressed in a calico mantle, that
effectually protected all the upper part of her person, while a short petticoat
of blue cloth edged with gold lace, that fell no lower than her knees, leggings
of the same, and moccasins of deer-skin, completed her attire. Her hair fell in
long dark braids down her shoulders and back, and was parted above a low smooth
forehead, in a way to soften the expression of eyes that were full of archness
and natural feeling. Her face was oval, with delicate features; the teeth were
even and white, while the mouth expressed a melancholy tenderness, as if it
wore this peculiar meaning in intuitive perception of the fate of a being who
was doomed from birth to endure a woman’s sufferings, relieved by a woman’s
affections. Her voice, as has been already intimated, was soft as the sighing
of the night air, a characteristic of the females of her race, but which was so
conspicuous in herself as to have procured for her the name of Wah-ta!-Wah;
which rendered into English means Hist-oh!-Hist.
In a word, this was the
betrothed of Chingachgook; who having succeeded in lulling their suspicions,
was permitted to wander around the encampment of her captors. This indulgence
was in accordance with the general policy of the red-man, who well knew,
moreover, that her trail could have been followed, in the event of flight. It
will also be remembered that the Iroquois, or Hurons, as it would be better to
call them, were entirely ignorant of the proximity of her lover; a fact,
indeed, that she did not know herself.
It is not easy to say
which manifested the most self-possession at this unexpected meeting; the
pale-face, or the red-girl. But, though a little surprised, Wah-ta!-Wah was the
most willing to speak, and far the readier in foreseeing consequences, as well
as in devising means to avert them. Her father, during her childhood, had been
much employed as a warrior, by the authorities of the colony; and dwelling for
several years near the forts, she had caught a knowledge of the English tongue,
which she spoke, in the usual, abbreviated manner of an Indian, but fluently,
and without any of the ordinary reluctance of her people.
“Where go?” repeated
Wah-ta!-Wah, returning the smile of Hetty, in her own gentle, winning manner; “wicked
warrior, that-a-way--good warrior, far off.”
“What’s your name?”
asked Hetty, with the simplicity of a child.
“Wah-ta!-Wah. I no
Mingo--good Delaware--Yengeese friend. Mingo very cruel, and love scalp, for
blood--Delaware love him, for honour. Come here, where no eyes.”
Wah-ta!-Wah now led her
companion towards the lake, descending the bank so as to place its overhanging
trees and bushes between them and any probable observers; nor did she stop
until they were both seated, side by side, on a fallen log, one end of which
actually lay buried in the water.
“Why you come for?” the
young Indian then eagerly inquired; “where you come from?”
Hetty told her tale in
her own simple and truth-loving manner. She explained the situation of her
father, and stated her desire to serve him, and, if possible, to procure his
release.
“Why your fader come to
Mingo camp in night?” asked the Indian girl, with a directness, which, if not
borrowed from the other, partook largely of its sincerity. “He know it
war-time, and he no boy--he no want beard--no want to be told Iroquois carry
tomahawk, and knife, and rifle. Why he come night time, seize me by hair, and
try to scalp Delaware girl?”
“You!” said Hetty,
almost sickening with horror; “did he seize you--did he try to scalp you?”
“Why no? Delaware scalp
sell for much as Mingo scalp. Governor no tell difference. Wicked t’ing for
paleface to scalp. No his gifts, as the good Deerslayer alway tell me.”
“And do you know the
Deerslayer?” said Hetty, colouring with delight and surprise, forgetting her
regrets at the moment, in the influence of this new feeling. “I know him, too.
He is now in the ark, with Judith, and a Delaware, who is called the Big
Serpent. A bold and handsome warrior is this Serpent, too!”
Spite of the rich deep
colour that nature had bestowed on the Indian beauty, the tell-tale blood
deepened on her cheeks, until the blush gave new animation and intelligence to
her jet-black eyes. Raising a finger in an attitude of warning, she dropped her
voice, already so soft and sweet, nearly to a whisper, as she continued the
discourse.
“Chingachgook!”
returned the Delaware girl, sighing out the harsh name, in sounds so softly
guttural, as to cause it to reach the ear in melody. “His father, Uncas--great
chief of the Mahicanni--next to old Tamenund! More as warrior, not so much grey
hair, and less at council-fire. You know Serpent?”
“He joined us last evening,
and was in the ark with me, for two or three hours before I left it. I’m
afraid, Hist--” Hetty could not pronounce the Indian name of her new friend,
but having heard Deerslayer give her this familiar appellation, she used it,
without any of the ceremony of civilized life; “I’m afraid, Hist, he has come
after scalps, as well as my poor father and Hurry Harry!”
“Why he should’n’t, ha?
Chingachgook red warrior, very red--scalp make his honour--be sure he take him.”
“Then,” said Hetty,
earnestly, “he will be as wicked as any other. God will not pardon in a
red-man, what he will not pardon in a white man.”
“No true,” returned the
Delaware girl, with a warmth, that nearly amounted to passion; “no true, I tell
you! The Manitou smile and please when he see young warrior come back from the
war-path, with two, ten, hundred scalp on a pole! Chingachgook father take
scalp, grandfather take scalp--all old chief take scalp; and Chingachgook take
as many scalp as he can carry, himself!”
“Then, Hist, his sleep,
of nights, must be terrible to think of! No one can be cruel, and hope to be
forgiven.”
“No cruel--plenty
forgiven,” returned Wah-ta!-Wah, stamping her little foot on the stony strand,
and shaking her head in a way to show how completely feminine feeling, in one
of its aspects, had gotten the better of feminine feeling in another. “I tell
you, Serpent brave; he go home, this time, with four, yes, two scalp.”
“And is that his
errand, here? Did he really come all this distance, across mountains, and
valley, rivers and lakes, to torment his fellow-creatures, and do so wicked a
thing?”
This question at once
appeased the growing ire of the half-offended Indian beauty. It completely got
the better of the prejudices of education, and turned all her thoughts to a gentler
and more feminine channel. At first, she looked around her, suspiciously, as if
distrusting eaves-droppers; then she gazed wistfully into the face of her
attentive companion; after which this exhibition of girlish coquetry and
womanly feeling, terminated by her covering her face with both her hands, and
laughing in a strain that might well be termed the melody of the woods. Dread
of discovery, however, soon put a stop to this naïve exhibition of feeling, and
removing her hands, this creature of impulses gazed again wistfully into the
face of her companion, as if inquiring how far she might trust a stranger with
her secret. Although Hetty had no claim to her sister’s extraordinary beauty,
many thought her countenance the most winning of the two. It expressed all the
undisguised sincerity of her character, and it was totally free from any of the
unpleasant physical accompaniments, that so frequently attend mental
imbecility. It is true that one accustomed to closer observation than common,
might have detected the proofs of her feebleness of intellect in the language
of her sometimes vacant eyes; but they were signs that attracted sympathy by
their total want of guile, rather than any other feeling. The effect on Hist,
to use the English and more familiar translation of the name, was favourable;
and yielding to an impulse of tenderness, she threw her arms around Hetty, and
embraced her with an outpouring emotion, so natural, that it was only equalled
by its warmth.
“You good,” whispered
the young Indian; “you good, I know; it so long since Wah-ta!-Wah have a
friend--a sister--any body to speak her heart to! you Hist friend; don’t I say
trut’?”
“I never had a friend,”
answered Hetty, returning the warm embrace with unfeigned earnestness; “I ’ve a
sister, but no friend. Judith loves me, and I love Judith; but that’s natural,
and as we are taught in the Bible; but I should like to have a friend! I’ll be
your friend, with all my heart; for I like your voice, and your smile, and your
way of thinking in every thing, except about the scalps --”
“No t’ink more of
him--no say more of scalp,” interrupted Hist, soothingly; “you pale-face, I
red-skin; we bring up different fashion. Deerslayer and Chingachgook great
friend, and no the same colour; Hist and--what your name, pretty pale-face?”
“I am called Hetty,
though when they spell the name in the Bible, they always spell it, Esther.”
“What that make?--no
good, no harm. No need to spell name at all. Moravian try to make Wah-ta!-Wah
spell, but no won’t let him. No good for Delaware girl to know too much--know
more than warrior some time; that great shame. My name Wah-ta!-Wah--that say
Hist, in your tongue; you call him, Hist--I call him, Hetty.”
These preliminaries
settled to their mutual satisfaction, the two girls began to discourse of their
several hopes and projects. Hetty made her new friend more fully acquainted
with her intentions in behalf of her father; and, to one in the least addicted
to prying into the affairs of others, Hist would have betrayed her own feelings
and expectations in connection with the young warrior of her own tribe. Enough
was revealed on both sides, however, to let each party get a tolerable insight
into the views of the other, though enough still remained in mental
reservation, to give rise to the following questions and answers, with which
the interview in effect closed. As the quickest-witted, Hist, was the first
with her interrogatories. Folding an arm about the waist of Hetty, she bent her
head so as to look up playfully into the face of the other; and, laughing, as
if her meaning were to be extracted from her looks, she spoke more plainly.
“Hetty got broder, as
well as fader?” she said; “why no talk of broder, as well as fader?”
“I have no brother,
Hist. I had one once, they say; but he is dead many a year, and lies buried in
the lake, by the side of mother.”
“No got broder--got a
young warrior; love him, almost as much as fader, eh? Very handsome, and
brave-looking; fit to be chief, if he good as he seem to be.”
“It’s wicked to love any
man as well as I love my father, and so I strive not to do it, Hist,” returned
the conscientious Hetty, who knew not how to conceal an emotion by an approach
to an untruth as venial as an evasion, though powerfully tempted by female
shame to err; “though I sometimes think wickedness will get the better of me,
if Hurry comes so often to the lake. I must tell you the truth, dear Hist,
because you ask me; but I should fall down and die in the woods, if he knew it!”
“Why he no ask you,
himself? Brave looking--why not bold speaking? Young warrior ought to ask young
girl; no make young girl speak first. Mingo girls too shame for that.”
This was said
indignantly, and with the generous warmth a young female of spirit would be apt
to feel, at what she deemed an invasion of her sex’s most valued privilege. It
had little influence on the simple-minded, but also just-minded Hetty; who,
though inherently feminine in all her impulses, was much more alive to the
workings of her own heart, than to any of the usages with which convention has
protected the sensitiveness of her sex.
“Ask me what?” the
startled girl demanded, with a suddenness that proved how completely her fears
had been aroused. “Ask me, if I like him as well as I do my own father! Oh! I
hope he will never put such a question to me, for I should have to answer, and
that would kill me!”
“No--no--no kill, quite
almost,” returned the other, laughing in spite of herself. “Make blush
come--make shame come, too; but he no stay great while; then feel happier than
ever. Young warrior must tell young girl he want to make wife, else never can
live in his wigwam.”
“Hurry don’t want to
marry me--nobody will ever want to marry me, Hist.”
“How you can know? P’r’aps
every body want to marry you, and by-and-bye, tongue say what heart feel. Why
nobody want to marry you?”
“I am not full-witted,
they say. Father often tells me this; and so does Judith, sometimes, when she
is vexed; but I shouldn’t so much mind them, as I did mother. She said so once;
and then she cried as if her heart would break; and, so, I know I’m not
full-witted.”
Hist gazed at the
gentle, simple, girl, for quite a minute, without speaking; when the truth
appeared to flash all at once on the mind of the young Indian maid. Pity,
reverence, and tenderness seemed struggling together in her breast; and then,
rising suddenly, she indicated a wish to her companion that she would accompany
her to the camp, which was situated at no great distance. This unexpected
change, from the precaution that Hist had previously manifested a desire to
use, in order to prevent being seen, to an open exposure of the person of her
friend, arose from the perfect conviction that no Indian would harm a being
whom the Great Spirit had disarmed, by depriving it of its strongest defence,
reason. In this respect, nearly all unsophisticated nations resemble each
other; appearing to offer spontaneously, by a feeling creditable to human
nature, that protection by their own forbearance, which has been withheld by
the inscrutable wisdom of Providence. Wah-ta!-Wah, indeed, knew that, in many
tribes, the mentally imbecile and the mad, were held in a species of religious
reverence; receiving from the untutored inhabitants of the forest respect and
honours, instead of the contumely and neglect that it is their fortune to meet
with, among the more pretending and sophisticated.
Hetty accompanied her
new friend without apprehension or reluctance. It was her wish to reach the
camp; and, sustained by her motives, she felt no more concern for the
consequences, than did her companion herself, now the latter was apprised of
the character of the protection that the pale-face maiden carried with her.
Still, as they proceeded slowly along a shore that was tangled with overhanging
bushes, Hetty continued the discourse, assuming the office of interrogating,
which the other had instantly dropped, as soon as she ascertained the character
of the mind to which her questions had been addressed.
“But you are not
half-witted,” said Hetty; “and there’s no reason why the Serpent should not
marry you.”
“Hist prisoner, and
Mingo got large ear. No speak of Chingachgook when they by. Promise Hist that,
good Hetty.”
“I know--I know,”
returned Hetty, half-whispering, in her eagerness to let the other see she
understood the necessity of caution. “I know--Deerslayer and the Serpent mean
to get you away from the Iroquois; and you wish me not to tell the secret.”
“How you know?” said
Hist, hastily; vexed at the moment, that the other was not even more
feeble-minded than was actually the case. “How you know? Better not to talk of
any but fader and Hurry; Mingo understand that; he no understand t’other.
Promise you no talk about what you no understand.”
“But I do understand
this, Hist; and so I must talk about it. Deerslayer as good as told father all
about it, in my presence; and, as nobody told me not to listen, I overheard it
all, as I did Hurry and father’s discourse about the scalps.”
“Very bad for
pale-faces to talk about scalps, and very bad for young woman to hear over! Now
you love Hist, I know, Hetty, and so, among Indians, when love hardest never
talk most.”
“That’s not the way
among white people, who talk most about them they love best. I suppose it’s
because I ’m only half-witted that I don’t see the reason why it should be so
different among red people.”
“That what Deerslayer
call their gift. One gift to talk; t’other gift to hold their tongue.
Hold-tongue your gift, among Mingos. If Serpent want to see Hist, so do Hetty
want to see Hurry. A good girl never tell secret of a friend.”
Hetty understood this
appeal; and she promised the Delaware girl not to make any allusion to the
presence of Chingachgook, or to the motive of his visit to the lake.
“Maybe he get off Hurry
and fader, as well as Hist, if let him have his way,” whispered Wah-ta!-Wah to
her companion, in a confiding, flattering way, just as they got near enough to
the encampment to hear the voices of several of their own sex, who were
apparently occupied in the usual toils of women of their class. “Think of that
Hetty, and put two, twenty finger on mouth. No get friends free without Serpent
do it.”
A better expedient
could not have been adopted, to secure the silence and discretion of Hetty,
than that which was now presented to her mind. As the liberation of her father
and the young frontier-man was the great object of her adventure, she felt the
connection between it and the services of the Delaware; and with an innocent
laugh, she nodded her head, and in the same suppressed manner, promised a due
attention to the wishes of her friend. Thus assured, Hist tarried no longer,
but immediately and openly led the way into the encampment of her captors.
“The great King of kings Hath
in the table of his law commanded,
That thou shalt do no
murder.
Take heed; for he holds
vengeance in his hand,
To hurl upon their
heads that break his law.”
Shakspeare. That the party to
which Hist compulsorily belonged was not one that was regularly on the war-path,
was evident by the presence of females. It was a small fragment of a tribe that
had been hunting and fishing within the English limits, where it was found by
the commencement of hostilities, and, after passing the winter and spring by
living on what was strictly the property of its enemies, it chose to strike a
hostile blow before it finally retired. There was also deep Indian sagacity in
the manœuvre which had led them so far into the territory of their foes. When
the runner arrived who announced the breaking out of hostilities between the
English and French--a struggle that was certain to carry with it all the tribes
that dwelt within the influence of the respective belligerents--this particular
party of the Iroquois were posted on the shores of the Oneida, a lake that lies
some fifty miles nearer to their own frontier than that which is the scene of
our tale. To have fled in a direct line for the Canadas, would have exposed
them to the dangers of a direct pursuit; and the chiefs had determined to adopt
the expedient of penetrating deeper into a region that had now become
dangerous, in the hope of being able to retire in the rear of their pursuers,
instead of having them on their trail. The presence of the women had induced
the attempt at this ruse; the strength of these feebler members of the party
being unequal to the effort of escaping from the pursuit of warriors. When the
reader remembers the vast extent of the American wilderness, at that early day,
he will perceive that it was possible for even a tribe to remain months
undiscovered in particular portions of it; nor was the danger of encountering a
foe, the usual precautions being observed, as great in the woods, as it is on
the high seas, in a time of active warfare.
The encampment being
temporary, it offered to the eye no more than the rude protection of a bivouac,
relieved in some slight degree by the ingenious expedients which suggested
themselves to the readiness of those who passed their lives amid similar
scenes. One fire, that had been kindled against the roots of a living oak,
sufficed for the whole party; the weather being too mild to require it for any
purpose but cooking. Scattered around this centre of attraction, were some
fifteen or twenty low huts--perhaps kennels would be a better word--into which
their different owners crept at night, and which were also intended to meet the
exigencies of a storm. These little huts were made of the branches of trees,
put together with some ingenuity, and they were uniformly topped with bark that
had been stripped from fallen trees; of which every virgin forest possesses
hundreds, in all stages of decay. Of furniture, they had next to none. Cooking
utensils of the simplest sort were lying near the fire; a few articles of
clothing were to be seen in, or around the huts; rifles, horns, and pouches
leaned against the trees, or were suspended from the lower branches; and the
carcases of two or three deer were stretched to view on the same natural
shambles.
As the encampment was
in the midst of a dense wood, the eye could not take in its tout ensemble at a
glance; but hut after hut started out of the gloomy picture, as one gazed about
him in quest of objects. There was no centre, unless the fire might be so
considered--no open area where the possessors of this rude village might
congregate; but all was concealed, dark, covert and cunning, like its owners. A
few children strayed from hut to hut, giving the spot a little the air of
domestic life; and the suppressed laugh, and low voices of the women occasionally
broke in upon the deep stillness of the sombre forest. As for the men, they
either ate, slept, or examined their arms. They conversed but little, and then
usually apart, or in groups withdrawn from the females; whilst an air of
untiring, innate watchfulness and apprehension of danger seemed to be blended
even with their slumbers.
As the two girls came
near the encampment, Hetty uttered a slight exclamation, on catching a view of
the person of her father. He was seated on the ground, with his back to a tree,
and Hurry stood near him, indolently whittling a twig. Apparently they were as
much at liberty as any others in or about the camp; and one unaccustomed to
Indian usages would have mistaken them for visiters, instead of supposing them
to be captives. Wah-ta!-Wah led her new friend quite near them, and then
modestly withdrew, that her own presence might be no restraint on her feelings.
But Hetty was not sufficiently familiar with caresses, or outward
demonstrations of fondness, to indulge in any outbreaking of feeling. She
merely approached and stood at her father’s side without speaking, resembling a
silent statue of filial affection. The old man expressed neither alarm, nor
surprise, at her sudden appearance. In these particulars, he had caught the
stoicism of the Indians; well knowing that there was no more certain mode of
securing their respect than by imitating their self-command. Nor did the
savages themselves betray the least sign of emotion at this sudden appearance
of a stranger among them. In a word, this arrival produced much less visible
sensation, though occurring under circumstances so peculiar, than would be seen
in a village of higher pretensions to civilization, did an ordinary traveller
drive up to the door of its principal inn. Still, a few warriors collected, and
it was evident by the manner in which they glanced at Hetty as they conversed
together, that she was the subject of their discourse, and probable that the
reasons of her unlooked-for appearance were matters of discussion. This phlegm
of manner is characteristic of the North American Indian-- some say of his
white successor also--but, in this case, much should be attributed to the
peculiar situation in which the party was placed. The force in the ark, the
presence of Chingachgook excepted, was well known, no tribe or body of troops
was believed to be near, and vigilant eyes were posted round the entire lake,
watching, day and night, the slightest movement of those whom it would not be
exaggerated now to term the besieged.
Hutter was inwardly
much moved by the conduct of Hetty, though he affected so much indifference of
manner. He recollected her gentle appeal to him, before he left the ark, and
misfortune rendered that of weight, which might have been forgotten amid the
triumph of success. Then he knew the simple, single-hearted fidelity of this
child, and understood why she had come, and the total disregard of self that
reigned in all her acts.
“This is not well,
Hetty,” he said, deprecating the consequences to the girl herself, more than
any other evil. “These are fierce Iroquois, and as little apt to forget an
injury, as a favour.”
“Tell me, father,”
returned the girl, looking furtively about her, as if fearful of being
overheard, “did God let you do the cruel errand on which you came? I want much
to know this, that I may speak to the Indians plainly, if he did not.”
“You should not have
come hither, Hetty; these brutes will not understand your nature, or your
intentions!”
“How was it, father?
neither you, nor Hurry, seems to have any thing that looks like scalps.”
“If that will set your
mind at peace, child, I can answer you, no. I had caught the young creatur’ who
came here with you, but her screeches soon brought down upon me a troop of the
wild-cats, that was too much for any single Christian to withstand. If that
will do you any good, we are as innocent of having taken a scalp this time, as
I make no doubt we shall also be innocent of receiving the bounty.”
“Thank you for that,
father! Now I can speak boldly to the Iroquois, and with an easy conscience. I
hope Hurry, too, has not been able to harm any of the Indians?”
“Why, as to that
matter, Hetty,” returned the individual in question, “you ’ve put it pretty
much in the natyve character of the religious truth. Hurry has not been able,
and that is the long and short of it. I ’ve seen many squalls, old fellow, both
on land and on the water, but never did I feel one as lively and as snappish as
that which come down upon us, night afore last, in the shape of an Indian
hurrah-boys! Why, Hetty, you ’re no great matter at a reason, or an idee that
lies a little deeper than common; but you’re human, and have some human
notions;--now, I ’ll just ask you to look at these circumstances. Here was old
Tom, your father, and myself, bent on a legal operation, as is to be seen in
the words of the law and the proclamation, thinking no harm; when we were set
upon by critturs that were more like a back of hungry wolves, than mortal
savages even, and there they had us tethered like two sheep, in less time than
it has taken me to tell you the story.”
“You are free now,
Hurry,” returned Hetty, glancing timidly at the fine unfettered limbs of the
young giant. “You have no cords, or withes, to pain your arms, or legs, now.”
“Not I, Hetty. Natur’
is natur’, and freedom is natur’, too. My limbs have a free look, but that’s
pretty much the amount of it, sin’ I can’t use them in the way I should like.
Even these trees have eyes; ay, and tongues, too; for was the old man, here, or
I, to start one single rod beyond our gaol limits, sarvice would be put on the
bail afore we could ‘gird up our loins’ for a race; and, like as not, four or
five rifle-bullets would be travelling after us, carrying so many invitations
to curb our impatience. There isn’t a gaol in the Colony as tight as this we
are now in; for I’ve tried the vartue of two or three on ’em, and I know the
mater’als they are made of, as well as the men that made ’em; takin’ down being
the next step in schoolin’ to puttin’ up, in all such fabrications.”
Lest the reader should
get an exaggerated opinion of Hurry’s demerits, from this boastful and
indiscreet revelation, it may be well to say that his offences were confined to
assaults and batteries, for several of which he had been imprisoned, when, as
he has just said, he often escaped by demonstrating the flimsiness of the
constructions in which he was confined, by opening for himself doors, in spots
where the architects had neglected to place them. But Hetty had no knowledge of
gaols, and little of the nature of crime, beyond what her unadulterated and
almost instinctive perceptions of right and wrong taught her, and this sally of
the rude being who had spoken, was lost upon her. She understood his general
meaning, however, and answered in reference to that alone.
“It’s so best, Hurry,”
she said. “It is best father and you should be quiet and peaceable, till I have
spoken to the Iroquois, when all will be well and happy. I don’t wish either of
you to follow, but leave me to myself. As soon as all is settled, and you are
at liberty to go back to the castle, I will come and let you know it.”
Hetty spoke with so
much simple earnestness, seemed so confident of success, and wore so high an
air of moral feeling and truth, that both the listeners felt more disposed to
attach an importance to her mediation, than might otherwise have happened. When
she manifested an intention to quit them, therefore, they offered no obstacle,
though they saw she was about to join the group of chiefs who were consulting
apart, seemingly on the manner and motive of her own sudden appearance.
When Hist--for so we
love best to call her--quitted her companion, she strayed near one or two of
the elder warriors, who had shown her most kindness in her captivity,-- the
principal man of whom, had even offered to adopt her as his child, if she would
consent to become a Huron. In taking this direction, the shrewd girl did so to
invite inquiry. She was too well trained in the habits of her people, to
obtrude the opinions of one of her sex and years on men and warriors; but
nature had furnished a tact and ingenuity that enabled her to attract the
attention she desired, without wounding the pride of those whom it was her duty
to defer to and respect. Even her affected indifference stimulated curiosity;
and Hetty had hardly reached the side of her father, before the Delaware girl
was brought within the circle of the warriors, by a secret but significant
gesture. Here she was questioned as to the presence of her companion, and the
motives that had brought her to the camp. This was all that Hist desired. She
explained the manner in which she had detected the weakness of Hetty’s reason,
rather exaggerating than lessening the deficiency in her intellect; and then
she related, in general terms, the object of the girl in venturing among her
enemies. The effect was all that the speaker expected; her account investing
the person and character of their visiter with a sacredness and respect, that
she well knew would prove her protection. As soon as her own purpose was
attained, Hist withdrew to a distance, where, with female consideration, and a
sisterly tenderness, she set about the preparation of a meal, that was to be
offered to her new friend, as soon as the latter might be at liberty to partake
of it. While thus occupied, however, the ready girl in no degree relaxed in her
watchfulness; noting every change of countenance among the chiefs, every
movement of Hetty, and the smaller occurrences that could be likely to affect
her own interests, or that of her new friend.
As Hetty approached the
chiefs, they opened their little circle, with an ease and deference of manner,
that would have done credit to men of more courtly origin. A fallen tree lay
near, and the oldest of the warriors made a quiet sign for the girl to be
seated on it, taking his place at her side, with the gentleness of a father.
The others arranged themselves around the two, with grave dignity; and then the
girl, who had sufficient observation to perceive that such a course was
expected of her, began to reveal the object of her visit. The moment she opened
her mouth to speak, however, the old chief gave a gentle sign for her to
forbear, said a few words to one of his juniors, and then waited in silent
patience until the latter had summoned Hist to the party. This interruption
proceeded from the chief’s having discovered that there existed a necessity for
an interpreter; few of the Hurons present understanding the English language,
and they but imperfectly.
Wah-ta!-Wah was not
sorry to be called upon to be present at the interview, and least of all in the
character in which she was now wanted. She was aware of the hazards she ran, in
attempting to deceive one or two of the party; but was none the less resolved
to use every means that offered, and to practise every artifice that an Indian
education could supply, to conceal the facts of the vicinity of her betrothed,
and of the errand on which he had come. One unpractised in the expedients and
opinions of savage life, would not have suspected the readiness of invention,
the wariness of action, the high resolution, the noble impulses, the deep
selfdevotion, and the feminine disregard of self, where the affections were
concerned, that lay concealed beneath the demure looks, the mild eye, and the
sunny smiles of this young Indian beauty. As she approached them, the grim old
warriors regarded her with pleasure; for they had a secret pride in the hope of
engrafting so rare a scion on the stock of their own nation; adoption being as
regularly practised, and as distinctly recognized among the tribes of America,
as it ever had been among those nations that submit to the sway of the civil
law.
As soon as Hist was
seated by the side of Hetty, the old chief desired her to ask “the fair young
pale-face” what had brought her among the Iroquois, and what they could do to
serve her.
“Tell them, Hist, who I
am--Thomas Hutter’s youngest daughter; Thomas Hutter, the oldest of their two
prisoners; he who owns the castle and the ark, and who has the best right to be
thought the owner of these hills, and that lake, since he has dwelt so long,
and trapped so long, and fished so long, among them. They’ll know whom you mean
by Thomas Hutter, if you tell them that. And then tell them that I’ve come here
to convince them they ought not to harm father and Hurry, but let them go in
peace, and to treat them as brothers, rather than as enemies. Now tell them all
this plainly, Hist, and fear nothing for yourself or me; God will protect us.”
Wah-ta!-Wah did as the
other desired; taking care to render the words of her friend as literally as
possible into the Iroquois tongue, a language she used with a readiness almost
equal to that with which she spoke her own. The chiefs heard this opening
explanation, with grave decorum; the two who had a little knowledge of English,
intimating their satisfaction with the interpreter, by furtive but significant
glances of the eyes.
“And, now, Hist,”
continued Hetty, as soon as it was intimated to her that she might proceed; “and,
now, Hist, I wish you to tell these red men, word for word, what I am about to
say. Tell them first, that father and Hurry came here with an intention to take
as many scalps as they could; for the wicked governor and the province have
offered money for scalps; whether of warriors, or women, men or children; and
the love of gold was too strong for their hearts to withstand it. Tell them
this, dear Hist, just as you have heard it from me, word for word.”
Wah-ta!-Wah hesitated
about rendering this speech as literally as had been desired; but detecting the
intelligence of those who understood English, and apprehending even a greater
knowledge than they actually possessed, she found herself compelled to comply.
Contrary to what a civilized man would have expected, the admission of the
motives and of the errands of their prisoners, produced no visible effect, on
either the countenances or the feelings of the listeners. They probably
considered the act meritorious, and that which neither of them would have
hesitated to perform in his own person, he would not be apt to censure in
another.
“And, now, Hist,”
resumed Hetty, as soon as she perceived that her first speeches were understood
by the chiefs; “you can tell them more. They know that father and Hurry did not
succeed; and therefore they can bear them no grudge for any harm that has been
done. If they had slain their children and wives, it would not alter the
matter; and I’m not certain that what I am about to tell them would not have
more weight had there been mischief done. But ask them first, Hist, if they
know there is a God, who reigns over the whole earth, and is ruler and chief of
all who live, let them be red, or white, or what colour they may?”
Wah-ta!-Wah looked a
little surprised at this question; for the idea of the Great Spirit is seldom
long absent from the mind of an Indian girl. She put the question, as literally
as possible, however, and received a grave answer in the affirmative.
“This is right,”
continued Hetty, “and my duty will now be light. This Great Spirit, as you call
our God, has caused a book to be written, that we call a Bible; and in this
book have been set down all his commandments, and his holy will and pleasure,
and the rules by which all men are to live, and directions how to govern the
thoughts even, and the wishes, and the will. Here, this is one of these holy
books, and you must tell the chiefs what I am about to read to them from its
sacred pages.”
As Hetty concluded, she
reverently unrolled a small English Bible from its envelope of coarse calico;
treating the volume with the sort of external respect that a Romanist would be
apt to show to a religious relic. As she slowly proceeded in her task, the grim
warriors watched each movement with riveted eyes; and when they saw the little
volume appear, a slight expression of surprise escaped one or two of them. But
Hetty held it out towards them, in triumph, as if she expected the sight would
produce a visible miracle; and then, without betraying either surprise or
mortification at the stoicism of the Indian, she turned eagerly to her new
friend, in order to renew the discourse.
“This is the sacred
volume, Hist,” she said, “and these words, and lines, and verses, and chapters,
all came from God!”
“Why the Great Spirit
no send book to Indian, too?” demanded Hist, with the directness of a mind that
was totally unsophisticated.
“Why?” answered Hetty,
a little bewildered by a question so unexpected. “Why?--Ah! you know the
Indians don’t know how to read.”
If Hist was not
satisfied with this explanation, she did not deem the point of sufficient
importance to be pressed. Simply bending her body, in gentle admission of the
truth of what she heard, she sat patiently awaiting the further arguments of
the pale-face enthusiast.
“You can tell these
chiefs, that throughout this book, men are ordered to forgive their enemies; to
treat them as they would brethren; and never to injure their fellow-creatures,
more especially on account of revenge, or any evil passion. Do you think you
can tell them this, so that they will understand it, Hist?”
“Tell him well enough;
but he no very easy to understand.”
Hist then conveyed the
ideas of Hetty, in the best manner she could, to the attentive Indians; who
heard her words, with some such surprise as an American of our own times would
be apt to betray at a suggestion that the great modern, but vacillating ruler of
things human, public opinion, might be wrong. One or two of their number,
however, having met with missionaries, said a few words in explanation, and
then the group gave all its attention to the communications that were to
follow. Before Hetty resumed, she inquired earnestly of Hist if the chiefs had
understood her, and receiving an evasive answer, was fain to be satisfied.
“I will now read to the
warriors some of the verses that it is good for them to know,” continued the
girl, whose manner grew more solemn and earnest as she proceeded; “and they
will remember that they are the very words of the Great Spirit. First, then, ye
are commanded to ‘Love thy neighbour as thyself.’ Tell them that, dear Hist.”
“Neighbour for Indian,
no mean pale-face,” answered the Delaware girl, with more decision than she had
hitherto thought it necessary to use. “Neighbour mean Iroquois for Iroquois,
Mohican for Mohican, pale-face for pale-face. No need tell chief any thing
else.”
“You forget, Hist,
these are the words of the Great Spirit, and the chiefs must obey them as well
as others. Here is another commandment: ‘Whosoever shall smite thee on the
right cheek, turn to him the other also.”
“What that mean?”
demanded Hist, with the quickness of lightning.
Hetty explained that it
was an order not to resent injuries, but rather to submit to receive fresh
wrongs from the offender.
“And hear this, too,
Hist,” she added, “ ‘Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to
them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute
you.’ ”
By this time Hetty had
become excited; her eye gleamed with the earnestness of her feelings, her
cheeks flushed, and her voice, usually so low and modulated, became stronger
and more impressive. With the Bible she had been early made familiar by her
mother; and she now turned from passage to passage, with surprising rapidity,
taking care to cull such verses as taught the sublime lessons of Christian
charity and Christian forgiveness. To translate half she said, in her pious
earnestness, Wah-ta!-Wah would have found impracticable, had she made the
effort; but wonder held her tongue-tied, equally with the chiefs; and the
young, simple-minded enthusiast, had fairly become exhausted with her own
efforts, before the other opened her mouth, again, to utter a syllable. Then,
indeed, the Delaware girl gave a brief translation of the substance of what had
been both read and said, confining herself to one or two of the more striking
of the verses, those that had struck her own imagination as the most
paradoxical, and which certainly would have been the most applicable to the
case, could the uninstructed minds of the listeners embrace the great moral
truths they conveyed.
It will be scarcely
necessary to tell the reader the effect that such novel duties would be likely
to produce among a group of Indian warriors, with whom it was a species of
religious principle never to forget a benefit, or to forgive an injury.
Fortunately, the previous explanations of Hist had prepared the minds of the
Hurons for something extravagant; and most of that which to them seemed
inconsistent and paradoxical, was accounted for by the fact that the speaker
possessed a mind that was constituted differently from those of most of the
human race. Still there were one or two old men who had heard similar doctrines
from the missionaries, and they felt a desire to occupy an idle moment by
pursuing a subject that they found so curious.
“This is the Good Book
of the pale-faces,” observed one of these chiefs, taking the volume from the
unresisting hand of Hetty, who gazed anxiously at his face, while he turned the
leaves, as if she expected to witness some visible results from the
circumstance. “This is the law by which my white brethren profess to live?”
Hist, to whom this
question was addressed, if it might be considered as addressed to any one in
particular, answered simply in the affirmative; adding that both the French of
the Canadas, and the Yengeese of the British provinces equally admitted its
authority, and affected to revere its principles.
“Tell my young sister,”
said the Huron, looking directly at Hist, “that I will open my mouth and say a
few words.”
“The Iroquois chief go
to speak--my pale-face friend listen,” said Hist.
“I rejoice to hear it!”
exclaimed Hetty. “God has touched his heart, and he will now let father and
Hurry go!”
“This is the pale-face
law,” resumed the chief. “It tells him to do good to them that hurt him; and
when his brother asks him for his rifle, to give him the powder-horn, too. Such
is the pale-face law?”
“Not so--not so,”
answered Hetty earnestly, when these words had been interpreted. “There is not
a word about rifles in the whole book; and powder and bullets give offence to
the Great Spirit.”
“Why, then, does the
pale-face use them? If he is ordered to give double to him that asks only for
one thing, why does he take double from the poor Indians, who ask for no thing?
He comes from beyond the rising sun, with his book in his hand, and he teaches
the red-man to read it; but why does he forget, himself, all it says? When the
Indian gives, he is never satisfied; and now he offers gold for the scalps of
our women and children, though he calls us beasts if we take the scalp of a
warrior killed in open war. My name is Rivenoak.”
When Hetty had got this
formidable question fairly presented to her mind in the translation, and Hist
did her duty with more than usual readiness, on this occasion, it scarcely need
be said that she was sorely perplexed. Abler heads than that of this poor girl
have frequently been puzzled by questions of a similar drift; and it is not
surprising, that with all her own earnestness and sincerity, she did not know
what answer to make.
“What shall I tell
them, Hist?” she asked imploringly; “I know that all I have read from the book
is true; and yet it wouldn’t seem to be so, would it, by the conduct of those
to whom the book was given?”
“Give ’em pale-face
reason,” returned Hist, ironically; “that always good for one side; though he
bad for t’other.”
“No, no, Hist, there
can’t be two sides to truth--and yet it does seem strange! I’m certain I have
read the verses right, and no one would be so wicked as to print the word of
God wrong. That can never be, Hist.”
“Well, to poor Indian
girl, it seem every thing can be to pale-faces;” returned the other, coolly. “One
time ’ey say white, and one time ’ey say black. Why, then, never can be?”
Hetty was more and more
embarrassed, until, overcome with the apprehension that she had failed in her
object, and that the lives of her father and Hurry would be the forfeit of some
blunder of her own, she burst into tears. From that moment the manner of Hist
lost all its irony and cool indifference, and she became the fond caressing
friend again. Throwing her arms around the afflicted girl, she attempted to
soothe her sorrows by the scarcely ever failing remedy of female sympathy.
“Stop cry--no cry,” she
said, wiping the tears from the face of Hetty, as she would have performed the
same office for a child, and stopping to press her, occasionally, to her own
warm bosom with the affection of a sister; “why you so trouble? You no make he
book, if he be wrong; and you no make he pale-face, if he wicked. There wicked
red-man, and wicked white man--no colour all good--no colour all wicked. Chiefs
know that well enough.”
Hetty soon recovered
from this sudden burst of grief, and then her mind reverted to the purpose of
her visit, with all its single-hearted earnestness. Perceiving that the
grim-looking chiefs were still standing around her, in grave attention, she
hoped that another effort to convince them of the right might be successful.
“Listen, Hist,” she
said, struggling to suppress her sobs, and to speak distinctly; “tell the
chiefs that it matters not what the wicked do--right is right--the words of the
Great Spirit are the words of the Great Spirit--and no one can go harmless for
doing an evil act, because another has done it before him! ‘Render good for
evil,’ says this book; and that is the law for the red-man as well as for the
white man.”
“Never hear such a law
among Delaware, or among Iroquois,” answered Hist, soothingly. “No good to tell
chiefs any such law as that. Tell ’em somet’ing they believe.”
Hist was about to
proceed, notwithstanding, when a tap on the shoulder, from the finger of the
oldest chief, caused her to look up. She then perceived that one of the
warriors had left the group, and was already returning to it with Hutter and
Hurry. Understanding that the two last were to become parties in the inquiry,
she became mute, with the unhesitating obedience of an Indian woman. In a few
seconds the prisoners stood face to face with the principal men of the captors.
“Daughter,” said the
senior chief to the young Delaware, “ask this greybeard why he came into our
camp?”
The question was put by
Hist, in her own imperfect Engglish, but in a way that was easy to be
understood. Hutter was too stern and obdurate, by nature, to shrink from the
consequences of any of his acts, and he was also too familiar with the opinions
of the savages not to understand that nothing was to be gained by equivocation,
or an unmanly dread of their anger. Without hesitating, therefore, he avowed
the purpose with which he had landed, merely justifying it by the fact that the
government of the province had bid high for scalps. This frank avowal was
received by the Iroquois with evident satisfication, not so much, however, on
account of the advantage it gave them, in a moral point of view, as by proving
that they had captured a man worthy of occupying their thoughts, and of
becoming a subject of their revenge. Hurry, when interrogated, confessed the
truth, though he would have been more disposed to concealment than his sterner
companion, did the circumstances very well admit of its adoption. But he had tact
enough to discover that equivocation would be useless, at that moment, and he
made a merit of necessity by imitating a frankness, which, in the case of
Hutter, was the offspring of habits of indifference, acting on a disposition
that was always ruthless and reckless of personal consequences.
As soon as the chiefs
had received the answers to their questions, they walked away in silence, like
men who deemed the matter disposed of, all Hetty’s dogmas being thrown away on
beings trained in violence, from infancy to manhood. Hetty and Hist were now
left alone with Hutter and Hurry, no visible restraint being placed on the
movements of either; though all four, in fact, were vigilantly and unceasingly
watched. As respects the men, care was had to prevent them from getting
possession of any of the rifles that lay scattered about, their own included;
and there all open manifestations of watchfulness ceased. But they, who were so
experienced in Indian practices, knew too well how great was the distance
between appearances and reality, to become the dupes of this seeming
carelessness. Although both thought incessantly of the means of escape, and
this without concert, each was aware of the uselessness of attempting any
project of the sort that was not deeply laid, and promptly executed. They had
been long enough in the encampment, and were sufficiently observant to have
ascertained that Hist, also, was a sort of captive; and, presuming on the
circumstance, Hutter spoke in her presence more openly than he might otherwise
have thought it prudent to do; inducing Hurry to be equally unguarded by his
example.
“I’ll not blame you,
Hetty, for coming on this errand, which was well meant, if not very wisely
planned,” commenced the father, seating himself by the side of his daughter,
and taking her hand; a sign of affection that this rude being was accustomed to
manifest to this particular child; “but preaching, and the Bible, are not the
means to turn an Indian from his ways. Has Deerslayer sent any message; or has
he any scheme by which he thinks to get us free?”
“Ay, that’s the
substance of it!” put in Hurry; “if you can help us, gal, to half a mile of
freedom, or even a good start of a short quarter, I’ll answer for the rest.
Perhaps the old man may want a little more, but for one of my height and years,
that will meet all objections.”
Hetty looked
distressed, turning her eyes from one to the other; but she had no answer to
give to the question of the reckless Hurry.
“Father,” she said, “neither
Deerslayer nor Judith knew of my coming, until I had left the ark. They are
afraid the Iroquois will make a raft, and try to get off to the hut, and think
more of defending that, than of coming to aid you.”
“No--no--no,” said Hist
hurriedly, though in a low voice, and with her face bent towards the earth, in
order to conceal from those whom she knew to be watching them the fact of her
speaking at all. “No, no, no, Deerslayer different man. He no t’ink of
defending ’self, with a friend in danger. Help one another, and all get to hut.”
“This sounds well, old
Tom,” said Hurry, winking and laughing, though he too used the precaution to
speak low. “Give me a ready-witted squaw for a fri’nd, and though I’ll not
downright defy an Iroquois, I think I would defy the devil.”
“No talk loud,” said
Hist; “some Iroquois got Yengeese tongue, and all got Yengeese ear.”
“Have we a friend in
you, young woman?” inquired Hutter, with an increasing interest in the
conference. “If so, you may calculate on a solid reward; and nothing will be
easier than to send you to your own tribe, if we can once fairly get you off
with us to the castle. Give us the ark, and the canoes, and we can command the
lake, spite of all the savages in the Canadas. Nothing but artillery could
drive us out of the castle, if we can get back to it.”
“S’pose ’ey come ashore
to take scalp?” retorted Hist, with cool irony, at which the girl appeared to
be more expert than is common for her sex.
“Ay, ay--that was a
mistake; but there is little use in lamentations, and less still, young woman,
in flings.”
“Father,” said Hetty, “Judith
thinks of breaking open the big chest, in hopes of finding something in that
which may buy your freedom of the savages.”
A dark look came over
Hutter, at the announcement of this fact, and he muttered his dissatisfaction
in a way to render it intelligible to all present.
“What for no break open
chest?” put in Hist. “Life sweeter than old chest--scalp sweeter than old
chest. If no tell darter to break him open, Wah-ta!-wah no help him to run
away.”
“Ye know not what ye
ask--ye are but silly girls, and the wisest way, for ye both, is to speak of
what ye understand, and to speak of nothing else. I little like this cold
neglect of the savages, Hurry; it’s a proof that they think of something
serious, and, if we are to do any thing, we must do it soon. Can we count on
this young woman, think you?”
“Listen,” said Hist,
quickly, and with an earnestness that proved how much her feelings were
concerned; “Wah-ta!-wah no Iroquois--all over Delaware--got Delaware heart--Delaware
feeling. She prisoner, too. One prisoner help t’other prisoner. No good to talk
more, now. Darter stay with father--Wah-ta!-wah come and see friend --all look
right--then tell what he do.”
This was said in a low
voice, but distinctly, and in a manner to make an impression. As soon as it was
uttered, the girl arose and left the group, walking composedly towards the hut
she occupied, as if she had no further interest in what might pass between the
three pale-faces.
“She speaks much of her
father; says she hears
There’s tricks i’the
world; and hems, and beats her heart;
Spurns enviously at
straws; speaks things in doubt,
That carry but half
sense; her speech is nothing,
Yet the unsuspected use
of it doth move
The hearers to collection;--”
Shakspeare We left the occupants of
the castle and the ark, buried in sleep. Once or twice, in the course of the
night, it is true, Deerslayer, or the Delaware, arose and looked out upon the
tranquil lake, when, finding all safe, they returned to their pallets, and
slept like men who were not easily deprived of their natural rest. At the first
signs of the dawn, the former arose, however, and made his personal
arrangements for the day; though his companion, whose nights had not been
tranquil, or without disturbance, of late, continued on his blanket until the
sun had fairly risen. Judith, too, was later than common, that morning, for the
earlier hours of the night had brought her little of either refreshment or
sleep. But ere the sun had shown himself over the eastern hills, these, too,
were up and afoot; even the tardy, in that region, seldom remaining on their
pallets after the appearance of the great luminary.
Chingachgook was in the
act of arranging his forest toilet, when Deerslayer entered the cabin of the
ark, and threw him a few coarse, but light summer vestments, that belonged to
Hutter.
“Judith hath given me
them for your use, chief,” said the latter, as he cast the jacket and trousers
at the feet of the Indian; “for it’s ag’in all prudence and caution to be seen
in your war-dress and paint. Wash off all them fiery streaks from your cheeks,
put on these garments, and here is a hat, such as it is, that will give you an
awful oncivilized sort of civilization, as the missionaries call it. Remember
that Hist is at hand, and what we do for the maiden, must be done while we are
doing for others. I know its ag’in your gifts and your natur’ to wear clothes,
unless they are cut and carried in a red man’s fashion, but make a vartue of necessity,
and put these on, at once, even if they do rise a little in your throat.”
Chingachgook, or the
Serpent, eyed the vestments with strong disgust; but he saw the usefulness of
the disguise, if not its absolute necessity. Should the Iroquois discover a
red-man in or about the castle, it might, indeed, place them more on their
guard, and give their suspicions a direction towards their female captive. Any
thing was better than a failure, as it regarded his betrothed, and, after
turning the different garments round and round, examining them with a species
of grave irony, affecting to draw them on in a way that defeated itself, and
otherwise manifesting the reluctance of a young savage to confine his limbs in
the usual applicances of civilized life, the chief submitted to the directions
of his companion, and finally stood forth, so far as the eye could detect, a
red-man in colour alone. Little was to be apprehended from this last
peculiarity, however, the distance from the shore, and the want of glasses, preventing
any very close scrutiny, and Deerslayer, himself, though of a brighter and
fresher tint, had a countenance that was burnt by the sun to a hue scarcely
less red than that of his Mohican companion. The awkwardness of the Delaware,
in his new attire, caused his friend to smile more than once that day, but he
carefully abstained from the use of any of those jokes which would have been
bandied among white men on such an occasion; the habits of a chief, the dignity
of a warrior on his first path, and the gravity of the circumstances in which
they were placed, uniting to render so much levity out of season.
The meeting, at the
morning meal, of the three islanders, if we may use the term, was silent, grave
and thoughtful. Judith showed, by her looks, that she had passed an unquiet
night, while the two men had the future before them, with its unseen and
unknown events. A few words of courtesy passed between Deerslayer and the girl,
in the course of the breakfast, but no allusion was made to their situation. At
length Judith, whose heart was full, and whose novel feelings disposed her to
entertain sentiments more gentle and tender than common, introduced the
subject, and this in a way to show how much of her thoughts it had occupied, in
the course of the last sleepless night.
“It would be dreadful,
Deerslayer,” the girl abruptly exclaimed, “should any thing serious befal my
father and Hetty! We cannot remain quietly here, and leave them in the hands of
the Iroquois, without bethinking us of some means of serving them.”
“I’m ready, Judith, to
sarve them, and all others who are in trouble, could the way to do it be p’inted
out. It’s no trifling matter to fall into red-skin hands, when men set out on
an a’r’n’d like that which took Hutter and Hurry ashore; that I know as well as
another; and I wouldn’t wish my worst inimy in such a strait, much less them
with whom I’ve journeyed, and eat, and slept. Have you any scheme, that you
would like to have the Sarpent and me, indivour to carry out?”
“I know of no other means
to release the prisoners, than by bribing the Iroquois. They are not proof
against presents; and we might offer enough, perhaps, to make them think it
better to carry away what to them will be rich gifts, than to carry away poor
prisoners; if, indeed, they should carry them away at all!”
“This is well enough,
Judith; yes, it’s well enough, if the inimy is to be bought, and we can find
articles to make the purchase with. Your father has a convenient lodge, and it
is most cunningly placed; though it doesn’t seem over-stock’d with riches that
will be likely to buy his ransom. There’s the piece he calls Killdeer, might
count for something, and I understand there’s a keg of powder about, which
might be a make-weight, sartain; and yet two able-bodied men are not to be
bought off for a trifle--besides--”
“Besides what?”
demanded Judith, impatiently, observing that the other hesitated to proceed,
probably from a reluctance to distress her.
“Why, Judith, the
Frenchers offer bounties as well as our own side; and the price of two scalps
would purchase a keg of powder, and a rifle; though I’ll not say one of the
latter altogether as good as Killdeer, there, which your father va’nts as
oncommon, and onequalled, like. But fair powder, and a pretty sartain rifle;
and then the red-men are not the expartest in fire-arms, and don’t always know
the difference atwixt that which is ra’al, and that which is seeming.”
“This is horrible!”
muttered the girl, struck by the homely manner in which her companion was
accustomed to state his facts. “But you overlook my own clothes, Deerslayer;
and they, I think, might go far with the women of the Iroquois.”
“No doubt they would;
no doubt they would, Judith,” returned the other, looking at her keenly, as if
he would ascertain whether she were really capable of making such a sacrifice. “But,
are you sartain, gal, you could find it in your heart, to part with your own
finery for such a purpose? Many is the man who has thought he was valiant till
danger stared him in the face; I’ve known them, too, that consaited they were
kind and ready to give away all they had to the poor, when they’ve been
listening to other people’s hard-heartedness; but whose fists have clench’d as
tight as the riven hickory, when it came to downright offerings of their own.
Besides, Judith, you’re handsome--oncommon in that way, one might obsarve, and
do no harm to the truth; and they that have beauty, like to have that which
will adorn it. Are you sartain you could find it in your heart to part with
your own finery?”
The soothing allusion
to the personal charms of the girl, was well-timed, to counteract the effect
produced by the distrust that the young man expressed of Judith’s devotion to
her filial duties. Had another said as much as Deerslayer, the compliment would
most probably have been overlooked, in the indignation awakened by the doubts;
but even the unpolished sincerity, that so often made this simple-minded hunter
bare his thoughts, had a charm for the girl; and, while she coloured, and for
an instant her eyes flashed fire, she could not find it in her heart to be
really angry with one whose very soul seemed truth and manly kindness. Look her
reproaches she did; but conquering the desire to retort, she succeeded in
answering in a mild and friendly manner.
“You must keep all your
favourable opinions for the Delaware girls, Deerslayer, if you seriously think
thus of those of your own colour,” she said, affecting to laugh. “But, try me;
if you find that I regret either riband or feather, silk or muslin, then may
you think what you please of my heart, and say what you think.”
“That’s justice! The
rarest thing to find on ’arth, is a truly just man. So says Tamenund, the
wisest prophet of the Delawares; and so all must think, that have occasion to
see, and talk, and act among mankind. I love a just man, Sarpent; his eyes are
never covered with darkness towards his inimies, while they are all sunshine
and brightness towards his fri’nds. He uses the reason that God has given him,
and he uses it with a feelin’ of his being ordered to look at, and to consider
things as they are, and not as he wants them to be. It’s easy enough to find
men who call themselves just; but it’s wonderful oncommon to find them that are
the thing, in fact. How often have I seen Indians, gal, who believed they were
lookin’ into a matter agreeable to the will of the Great Spirit, when, in
truth, they were only striving to act up to their own will and pleasure, and
this, half of the time, with a temptation to go wrong that could no more be
seen by themselves, than the stream that runs in the next valley, can be seen
by us through yonder mountain; though any looker-on might have discovered it,
as plainly as we can discover the parch that are swimming around this hut.”
“Very true, Deerslayer,”
rejoined Judith, losing every trace of displeasure in a bright smile; “very
true; and I hope to see you act on this love of justice, in all matters in
which I am concerned. Above all, I hope you will judge for yourself, and not
believe every evil story that a prating idler, like Hurry Harry, may have to
tell, that goes to touch the good name of any young woman who may not happen to
have the same opinions of his face and person that the blustering gallant has
of himself.”
“Hurry Harry’s idees do
not pass for gospel with me, Judith; but even worse than he may have eyes and
ears,” returned the other gravely.
“Enough of this!”
exclaimed Judith, with flashing eye, and a flush that mounted to her temples; “and
more of my father and his ransom. ’T is as you say, Deerslayer; the Indians
will not be likely to give up their prisoners, without a heavier bribe than my
clothes can offer, and father’s rifle and powder. There is the chest.”
“Ay, there is the
chist, as you say, Judith; and when the question gets to be between a secret
and a scalp, I should think most men would prefar keeping the last. Did your
father ever give you any downright command consarning that chist?”
“Never. He has always
appeared to think its locks, and its steel bands, and its strength, its best protection.”
“’T is a rare chist,
and altogether of curious build,” returned Deerslayer, rising and approaching
the thing in question, on which he seated himself, with a view to examine it
with greater ease. “Chingachgook, this is no wood that comes of any forest that
you or I have ever trailed through! ’T isn’t the black walnut; and yet it’s
quite as comely, if not more so, did the smoke and the treatment give it fair
play.”
The Delaware drew near,
felt of the wood, examined its grain, endeavoured to indent the surface with a
nail, and passed his hand curiously over the steel bands, the heavy padlocks,
and the other novel peculiarities of the massive box.
“No--nothing like this
grows in these regions,” resumed Deerslayer; “I’ve seen all the oaks, both the
maples, the elms, the bass-wood, all the walnuts, the butternuts, and every
tree that has a substance and colour, wrought into some form or other; but
never have I before seen such a wood as this! Judith, the chist itself, would
buy your father’s freedom; or Iroquois cur’osity isn’t as strong as red-skin
cur’osity, in general; especially in the matter of woods.”
“The purchase might be
cheaper made, perhaps, Deerslayer. The chest is full, and it would be better to
part with half, than to part with the whole. Besides, father--I know not
why--but, father values that chest highly.”
“He would seem to prize
what it holds, more than the chist itself, judging by the manner in which he
treats the outside, and secures the inside. Here are three locks, Judith; is there
no key?”
“I’ve never seen one;
and yet key there must be, since Hetty told us, she had often seen the chest
opened.”
“Keys no more lie in
the air, or float on the water, than humans, gal; if there is a key, there must
be a place in which it is kept.”
“That is true, and it
might not be difficult to find it, did we dare to search!”
“This is for you,
Judith; it is altogether for you. The chist is your’n, or your father’s; and
Hutter is your father, not mine. Cur’osity is a woman’s, and not a man’s failing;
and there you have got all the reasons before you. If the chist has articles
for ransom, it seems to me they would be wisely used in redeeming their owner’s
life, or even in saving his scalp; but that is a matter for your judgment, and
not for ourn. When the lawful owner of a trap, or a buck, or a canoe, isn’t
present, his next of kin becomes his riprisentatyve, by all the laws of the
woods. We therefore leave you to say whether the chist shall, or shall not be
opened.”
“I hope you do not
believe I can hesitate, when my father’s life’s in danger, Deerslayer!”
“Why, it’s pretty much
putting a scolding ag’in tears and mourning. It’s not onreasonable to foretell
that old Tom may find fault with what you’ve done, when he sees himself, once
more, in his hut, here; but there’s nothing unusual in men’s falling out with
what has been done for their own good; I dare to say that even the moon would
seem a different thing from what it now does, could we look at it from the
other side.”
“Deerslayer, if we can
find the key, I will authorize you to open the chest, and to take such things
from it, as you may think will buy father’s ransom.”
“First find the key,
gal; we’ll talk of the rest a’terwards. Sarpent, you’ve eyes like a fly, and a
judgment that’s seldom out; can you help us, in calculating where Floating Tom
would be apt to keep the key of a chist that he holds to be as private as this.”
The Delaware had taken
no part in the discourse, until he was thus directly appealed to, when he
quitted the chest, which had continued to attract his attention, and cast about
him for the place in which a key would be likely to be concealed, under such
circumstances. As Judith and Deerslayer were not idle, the while, the whole
three were soon engaged in an anxious and spirited search. As it was certain
that the desired key was not to be found in any of the common drawers, or
closets, of which there were several in the building, none looked there, but
all turned their inquiries to those places that struck them as ingenious
hiding-places, and more likely to be used for such a purpose. In this manner
the outer room was thoroughly but fruitlessly examined; when they entered the
sleeping apartment of Hutter. This part of the rude building was better furnished
than the rest of the structure; containing several articles that had been
especially devoted to the service of the deceased wife of its owner; but as
Judith had all the rest of the keys, it was soon rummaged, without bringing to
light the particular key desired.
They now entered the
bed-room of the daughters. Chingachgook was immediately struck with the
contrast between the articles, and the arrangement, of that side of the room
that might be called Judith’s, and that which more properly belonged to Hetty.
A slight exclamation escaped him, and pointing in each direction, he alluded to
the fact in a low voice, speaking to his friend in the Delaware tongue.
“As you think, Sarpent,”
answered Deerslayer; whose remarks we always translate into English, preserving
as much as possible of the peculiar phraseology and manner of the man. “’T is
just so, as any one may see; and ’tis all founded in natur’. One sister loves
finery, some say, over-much; while t’other is as meek and lowly as God ever
created goodness and truth. Yet, after all, I dare say that Judith has her
vartues, and Hetty has her failin’s.”
“And the ‘Feeble-Mind’
has seen the chest opened?” inquired Chingachgook, with curiosity in his
glance.
“Sartain; that much I’ve
heard from her own lips; and, for that matter, so have you. It seems her father
doesn’t misgive her discretion, though he does that of his eldest darter.”
“Then, the key is hid
only from the Wild Rose?” for so Chingachgook had begun gallantly to term
Judith, in his private discourse with his friend.
“That’s it! That’s just
it! One he trusts, and the other he doesn’t. There’s red and white in that,
Sarpent; all tribes and nations agreeing in trusting some, and refusing to
trust other some. It depends on character and judgment.”
“Where could a key be
put, so little likely to be found by the Wild Rose, as among coarse clothes?”
Deerslayer started, and
turning to his friend, with admiration expressed in every lineament of his
face, he fairly laughed, in his silent but hearty manner, at the ingenuity and
readiness of the conjecture.
“Your name’s well
bestowed, Sarpent--yes, ’t is well bestowed! Sure enough, where would a lover
of finery be so little likely to s’arch, as among garments as coarse and
unseemly as these of poor Hetty. I dares to say, Judith’s delicate fingers
haven’t touched a bit of cloth as rough and oncomely as that petticoat, now,
since she first made acquaintance with the officers! Yet, who knows? the key
may be as likely to be on the same peg, as in any other place. Take down the
garment, Delaware, and let us see if you are ra’ally a prophet.”
Chingachgook did as
desired, but no key was found. A coarse pocket, apparently empty, hung on the
adjoining peg, and this was next examined. By this time, the attention of Judith
was called in that direction, and she spoke hurriedly, and like one who wished
to save unnecessary trouble.
“These are only the
clothes of poor Hetty, dear simple girl!” she said; “nothing we seek, would be
likely to be there.”
The words were hardly
out of the handsome mouth of the speaker, when Chingachgook drew the desired
key from the pocket. Judith was too quick of apprehension, not to understand
the reason a hiding-place, so simple and exposed, had been used. The blood
rushed to her face, as much with resentment, perhaps, as with shame; and she
bit her lip, though she continued silent. Deerslayer and his friend now
discovered the delicacy of men of native refinement, neither smiling, or even
by a glance betraying how completely he understood the motives and ingenuity of
this clever artifice. The former, who had taken the key from the Indian, led
the way into the adjoining room, and applying it to a lock, ascertained that
the right instrument had actually been found. There were three padlocks, each
of which, however, was easily opened by this single key. Deerslayer removed
them all, loosened the hasps, raised the lid a little to make certain it was
loose, and then he drew back from the chest, several feet, signing to his
friend to follow.
“This is a family
chist, Judith,” he said, “and ’t is like to hold family secrets. The Sarpent
and I will go into the ark, and look to the canoes, and paddles, and oars;
while you can examine it by yourself, and find out whether any thing that will
be a make-weight in a ransom, is, or is not, among the articles. When you’ve
got through, give us a call, and we’ll all sit in council, together, touching
the valie of the articles.”
“Stop, Deerslayer,”
exclaimed the girl, as he was about to withdraw; “not a single thing will I
touch--I will not even raise the lid--unless you are present. Father and Hetty
have seen fit to keep the inside of this chest a secret from me, and I am much
too proud to pry into their hidden treasures, unless it were for their own
good. But, on no account, will I open the chest alone. Stay with me, then; I
want witnesses of what I do.”
“I rather think,
Sarpent, that the gal is right! Confidence and reliance beget security, but
suspicion is like to make us all wary. Judith has a right to ask us to be
present; and should the chist hold any of Master Hutter’s secrets, they will
fall into the keeping of two as close-mouthed young men as are to be found. We
will stay with you, Judith--but, first let us take a look at the lake and the
shore, for this chist will not be emptied in a minute.”
The two men now went
out on the platform, and Deerslayer swept the shore with the glass, while the
Indian gravely turned his eye on the water and the woods, in quest of any sign
that might betray the machinations of their enemies. Nothing was visible, and
assured of their temporary security, the three collected around the chest,
again, with the avowed object of opening it.
Judith had held this
chest, and its unknown contents, in a species of reverence as long as she could
remember. Neither her father, nor her mother, ever mentioned it in her
presence; and there appeared to be a silent convention, that in naming the
different objects that occasionally stood near it, or even lay on its lid, care
should be had to avoid any allusion to the chest itself. Habit had rendered
this so easy, and so much a matter of course, that it was only quite recently
the girl had begun even to muse on the singularity of the circumstance. But
there had never been sufficient intimacy between Hutter and his eldest
daughter, to invite confidence. At times, he was kind, but in general, with her
more especially, he was stern and morose. Least of all had his authority been
exercised in a way to embolden his child to venture on the liberty she was about
to take, without many misgivings of the consequences, although the liberty
proceeded from a desire to serve himself. Then Judith was not altogether free
from a little superstition, on the subject of this chest, which had stood a
sort of tabooed relic before her eyes, from childhood to the present hour.
Nevertheless the time had come, when it would seem that this mystery was to be
explained, and that under circumstances, too, which left her very little choice
in the matter.
Finding that both her
companions were watching her movements, in grave silence, Judith placed a hand
on the lid, and endeavoured to raise it. Her strength, however, was
insufficient, and it appeared to the girl, who was fully aware that all the
fastenings were removed, that she was resisted in an unhallowed attempt, by
some supernatural power.
“I cannot raise the
lid, Deerslayer,” she said: “had we not better give up the attempt, and find
some other means of releasing the prisoners?”
“Not so, Judith; not
so, gal. No means are as sartain and easy, as a good bribe,” answered the
other. “As for the lid, ’t is held by nothing but its own weight, which is
prodigious for so small a piece of wood, loaded with iron as it is.”
As Deerslayer spoke, he
applied his own strength to the effort, and succeeded in raising the lid
against the timbers of the house, where he took care to secure it, by a
sufficient prop. Judith fairly trembled, as she cast her first glance at the
interior; and she felt a temporary relief in discovering that a piece of canvass,
that was carefully tucked in, around the edges, effectually concealed all
beneath it. The chest was apparently well stored, however, the canvass lying
within an inch of the lid.
“Here ’s a full cargo,”
said Deerslayer, eyeing the arrangement; “and we had needs go to work
leisurely, and at our ease. Sarpent, bring some stools, while I spread this
blanket on the floor, and then we ’ll begin work orderly, and in comfort.”
The Delaware complied;
Deerslayer civilly placed a stool for Judith, took one himself, and commenced
the removal of the canvass covering. This was done deliberately, and in as
cautious a manner, as if it were believed that fabrics of a delicate construction
lay hidden beneath. When the canvass was removed, the first articles that came
in view were some of the habiliments of the male sex. These were of fine
materials, and, according to the fashions of the age, were gay in colours, and
rich in ornaments. One coat, in particular, was of scarlet, and had
button-holes worked in gold thread. Still it was not military, but was part of
the attire of a civilian of condition, at a period when social rank was rigidly
respected in dress. Chingachgook could not refrain from an exclamation of
pleasure, as soon as Deerslayer opened this coat, and held it up to view; for,
notwithstanding all his trained self-command, the splendour of the vestment was
too much for the philosophy of an Indian. Deerslayer turned quickly, and he
regarded his friend with momentary displeasure, as this burst of weakness
escaped him; and then he soliloquized, as was his practice, whenever any strong
feeling suddenly got the ascendancy.
“T is his gift!--yes, ’t
is the gift of a red-skin to love finery, and he is not to be blamed. This is
an extr’ornary garment, too; and extr’ornary things get up extr’ornary feelin’s.
I think this will do, Judith, for the Indian heart is hardly to be found in all
America, that can withstand colours like these, and glitter like that. If this
coat was ever made for your father, you’ve come honestly by the taste for
finery, you have.”
“That coat was never
made for father,” answered the girl, quickly; “it is much too long; while
father is short and square.”
“Cloth was plenty, if
it was, and glitter cheap,” answered Deerslayer, with his silent, joyous laugh.
“Sarpent, this garment was made for a man of your size, and I should like to
see it on your shoulders.”
Chingachgook, nothing
loth, submitted to the trial; throwing aside the coarse and thread-bare jacket
of Hutter, to deck his person in a coat that was originally intended for a
gentleman. The transformation was ludicrous; but as men are seldom struck with
incongruities in their own appearance, any more than in their own conduct, the
Delaware studied this change in a common glass, by which Hutter was in the
habit of shaving, with grave interest. At that moment he thought of Hist, and
we owe it to truth to say, though it may militate a little against the stern
character of a warrior to own it, that he wished he could be seen by her, in
his present improved aspect.
“Off with it,
Sarpent--off with it,” resumed the inflexible Deerslayer; “such garments as
little become you, as they would become me. Your gifts are for paint, and hawk’s
feathers, and blankets, and wampum; and mine are for doublets of skin, tough
leggings, and sarviceable moccasins. I say moccasins, Judith; for though white,
living as I do, in the woods, it’s necessary to take to some of the practyces
of the woods, for comfort’s sake, and cheapness.”
“I see no reason,
Deerslayer, why one man may not wear a scarlet coat, as well as another,”
returned the girl. “I wish I could see you in this handsome garment.”
“See me in a coat fit
for a lord! Well, Judith, if you wait till that day, you’ll wait until you see
me beyond reason and memory. No--no--gal, my gifts are my gifts, and I’ll live
and die in ’em, though I never bring down another deer, or spear another
salmon. What have I done, that you should wish to see me in such a flaunting
coat, Judith!”
“Because I think,
Deerslayer, that the false-tongued and false-hearted young gallants of the
garrison, ought not alone to appear in fine feathers; but that truth and
honesty have their claims to be honoured and exalted.”
“And what
exaltification--” The reader will have remarked that Deerslayer had not very
critically studied his dictionary--“And what exaltification would it be to me,
Judith, to be bedizzened and bescarleted, like a Mingo chief that has just got
his presents up from Quebec? No--no-- I’m well as I am; and if not, I can be no
better. Lay the coat down on the blanket, Sarpent, and let us look further into
the chist.”
The tempting garment,
one surely that was never intended for Hutter, was laid aside, and the
examination proceeded. The male attire, all of which corresponded with the coat
in quality, was soon exhausted, and then succeeded female. A beautiful dress of
brocade, a little the worse from negligent treatment, followed; and this time
open exclamations of delight escaped the lips of Judith. Much as the girl had
been addicted to dress, and favourable as had been her opportunities of seeing
some little pretension in that way, among the wives of the different
commandants, and other ladies of the forts, never before had she beheld a
tissue, or tints to equal those that were now so unexpectedly placed before her
eyes. Her rapture was almost childish; nor would she allow the inquiry to
proceed until she had attired her person in a robe so unsuited to her habits
and her abode. With this end, she withdrew into her own room, where, with hands
practised in such offices, she soon got rid of her own neat gown of linen, and
stood forth in the gay tints of the brocade. The dress happened to fit the
fine, full, person of Judith, and certainly it had never adorned a being better
qualified by natural gifts, to do credit to its really rich hues and fine
texture. When she returned, both Deerslayer and Chingachgook, who had passed
the brief time of her absence, in taking a second look at the male garments,
arose in surprise, each permitting exclamations of wonder and pleasure to
escape him, in a way so unequivocal as to add new lustre to the eyes of Judith,
by flushing her cheeks with a glow of triumph. Affecting, however, not to
notice the impression she had made, the girl seated herself with the
stateliness of a queen, desiring that the chest might be looked into, further.
“I don’t know a better
way to treat with the Mingos, gal,” cried Deerslayer, “than to send you ashore,
as you be, and to tell’em that a queen has arrived among’em! They’ll give up
old Hutter, and Hurry, and Hetty, too, at such a spectacle!”
“I thought your tongue
too honest to flatter, Deerslayer,” returned the girl, gratified at this
admiration more than she would have cared to own. “One of the chief reasons of
my respect for you, was your love for truth.”
“And ’t is truth, and
solemn truth, Judith, and nothing else. Never did eyes of mine gaze on as
glorious a lookin’ creatur’, as you be yourself, at this very moment! I’ve seen
beauties in my time, too, both white and red; and them that was renowned and
talk’d of, far and near; but, never have I beheld one that could hold any
comparison with what you are at this blessed instant, Judith; never.”
The glance of delight
which the girl bestowed on the frank-speaking hunter, in no degree lessened the
effect of her charms; and as the humid eyes blended with it a look of
sensibility, perhaps Judith never appeared more truly lovely, than at what the
young man had called that “blessed instant.” He shook his head, held it
suspended a moment over the open chest, like one in doubt, and then proceeded
with the examination.
Several of the minor
articles of female dress came next, all of a quality to correspond with the
gown. These were laid at Judith’s feet, in silence, as if she had a natural
claim to their possession. One or two, such as gloves, and lace, the girl
caught up, and appended to her already rich attire, in affected playfulness,
but with the real design of decorating her person as far as circumstances would
allow. When these two remarkable suits, male and female they might be termed,
were removed, another canvass covering separated the remainder of the articles
from the part of the chest which they had occupied. As soon as Deerslayer
perceived this arrangement, he paused, doubtful of the propriety of proceeding
any further.
“Every man has his
secrets, I suppose,” he said, “and all men have a right to their enj’yment; we’ve
got low enough in this chist, in my judgment, to answer our wants, and it seems
to me we should do well by going no farther; and by letting Master Hutter have
to himself, and his own feelin’s, all that’s beneath this cover.”
“Do you mean,
Deerslayer, to offer these clothes to the Iroquois, as ransom?” demanded
Judith, quickly.
“Sartain. What are we
prying into another man’s chist for, but to sarve its owner, in the best way we
can. This coat, alone, would be very apt to gain over the head-chief of the
riptyles; and if his wife or darter should happen to be out with him, that
there gownd would soften the heart of any woman that is to be found atween
Albany and Montreal. I do not see that we want a larger stock in trade than
these two articles.”
“To you it may seem so,
Deerslayer,” returned the disappointed girl; “but of what use could a dress
like this be to any Indian woman? She could not wear it among the branches of
the trees; the dirt and smoke of the wigwam would soon soil it; and how would a
pair of red arms appear, thrust through these short, laced sleeves!”
“All very true, gal;
and you might go on and say, it is altogether out of time, and place, and
season, in this region at all. What is it to us how the finery is treated, so
long as it answers our wishes? I do not see that your father can make any use
of such clothes; and it’s lucky he has things that are of no valie to himself,
that will bear a high price with others. We can make no better trade for him,
than to offer these duds for his liberty. We’ll throw in the light frivol’ties,
and get Hurry off in the bargain!”
“Then you think,
Deerslayer, that Thomas Hutter has no one in his family--no child--no daughter,
to whom this dress may be thought becoming, and whom you could wish to see in
it, once and awhile, even though it should be at long intervals, and only in
playfulness?”
“I understand you,
Judith--yes, I now understand your meaning; and I think I can say, your wishes.
That you are as glorious, in that dress, as the sun when it rises, or sets, in
a soft October day, I’m ready to allow; and that you greatly become it, is a
good deal more sartain than that it becomes you. There’s gifts in clothes, as
well as in other things. Now I do not think that a warrior on his first path,
ought to lay on the same awful paints as a chief that has had his virtue tried,
and knows from exper’ence he will not disgrace his pretensions. So it is with
all of us, red or white. You are Thomas Hutter’s darter, and that gownd was
made for the child of some governor, or a lady of high station; and it was
intended to be worn among fine furniture, and in rich company. In my eyes,
Judith, a modest maiden never looks more becoming, than when becomingly clad,
and nothing is suitable that is out of character. Besides, gal, if there’s a
creatur’ in the colony that can afford to do without finery, and to trust to
her own good looks, and sweet countenance, it’s yourself.”
“I’ll take off the
rubbish this instant, Deerslayer,” cried the girl, springing up to leave the
room; “and never do I wish to see it on any human being, again.”
“So it is with ’em all,
Sarpent,” said the other, turning to his friend and laughing, as soon as the
beauty had disappeared. “They like finery, but they like their natyve charms
most of all. I’m glad the gal has consented to lay aside her furbelow,
howsever, for it’s ag’in reason for one of her class to wear ’em; and then she
is handsome enough, as I call it, to go alone. Hist would show oncommon likely,
too, in such a gownd, Delaware!”
“Wah-ta!-Wah is a
red-skin girl, Deerslayer,” returned the Indian; “like the young of the pigeon,
she is to be known by her own feathers. I should pass by without knowing her,
were she dressed in such a skin. It’s wisest always to be so clad that our
friends need not ask us for our names. The ‘Wild Rose’ is very pleasant, but
she is no sweeter for so many colours.”
“That’s it!--that’s
natur’, and the true foundation for love and protection. When a man stops to
pick a wild strawberry, he does not expect to find a melon; and when he wishes
to gather a melon, he’s disapp’inted if it prove to be a squash; though
squashes be often brighter to the eye than melons. That’s it, and it means,
stick to your gifts, and your gifts will stick to you.”
The two men had now a
little discussion together, touching the propriety of penetrating any farther
into the chest of Hutter, when Judith re-appeared, divested of her robes, and
in her own simple, linen frock again.
“Thank you, Judith,”
said Deerslayer, taking her kindly by the hand; “for I know it went a little ag’in
the nat’ral cravings of woman, to lay aside so much finery, as it might be in a
lump. But you’re more pleasing to the eye as you stand, you be, than if you had
a crown on your head, and jewels dangling from your hair. The question now is,
whether to lift this covering, to see what will be ra’ally the best bargain we
can make for Master Hutter; for we must do as we think he would be willing to
do, did he stand here in our places.”
Judith looked very
happy. Accustomed as she was to adulation, the humble homage of Deerslayer had
given her more true satisfaction, than she had ever yet received from the
tongue of man. It was not the terms in which this admiration had been
expressed, for they were simple enough, that produced so strong an impression;
nor yet their novelty, or their warmth of manner, nor any of those
peculiarities that usually give value to praise; but the unflinching truth of
the speaker, that carried his words so directly to the heart of the listener.
This is one of the great advantages of plain dealing and frankness. The
habitual and wily flatterer may succeed until his practices recoil on himself;
and like other sweets, his aliment cloys by its excess; but he who deals
honestly, though he often necessarily offend, possesses a power of praising
that no quality but sincerity can bestow; since his words go directly to the
heart, finding their support in the understanding. Thus it was with Deerslayer
and Judith; so soon and so deeply did this simple hunter impress all who knew
him, with a conviction of his unbending honesty, that all he uttered in
commendation was as certain to please, as all he uttered in the way of rebuke
was certain to rankle and excite enmity, where his character had not awakened a
respect and affection, that in another sense rendered it painful. In after
life, when the career of this untutored being brought him in contact with
officers of rank, and others entrusted with the care of the interests of the
state, this same influence was exerted on a wider field; even generals listening
to his commendations with a glow of pleasure, that it was not always in the
power of their official superiors to awaken. Perhaps Judith was the first
individual of his own colour, who fairly submitted to this natural consequence
of truth and fair-dealing, on the part of Deerslayer. She had actually pined
for his praise, and she had now received it; and that in the form which was
most agreeable to her weaknesses and habits of thought. The result will appear
in the course of the narrative.
“If we knew all that
chest holds, Deerslayer,” returned the girl, when she had a little recovered
from the immediate effect produced by his commendations of her personal
appearance; “we could better determine on the course we ought to take.”
“That’s not
onreasonable, gal, though it’s more a paleface than a red-skin gift, to be
prying into other people’s secrets.”
“Curiosity is natural,
and it is expected that all human beings should have human failings. Whenever I’ve
been at the garrisons, I’ve found that most, in and about them, had a longing
to learn their neighbour’s secrets.”
“Yes, and sometimes to
fancy them, when they couldn’t find’em out! That’s the difference atween an
Indian gentleman, and a white gentleman. The Sarpent, here, would turn his head
aside, if he found himself onknowingly lookin’ into another chief’s wigwam;
whereas, in the settlements, while all pretend to be great people, most prove
they’ve got betters, by the manner in which they talk of their consarns. I’ll
be bound, Judith, you wouldn’t get the Sarpent, there, to confess there was
another in the tribe so much greater than himself, as to become the subject of
his idees, and to empl’y his tongue in conversations about his movements, and
ways, and food, and all the other little matters that occupy a man when he’s
not empl’y’d in his greater duties. He who does this, is but little better than
a blackguard in the grain, and them that encourages him, is pretty much of the
same kidney, let them wear coats as fine as they may, or of what dye they please.”
“But this is not
another man’s wigwam; it belongs to my father; these are his things, and they
are wanted in his service.”
“That’s true, gal, that’s
true; and it carries weight with it. Well, when all is before us, we may,
indeed, best judge, which to offer for the ransom, and which to withhold.”
Judith was not
altogether as disinterested in her feelings, as she affected to be. She
remembered that the curiosity of Hetty had been indulged, in connection with
this chest, while her own had been disregarded; and she was not sorry to
possess an opportunity of being placed on a level with her less gifted sister,
in this one particular. It appearing to be admitted all round, that the inquiry
into the contents of the chest ought to be pushed further, Deerslayer proceeded
to remove the second covering of canvass.
The articles that lay
uppermost, when the curtain was again raised on the secrets of the chest, were
a pair of pistols, curiously inlaid with silver. Their value would have been
considerable, in one of the towns, though as weapons, in the woods, they were a
species of arms seldom employed; never, indeed, unless it might be by some
officer from Europe, who visited the colonies, as many were then wont to do, so
much impressed with the superiority of the usages of London, as to fancy they
were not to be laid aside on the frontier of America. What occurred on the
discovery of these weapons, will appear, in the succeeding chapter.
“An oaken, broken,
elbow chair;
A candle-cup without an
ear;
A battered, shattered,
ash bedstead;
A box of deal without a
lid;
A pair of tongs, but
out of joint;
A back-sword poker,
without point;
A dish which might good
meat afford once;
An Ovid, and an old
Concordance.”
Dean Swift’s Inventory. No sooner
did Deerslayer raise the pistols, than he turned to the Delaware, and held them
up, for his admiration.
“Child gun,” said the
Serpent, smiling, while he handled one of the instruments as if it had been a
toy.
“Not it, Sarpent; not
it. ’T is made for a man, and would satisfy a giant, if rightly used. But stop;
white men are remarkable for their carelessness in putting away fire-arms, in
chists and corners. Let me look if care has been given to these we’pons.”
As Deerslayer spoke, he
took the weapon from the hand of his friend, and opened the pan. The last was
filled with priming, caked like a bit of cinder, by time, moisture, and
compression. An application of the ramrod showed that both the pistols were
charged, although Judith could testify that they had probably lain for years in
the chest. It is not easy to portray the surprise of the Indian, at this
discovery, for he was in the practice of renewing his priming daily, and of
looking to the contents of his piece, at other short intervals.
“This is white neglect,”
said Deerslayer, shaking his head, “and scarce a season goes by, that some one
in the settlements doesn’t suffer from it. It’s extr’ornary too, Judith -- yes,
it’s downright extr’ornary, that the owner shall fire his piece at a deer, or
some other game, or perhaps at an inimy, and twice out of three times he’ll
miss; but let him catch an accident with one of these forgotten charges, and he
makes it sartain death to a child, or a brother, or a fri’nd! Well, we shall do
a good turn to the owner if we fire these pistols for him; and as they’re
novelties to you and me, Sarpent, we’ll try our hands at a mark. Freshen that
priming, and I’ll do the same with this, and then we’ll see who is the best man
with a pistol; as for the rifle, that’s long been settled atween us.”
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 to 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 fire-arms.
She had discharged many a rifle, and had even been known to kill a deer, under
circumstances that were favourable 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,
endeavoured 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 red-skin 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 colour is colour.”
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 into a seat, and we must do the best for her that our
knowledge and skill can afford.”
Judith suffered herself
to be supported to a seat, swallowed a mouthful of the water that the Delaware
offered 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 simple-minded 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 away the
traces of tears, however, she smiled again, and was soon able to join in the
laugh at her own folly.
“And you, Deerslayer,”
she at length succeeded in saying, “are you, indeed, altogether unhurt? It seems
almost miraculous that a pistol should have burst in your hand, and you escape
without the loss of a limb, if not of life!”
“Such wonders ar’n’t
oncommon, at all, among wornout arms. The first rifle they gave me play’d the
same trick, and yet I lived through it, though not as onharmless as I’ve got
out of this affair. Thomas Hutter is master of one pistol less than he was this
morning; but, as it happened in trying to sarve him, there’s no ground of
complaint. Now, draw near, and let us look further into the inside of the
chist.”
Judith, by this time,
had so far gotten the better of her agitation as to resume her seat, and the
examination went on. The next article that offered was enveloped in cloth, and,
on opening it, it proved to be one of the mathematical instruments that were
then in use among seamen, possessing the usual ornaments and fastenings, in
brass. Deerslayer and Chingachgook expressed their admiration and surprise at
the appearance of the unknown instrument, which was bright and glittering,
having apparently been well cared for.
“This goes beyond the
surveyors, Judith,” Deerslayer exclaimed, after turning the instrument several
times in his hands; “I’ve seen all their tools, often, and wicked and heartless
enough are they, for they never come into the forest but to lead the way to
waste and destruction; but none of them have as designing a look as this! I
fear me, after all, that Thomas Hutter has journeyed into the wilderness with
no fair intentions towards its happiness. Did you ever see any of the cravings
of a surveyor about your father, gal?”
“He is no surveyor,
Deerslayer, nor does he know the use of that instrument, though he seems to own
it. Do you suppose that Thomas Hutter ever wore that coat? It is as much too
large for him as this instrument is beyond his learning.”
“That’s it -- that must
be it, Sarpent; and the old fellow, by some onknown means, has fallen heir to
another man’s goods! They say he has been a mariner, and, no doubt, this chist,
and all it holds -- Ha! what have we here? This far out-does the brass and
black wood of the tool!”
Deerslayer had opened a
small bag, from which he was taking, one by one, the pieces of a set of
chessmen. They were of ivory, much larger than common, and exquisitely wrought.
Each piece represented the character or thing after which it is named; the
knights being mounted, the castles stood on elephants, and even the pawns
possessed the heads and busts of men. The set was not complete, and a few
fractures betrayed bad usage; but all that was left had been carefully put away
and preserved. Even Judith expressed wonder, as these novel objects were placed
before her eyes, and Chingachgook fairly forgot his Indian dignity in
admiration and delight. The latter took up each piece, and examined it with
never-tiring satisfaction, pointing out to the girl the more ingenious and
striking portions of the workmanship. But the elephants gave him the greatest
pleasure. The “Hughs!” that he uttered, as he passed his fingers over their
trunks, and ears, and tails, were very distinct; nor did he fail to note the
pawns, which were armed as archers. This exhibition lasted several minutes,
during which time Judith and the Indian had all the rapture to themselves.
Deerslayer sat silent, thoughtful, and even gloomy, though his eyes followed
each movement of the two principal actors, noting every new peculiarity about
the pieces as they were held up to view. Not an exclamation of pleasure, nor a
word of commendation passed his lips. At length his companions observed his
silence, and then, for the first time since the chessmen had been discovered,
did he speak.
“Judith,” he asked
earnestly, but with a concern that amounted almost to tenderness of manner, “did
your parents ever talk to you of religion?”
The girl coloured, and
the flashes of crimson that passed over her beautiful countenance, were like
the wayward tints of a Neapolitan sky in November. Deerslayer had given her so
strong a taste for truth, however, that she did not waver in her answer,
replying simply and with sincerity.
“My mother did, often,”
she said; “my father never. I thought it made my mother sorrowful to speak of
our prayers and duties, but my father has never opened his mouth on such
matters, before or since her death.”
“That I can believe --
that I can believe. He has no God -- no such God as it becomes a man of white
skin to worship, or even a red-skin. Them things are idols!”
Judith started, and for
a moment she seemed seriously hurt. Then she reflected, and, in the end, she
laughed.
“And you think,
Deerslayer, that these ivory toys are my father’s gods? I have heard of idols,
and know what they are.”
“Them are idols!”
repeated the other positively. “Why should your father keep ’em, if he doesn’t
worship ’em?”
“Would he keep his gods
in a bag, and locked up in a chest? No, no, Deerslayer; my poor father carries
his god with him, wherever he goes, and that is in his own cravings. These
things may really be idols -- I think they are, myself, from what I have heard
and read of idolatry, but they have come from some distant country, like all
the other articles, and have fallen into Thomas Hutter’s hands when he has been
a sailor.”
“I’m glad of it -- I am
downright glad to hear it, Judith, for I do not think I could have mustered the
resolution to strive to help a white idolator out of his difficulties! The old
man is of my colour and nation, and I wish to sarve him; but as one who denied
all his gifts, in the way of religion, it would have come hard to do so. That
animal seems to give you great satisfaction, Sarpent, though it’s an idolatrous
head, at the best.”
“It is an elephant,”
interrupted Judith. “I’ve often seen pictures of such animals, at the
garrisons; and mother had a book in which there was a printed account of the
creature. Father burnt that, with all the other books, for he said mother loved
reading too well. This was not long before mother died, and I’ve sometimes
thought that the loss hastened her end.”
This was said equally
without levity and without any deep feeling. It was said without levity, for
Judith was saddened by her recollections, and yet she had been too much
accustomed to live for self, and for the indulgence of her own vanities, to
feel her mother’s wrongs very heavily. It required extraordinary circumstances
to awaken a proper sense of her situation, and to stimulate the better feelings
of this beautiful, but misguided girl; and these circumstances had not yet
occurred in her brief existence.
“Elephant, or no
elephant, ’t is an idol,” returned the hunter, “and not fit to remain in
Christian keeping.”
“Good for Iroquois!”
said Chingachgook, parting with one of the castles with reluctance, as his
friend took it from him to replace it in the bag. “Elephon buy whole tribe --
buy Delaware, almost!”
“Ay, that it would, as
any one who comprehends red-skin natur’ must know,” answered Deerslayer; “but
the man that passes false money, Sarpent, is as bad as he who makes it. Did you
ever know a just Indian that wouldn’t scorn to sell a coon-skin for the true
marten, or to pass off a mink for a beaver. I know that a few of these idols,
perhaps one of them elephants, would go far towards buying Thomas Hutter’s
liberty, but it goes ag’in conscience to pass such counterfeit money. Perhaps
no Indian tribe, hereaway, is downright idolators, but there’s some that come
so near it, that white gifts ought to be particular about encouraging them in
their mistake.”
“If idolatry is a gift,
Deerslayer, and gifts are what you seem to think them, idolatry in such people
can hardly be a sin,” said Judith, with more smartness than discrimination.
“God grants no such
gifts to any of his creatur’s, Judith,” returned the hunter seriously. “He must
be adored, under some name or other, and not creatur’s of brass or ivory. It
matters not whether the Father of all is called God, or Manitou, Deity or Great
Spirit, he is none the less our common Maker and Master; nor does it count for
much whether the souls of the just go to Paradise, or happy hunting-grounds,
since He may send each his own way, as suits his own pleasure and wisdom; but
it curdles my blood, when I find human mortals so bound up in darkness and
consait, as to fashion the ’arth, or wood, or bones--things made by their own
hands--into motionless, senseless effigies, and then fall down before them, and
worship ’em as a Deity!”
“After all, Deerslayer,
these pieces of ivory may not be idols at all. I remember, now, to have seen
one of the officers at the garrison, with a set of fox and geese made in some
such a design as these; and here is something hard, wrapped in cloth, that may
belong to your idols.”
Deerslayer took the
bundle the girl gave him, and, unrolling it, he found the board within. Like
the pieces, it was large, rich, and inlaid with ebony and ivory. Putting the
whole in conjunction, the hunter, though not without many misgivings, slowly
came over to Judith’s opinion, and finally admitted that the fancied idols must
be merely the curiously carved men of some unknown game. Judith had the tact to
use her victory with great moderation; nor did she once, even in the most
indirect manner, allude to the ludicrous mistake of her companion.
This discovery of the
uses of the extraordinary-looking little images, settled the affair of the
proposed ransom. It was agreed generally--and all understood the weaknesses and
tastes of Indians--that nothing could be more likely to tempt the cupidity of
the Iroquois, than the elephants, in particular. Luckily, the whole of the castles
were among the pieces, and these four tower-bearing animals it was finally
determined should be the ransom offered. The remainder of the men, and, indeed,
all the rest of the articles in the chest, were to be kept out of view, and to
be resorted to only as a last appeal. As soon as these preliminaries were
settled, every thing but those intended for the bribe was carefully replaced in
the chest, and all the covers were ‘tucked in,’ as they had been found; and it
was quite possible, could Hutter have been put in possession of the castle
again, that he might have passed the remainder of his days in it, without even
suspecting the invasion that had been made on the privacy of the chest. The
rent pistol would have been the most likely to reveal the secret; but this was
placed by the side of its fellow, and all were pressed down as before--some
half-a-dozen packages in the bottom of the chest not having been opened at all.
When this was done, the lid was lowered, the padlocks replaced, and the key
turned. The latter was then replaced in the pocket from which it had been
taken.
More than an hour was
consumed in settling the course proper to be pursued, and in returning every
thing to its place. The pauses to converse were frequent; and Judith, who
experienced a lively pleasure in the open, undisguised admiration with which
Deerslayer’s honest eye gazed at her handsome face, found the means to prolong
the interview, with a dexterity that seems to be innate in female coquetry.
Deerslayer, indeed, appeared to be the first who was conscious of the time that
had been thus wasted, and to call the attention of his companions to the
necessity of doing something towards putting the plan of ransoming into
execution. Chingachgook had remained in Hutter’s bed-room, where the elephants
were laid, to feast his eyes with the images of animals so wonderful, and so
novel. Perhaps an instinct told him that his presence would not be as
acceptable to his companions, as this holding himself aloof; for Judith had not
much reserve in the manifestations of her preferences, and the Delaware had not
got so far as one betrothed without acquiring some knowledge of the symptoms of
the master passion.
“Well, Judith,” said
Deerslayer, rising, after the interview had lasted much longer than even he
himself suspected, “’t is pleasant convarsing with you, and settling all these
matters, but duty calls us another way. All this time, Hurry and your father,
not to say Hetty--”
The word was cut short
in the speaker’s mouth, for, at that critical moment, a light step was heard on
the platform, or court-yard, a human figure darkened the door-way, and the
person last mentioned stood before him. The low exclamation that escaped
Deerslayer and the slight scream of Judith were hardly uttered, when an Indian
youth, between the ages of fifteen and seventeen, stood beside her. These two
entrances had been made with moccasined feet, and consequently almost without
noise; but, unexpected and stealthy as they were, they had not the effect to
disturb Deerslayer’s self-possession. His first measure was to speak rapidly in
Delaware to his friend, cautioning him to keep out of sight, while he stood on
his guard; the second, was to step to the door to ascertain the extent of the
danger. No one else, however, had come; and a simple contrivance, in the shape
of a raft, that lay floating at the side of the ark, at once explained the
means that had been used in bringing Hetty off. Two dead and dry, and
consequently buoyant, logs of pine were bound together with pins and withes,
and a little platform of riven chestnut had been rudely placed on their
surfaces. Here Hetty had been seated, on a billet of wood, while the young
Iroquois had rowed the primitive and slow-moving, but perfectly safe, craft,
from the shore. As soon as Deerslayer had taken a close survey of this raft,
and satisfied himself nothing else was near, he shook his head, and muttered in
his soliloquizing way--
“This comes of prying
into another man’s chist! Had we been watchful, and keen-eyed, such a surprise
could never have happened; and getting this much from a boy, teaches us what we
may expect when the old warriors set themselves fairly about their
sarcumventions. It opens the way, howsever, to a treaty for the ransom, and I
will hear what Hetty has to say.”
Judith, as soon as her
surprise and alarm had a little abated, discovered a proper share of
affectionate joy, at the return of her sister. She folded her to her bosom, and
kissed her, as had been her wont in the days of their childhood and innocence.
Hetty herself was less affected, for to her there was no surprise, and her
nerves were sustained by the purity and holiness of her purpose. At her sister’s
request she took a seat, and entered into an account of her adventures since
they had parted. Her tale commenced just as Deerslayer returned, and he also
became an attentive listener, while the young Iroquois stood near the door,
seemingly as indifferent to what was passing, as one of its posts.
The narrative of the
girl was sufficiently clear, until she reached the time where we left her in
the camp, after the interview with the chiefs, and at the moment when Hist
quitted her, in the abrupt manner already stated. The sequel of the story may
be told in her own language.
“When I read the texts
to the chiefs, Judith, you could not have seen that they made any changes on
their minds,” she said, “but if seed is planted, it will grow. God planted the
seeds of all the trees--”
“Ay, that did he--that
did he,” muttered Deerslayer; “and a goodly harvest has followed.”
“God planted the seeds
of all the trees,” continued Hetty, after a moment’s pause, “and you see to
what a height and shade they have grown! So it is with the bible. You may read
a verse this year, and forget it, and it will come back to you a year hence,
when you least expect to remember it.”
“And did you find any
thing of this, among the savages, poor Hetty?”
“Yes, Judith, and
sooner, and more fully than I had even hoped. I did not stay long with father
and Hurry, but went to get my breakfast with Hist. As soon as we had done, the
chiefs came to us, and then we found the fruits of the seed that had been
planted. They said what I had read from the good book was right--it must be
right--it sounded right; like a sweet bird singing in their ears; and they told
me to come back and say as much to the great warrior who had slain one of their
braves; and to tell it to you, and to say how happy they should be to come to
church here, in the castle, or to come out in the sun, and hear me read more of
the sacred volume--and to tell you that they wish you would lend them some
canoes, that they can bring father and Hurry, and their women to the castle,
that we might all sit on the platform there, and listen to the singing of the
pale-face Manitou.--There, Judith; did you ever know of any thing that so
plainly shows the power of the bible, as that!”
“If it were true’t
would be a miracle, indeed, Hetty. But all this is no more than Indian cunning
and Indian treachery, striving to get the better of us by management, when they
find it is not to be done by force.”
“Do you doubt the
Bible, sister, that you judge the savages so harshly!”
“I do not doubt the
Bible, poor Hetty, but I much doubt an Indian and an Iroquois. What do you say
to this visit, Deerslayer?”
“First let me talk a
little with Hetty,” returned the party appealed to; “was this raft made after
you had got your breakfast, gal; and did you walk from the camp to the shore
opposite to us, here?”
“Oh! no, Deerslayer.
The raft was ready made, and in the water--could that have been by a miracle,
Judith!”
“Yes--yes--an Indian
miracle,” rejoined the hunter. “They’re expart enough in them sort of miracles.
And you found the raft ready made to your hands, and in the water, and in
waiting like for its cargo?”
“It was all as you say.
The raft was near the camp, and the Indians put me on it, and had ropes of
bark, and they dragged me to the place opposite to the castle, and then they
told that young man to row me off, here.”
“And the woods are full
of the vagabonds, waiting to know what is to be the upshot of the miracle. We
comprehend this affair, now, Judith, and I’ll first get rid of this young
Canadian blood-sucker, and then we’ll settle our own course. Do you and Hetty
leave us together, first bringing me the elephants, which the Sarpent is
admiring; for ’t will never do to let this loping deer be alone a minute, or he’ll
borrow a canoe without asking.”
Judith did as desired,
first bringing the pieces, and retiring with her sister into their own room.
Deerslayer had acquired some knowledge of most of the Indian dialects of that
region, and he knew enough of the Iroquois to hold a dialogue in the language.
Beckoning to the lad, therefore, he caused him to take a seat on the chest,
when he placed two of the castles suddenly before him. Up to that moment, this
youthful savage had not expressed a single intelligible emotion, or fancy.
There were many things, in and about the place, that were novelties to him, but
he had maintained his self-command with philosophical composure. It is true,
Deerslayer had detected his dark eye scanning the defences and the arms, but
the scrutiny had been made with such an air of innocence, in such a gaping,
indolent, boyish manner, that no one but a man who had himself been taught in a
similar school, would have even suspected his object. The instant, however, the
eyes of the savage fell upon the wrought ivory, and the images of the
wonderful, unknown beasts, surprise and admiration got the mastery of him. The
manner in which the natives of the South Sea Islands first beheld the toys of
civilized life, has been often described; but the reader is not to confound it
with the manner of an American Indian, under similar circumstances. In this
particular case, the young Iroquois, or Huron, permitted an exclamation of
rapture to escape him, and then he checked himself, like one who had been
guilty of an indecorum. After this, his eyes ceased to wander, but became
riveted on the elephants, one of which, after a short hesitation, he even
presumed to handle. Deerslayer did not interrupt him for quite ten minutes;
knowing that the lad was taking such note of the curiosities, as would enable
him to give the most minute and accurate description of their appearance, to
his seniors, on his return. When he thought sufficient time had been allowed to
produce the desired effect, the hunter laid a finger on the naked knee of the
youth, and drew his attention to himself.
“Listen,” he said; “I
want to talk with my young friend from the Canadas. Let him forget that wonder
for a minute.”
“Where t’other pale
brother?” demanded the boy, looking up, and letting the idea that had been most
prominent in his mind, previously to the introduction of the chess-men, escape
him involuntarily.
“He sleeps--or if he
isn’t fairly asleep, he is in the room, where the men do sleep,” returned
Deerslayer. “How did my young friend know there was another?”
“See him from the
shore. Iroquois have got long eyes-- see beyond the clouds--see the bottom of
the great spring!”
“Well, the Iroquois are
welcome. Two pale-faces are prisoners in the camp of your fathers, boy.”
The lad nodded,
treating the circumstance with great aptant. Deerslayer seated himself on a
stool, and watched the progress of the ambassador; sometimes closely scanning
the whole line of shore, as far as eye could reach, and then placing an elbow
on a knee, he remained a long time with his chin resting on the hand.
During the interview
between Deerslayer and the lad, a different scene took place in the adjoining
room. Hetty had inquired for the Delaware, and being told why and where he
remained concealed, she joined him. The reception which Chingachgook gave his
visiter was respectful and gentle. He understood her character; and, no doubt,
his disposition to be kind to such a being was increased by the hope of
learning some tidings of his betrothed. As soon as the girl entered, she took a
seat, and invited the Indian to place himself near her, and then she continued
silent, as if she thought it decorous for him to question her, before she
consented to speak on the subject she had on her mind. But, as Chingachgook did
not understand this feeling, he remained respectfully attentive to any thing
she might be pleased to tell him.
“You are
Chingachgook--the Great Serpent of the Delawares, ar’n’t you?” the girl at
length commenced, in her own simple way, losing her self-command in the desire
to proceed, but anxious first to make sure of the individual.
“Chingachgook,”
returned the Delaware, with grave dignity. “That say Great Sarpent, in
Deerslayer tongue.”
“Well, that is my
tongue. Deerslayer, and father, and Judith, and I, and poor Hurry Harry--do you
know Henry March, Great Serpent? I know you don’t, however, or he would have
spoken of you, too.”
“Did any tongue name
Chingachgook, Drooping-Lily?” for so the chief had named poor Hetty. “Was his
name sung by a little bird among the Iroquois?”
Hetty did not answer at
first; but, with that indescribable feeling that awakens sympathy and
intelligence among the youthful and unpractised of her sex, she hung her head,
and the blood suffused her cheek, ere she found her tongue. It would have
exceeded her stock of intelligence to explain this embarrassment; but, though
poor Hetty could not reason on every emergency, she could always feel. The
colour slowly receded from her cheek, and the girl looked up archly at the
Indian, smiling with the innocence of a child, mingled with the interest of a
woman.
“My sister, the
Drooping-Lily, hear such bird!” Chingachgook added, and this with a gentleness
of tone and manner, that would have astonished those who sometimes heard the
discordant cries that often came from the same throat; these transitions from
the harsh and guttural, to the soft and melodious, not being infrequent in
ordinary Indian dialogues. “My sister’s ears were open--has she lost her
tongue?”
“You are
Chingachgook--you must be; for there is no other red man here, and she thought
Chingachgook would come.”
“Chin-gach-gook,”
pronouncing the name slowly, and dwelling on each syllable; “Great Sarpent,
Yengeese* tongue.”
“Chin-gach-gook,”
repeated Hetty, in the same deliberate manner. “Yes, so Hist called it, and you
must be the chief.”
“Wah-ta!-Wah,” added
the Delaware.
“Wah-ta!-Wah, or
Hist-oh!-Hist. I think Hist prettier than Wah, and so I call her Hist.”
“Wah! very sweet, in
Delaware ears!”
“You make it sound
differently from me. But, never mind; I did hear the bird you speak of sing,
Great Serpent.”
“Will my sister say
words of song? What she sing most --how she look--often she laugh?”
“She sang
Chin-gach-gook oftener than any thing else; and she laughed heartily, when I
told how the Iroquois waded into the water after us, and couldn’t catch us. I
hope these logs haven’t ears, Serpent!”
“No fear logs; fear
sister next room. No fear Iroquois; Deerslayer stuff his eyes and ears, with
strange beast.”
“I understand you,
Serpent, and I understood Hist. Sometimes I think I’m not half as feeble-minded
as they say I am. Now, do you look up at the roof, and I’ll tell you all. But
you frighten me, you look so eager, when I speak of Hist.”
The Indian controlled
his looks, and affected to comply with the simple request of the girl.
“Hist told me to say,
in a very low voice, that you mustn’t trust the Iroquois in any thing. They are
more artful than any Indians she knows. Then she says that there is a large
bright star, that comes over the hill, about an hour after dark,--(Hist had
pointed out the planet Jupiter, without knowing it)--and just as that star
comes in sight, she will be on the point where I landed last night, and that
you must come for her, in a canoe.”
“Good--Chingachgook
understand well enough, now; but he understand better, if my sister sing to
him, ag’in.”
Hetty repeated her
words, more fully explaining what star was meant, and mentioning the part of
the point where he was to venture ashore. She now proceeded in her own
unsophisticated way to relate her intercourse with the Indian maid, and to
repeat several of her expressions and opinions, that gave great delight to the
heart of her betrothed. She particularly renewed her injunctions to be on their
guard against treachery; a warning that was scarcely needed, however, as
addressed to men as wary as those to whom it was sent. She also explained, with
sufficient clearness--for on all such subjects the mind of the girl seldom
failed her--the present state of the enemy, and the movements they had made
since morning. Hist had been on the raft with her, until it quitted the shore;
and was now somewhere in the woods, opposite to the castle, and did not intend
to return to the camp, until night approached; when she hoped to be able to
slip away from her companions, as they followed the shore on their way home,
and conceal herself on the point. No one appeared to suspect the presence of
Chingachgook, thought it was necessarily known that an Indian had entered the
ark, the previous night, and it was suspected that he had since appeared in and
about the castle, in the dress of a pale-face. Still some little doubt existed
on the latter point; for, as this was the season when white men might be
expected to arrive, there was some fear that the garrison of the castle was
increasing by these ordinary means. All this had Hist communicated to Hetty
while the Indians were dragging them along shore; the distance, which exceeded
six miles, affording abundance of time.
“Hist don’t know,
herself, whether they suspect her or not, or, whether they suspect you; but she
hopes neither is the case. And now, Serpent, since I have told you so much from
your betrothed,” continued Hetty, unconsciously taking one of the Indian’s
hands, and playing with the fingers, as a child is often seen to play with
those of a parent; “you must let me tell you something from myself. When you
marry Hist, you must be kind to her, and smile on her, as you do now on me; and
not look cross, as some of the chiefs do at their squaws. Will you promise
this?”
“Alway good to
Wah!--too tender to twist hard; else she break.”
“Yes, and smile, too;
you don’t know how much a girl craves smiles from them she loves. Father scarce
smiled on me once, while I was with him--and, Hurry--yes-- Hurry talked loud,
and laughed; but I don’t think he smiled once either. You know the difference
between a smile and a laugh?”
“Laugh, best. Hear Wah!
laugh, think bird sing!”
“I know that; her laugh
is pleasant, but you must smile. And then, Serpent, you mustn’t make her carry
burthens and hoe corn, as so many Indians do; but treat her more as the
pale-faces treat their wives.”
“Wah-ta!-Wah no
pale-face--got red skin; red heart, red feelin’s. All red; no pale-face. Must
carry papoose.”
“Every woman is willing
to carry her child,” said Hetty, smiling; “and there is no harm in that. But
you must love Hist, and be gentle, and good to her; for she is gentle and good
herself.”
Chingachgook gravely
bowed, and then he seemed to think this part of the subject might be dismissed.
Before there was time for Hetty to resume her communications, the voice of
Deerslayer was heard calling on his friend, in the outer room. At this summons
the Serpent arose to obey, and Hetty joined her sister.
“ ‘A stranger animal,’
cries one,
‘Sure never lived
beneath the sun;
A lizard’s body, lean
and long,
A fish’s head, a
serpent’s tongue,
Its foot, with triple
claw disjoined;
And what a length of
tail behind!’ ”
Merrick The first act of the
Delaware, on rejoining his friend, was to proceed gravely to disencumber
himself of his civilized attire, and to stand forth an Indian warrior again.
The protest of Deerslayer was met by his communicating the fact that the
presence of an Indian in the hut, was known to the Iroquois, and that his
maintaining the disguise would be more likely to direct suspicions to his real
object, than if he came out openly as a member of a hostile tribe. When the
latter understood the truth, and was told that he had been deceived in
supposing the chief had succeeded in entering the ark undiscovered, he
cheerfully consented to the change, since further attempt at concealment was
useless. A gentler feeling than the one avowed, however, lay at the bottom of
the Indian’s desire to appear as a son of the forest. He had been told that
Hist was on the opposite shore; and nature so far triumphed over all
distinctions of habit, and tribes, and people, as to reduce this young savage
warrior to the level of a feeling which would have been found in the most
refined inhabitant of a town, under similar circumstances. There was a mild
satisfaction in believing that she he loved could see him; and as he walked out
on the platform, in his scanty, native attire, an Apollo of the wilderness, a
hundred of the tender fancies that fleet through lovers’ brains, beset his
imagination and softened his heart.
All this was lost on
Deerslayer, who was no great adept in the mysteries of Cupid, but whose mind
was far more occupied with the concerns that forced themselves on his
attention, than with any of the truant fancies of love. He soon recalled his
companion, therefore, to a sense of their actual condition, by summoning him to
a sort of council of war, in which they were to settle their future course. In
the dialogue that followed, the parties mutually made each other acquainted
with what had passed in their several interviews. Chingachgook was told the
history of the treaty about the ransom; and Deerslayer heard the whole of Hetty’s
communications. The latter listened with generous interest to his friend’s
hopes, and promised cheerfully all the assistance he could lend.
“ ’T is our main ar’n’d,
Sarpent, as you know; this battling for the castle and old Hutter’s darters,
coming in as a sort of accident. Yes--yes--I’ll be actyve in helping little
Hist, who’s not only one of the best and handsomest maidens of the tribe, but
the very best and handsomest. I’ve always encouraged you, chief, in that
liking; and it’s proper, too, that a great and ancient race like your’n shouldn’t
come to an end. If a woman of red skin and red gifts, could get to be near
enough to me to wish her for a wife, I’d s’arch for just such another, but that
can never be; no, that can never be. I’m glad Hetty has met with Hist,
howsever, for though the first is a little short of wit and understanding, the
last has enough for both. Yes, Sarpent,” laughing heartily, “put’em together,
and two smarter gals isn’t to be found in all York colony!”
“I will go to the
Iroquois camp,” returned the Delaware, gravely. “No one knows Chingachgook but
Wah!, and a treaty for lives and scalps should be made by a chief! Give me the
strange beasts, and let me take a canoe.”
Deerslayer dropped his
head, and played with the end of a fish-pole in the water, as he sate dangling
his legs over the edge of the platform, like a man who was lost in thought, by
the sudden occurrence of a novel idea. Instead of directly answering the
proposal of his friend, he began to sotiloquize; a circumstance, however, that
in no manner rendered his words more true, as he was remarkable for saying what
he thought, whether the remarks were addressed to himself, or to any one else.
“Yes--yes,” he said, “this
must be what they call love! I’ve heard say that it sometimes upsets reason
altogether, leaving a young man as helpless, as to calculation and caution, as
a brute beast. To think that the Sarpent should be so lost to reason, and
cunning, and wisdom! We must, sartainly, manage to get Hist off, and have’em
married as soon as we get back to the tribe, or this war will be of no more use
to the chief, than a hunt a little oncommon and extr’ornary. Yes--yes--he’ll
never be the man he was, till this matter is off his mind, and he comes to his
senses, like all the rest of mankind. Sarpent, you can’t be in airnest, and
therefore I shall say but little to your offer. But you’re a chief, and will
soon be sent out on the war-path at the head of parties, and I’ll just ask if
you’d think of putting your forces into the inimy’s hands, afore the battle is
fou’t?’
“Wah!” ejaculated the
Indian.
“Ay--Wah!--I know well
enough it’s Wah!, and altogether Wah! Ra’ally, Sarpent, I’m consarned and
mortified about you! I never heard so weak an idee come from a chief, and he,
too, one that’s already got a name for being wise, young and inexper’enced as
he is. Canoe you shan’t have, so long as the v’ice of fri’ndship and warning
can count for any thing.”
“My pale-face friend is
right. A cloud came over the face of Chingachgook, and weakness got into his
mind, while his eyes were dim. My brother has a good memory for good deeds, and
a weak memory for bad. He will forget.”
“Yes, that’s easy
enough. Say no more about it chief; but if another of them clouds blow near
you, do your endivour to get out of its way. Clouds are bad enough in the
weather; but when they come to the reason, it gets to be serious. Now, sit down
by me here, and let us calculate our movements a little, for we shall soon
either have a truce and a peace, or we shall come to an actyve, and bloody war.
You see the vagabonds can make logs serve their turn, as well as the best
raftsmen on the rivers; and it would be no great expl’ite for them to invade us
in a body. I’ve been thinking of the wisdom of putting all old Tom’s stores
into the ark, of barring and locking up the castle, and of taking to the ark,
altogether. That is moveable, and by keeping the sail up, and shifting places,
we might worry through a great many nights, without them Canada wolves finding
a way into our sheep-fold.”
Chingachgook listened
to this plan, with approbation. Did the negotiation fail, there was now little
hope that the night would pass without an assault; and the enemy had sagacity
enough to understand, that, in carrying the castle, they would probably become
masters of all it contained, the offered ransom included, and still retain the
advantages they had hitherto gained. Some precaution of the sort appeared to be
absolutely necessary; for now the numbers of the Iroquois were known, a night
attack could scarcely be successfully met. It would be impossible to prevent
the enemy from getting possession of the canoes and the ark, and the latter
itself would be a hold in which the assailants would be as effectually
protected against bullets as were those in the building. For a few minutes,
both the men thought of sinking the ark in the shallow water, of bringing the
canoes into the house, and of depending altogether on the castle for
protection. But reflection satisfied them that, in the end, this expedient
would fail. It was so easy to collect logs on the shore, and to construct a
raft of almost any size, that it was certain the Iroquois, now they had turned
their attention to such means, would resort to them seriously, so long as there
was the certainty of success by perseverance. After deliberating maturely, and
placing all the considerations fairly before them, the two young beginners in
the art of forest warfare, settled down into the opinion, that the ark offered
the only available means of security. This decision was no sooner come to, than
it was communicated to Judith. The girl had no serious objection to make, and
then all four set about the measures necessary to carrying the plan into
execution.
The reader will readily
understand that Floating Tom’s worldly goods were of no great amount. A couple
of beds, some wearing apparel, the arms and ammunition, a few cooking utensils,
with the mysterious, and but half-examined chest, formed the principal items.
These were all soon removed, the ark having been hauled on the eastern side of
the building, so that the transfer could be made without being seen from the
shore. It was thought unnecessary to disturb the heavier and coarser articles
of furniture, as they were not required in the ark, and were of but little
value in themselves. As great caution was necessary in removing the different
objects, most of which were passed out of a window with a view to conceal what
was going on, it required two or three hours before all could be effected. By
the expiration of that time, the raft made its appearance, moving from the
shore. Deerslayer immediately had recourse to the glass, by the aid of which he
perceived that two warriors were on it, though they appeared to be unarmed. The
progress of the raft was slow, a circumstance that formed one of the great
advantages that would be possessed by the scow, in any future collision between
them; the movements of the latter being comparatively swift and light. As there
was time to make the dispositions for the reception of the two dangerous
visiters, every thing was prepared for them, long before they had got near
enough to be hailed. The Serpent and the girls retired into the building, where
the former stood near the door, well provided with rifles; while Judith watched
the proceedings without through a loop. As for Deerslayer, he had brought a
stool to the edge of the platform, at the point towards which the raft was
advancing, and taken his seat, with his rifle leaning carelessly between his
legs.
As the raft drew
nearer, every means possessed by the party in the castle was resorted to, in
order to ascertain if their visiters had any fire-arms. Neither Deerslayer nor
Chingachgook could discover any; but Judith, unwilling to trust to simple
eye-sight, thrust the glass through the loop, and directed it towards the
hemlock boughs that lay between the two logs of the raft, forming a sort of
flooring, as well as a seat for the use of the rowers. When the heavy-moving
craft was within fifty feet of him, Deerslayer hailed the Hurons, directing
them to cease rowing, it not being his intention to permit them to land.
Compliance, of course, was necessary, and the two grim-looking warriors instantly
quitted their seats, though the raft continued slowly to approach, until it had
driven in much nearer to the platform.
“Are ye chiefs?”
demanded Deerslayer, with dignity.-- “Are ye chiefs?--or have the Mingos sent
me warriors without names, on such an ar’n’d? If so, the sooner ye go back, the
sooner the one will be likely to come that a warrior can talk with.”
“Hugh!” exclaimed the
elder of the two on the raft, rolling his glowing eyes over the different
objects that were visible in and about the castle, with a keenness that showed
how little escaped him. “My brother is very proud, but Rivenoak (we use the
literal translation of the term, writing as we do in English) is a name to make
a Delaware turn pale.”
“That’s true, or it’s a
lie, Rivenoak, as it may be; but I am not likely to turn pale, seeing that I
was born pale. What’s your ar’n’d, and why do you come among light bark canoes,
on logs that are not even dug out?”
“The Iroquois are not
ducks, to walk on water! Let the pale-faces give them a canoe, and they’ll come
in a canoe.”
“That’s more rational,
than likely to come to pass. We have but four canoes, and being four persons,
that’s only one for each of us. We thank you for the offer, howsever, though we
ask leave not to accept it. You are welcome, Iroquois, on your logs.”
“Thanks--my young
pale-face warrior--he has got a name--how do the chiefs call him?”
Deerslayer hesitated a
moment, and a gleam of pride and human weakness came over him. He smiled,
muttered between his teeth, and then looking up proudly, he said--
“Mingo, like all who
are young and actyve, I’ve been known by different names, at different times.
One of your warriors whose spirit started for the happy-grounds of your people,
as lately as yesterday morning, thought I desarved to be known by the name of
Hawkeye; and this because my sight happened to be quicker than his own, when it
got to be life or death, atween us.”
Chingachgook, who was
attentively listening to all that passed, heard and understood this proof of
passing weakness in his friend, and on a future occasion he questioned him more
closely concerning the whole transaction on the point, where Deerslayer had
first taken human life. When he had got the whole truth, he did not fail to
communicate it to the tribe; from which time the young hunter was universally
known among the Delawares, by an appellation so honourably earned. As this,
however, was a period posterior to all the incidents of this tale, we shall
continue to call the young hunter by the name under which he has been first
introduced to the reader. Nor was the Iroquois less struck with the vaunt of
the white man. He knew of the death of his comrade, and had no difficulty in
understanding the allusion; the intercourse between the conqueror and his
victim on that occasion, having been seen by several savages on the shore of
the lake, who had been stationed at different points just within the margin of
the bushes, to watch the drifting canoes, and who had not time to reach the
scene of action ere the victor had retired. The effect on this rude being of
the forest, was an exclamation of surprise; then such a smile of courtesy, and
wave of the hand, succeeded, as would have done credit to Asiatic diplomacy.
The two Iroquois spoke to each other, in low terms, and both drew near the end
of the raft that was closest to the platform.
“My brother, Hawkeye,
has sent a message to the Hurons,” resumed Rivenoak, “and it has made their
hearts very glad. They hear he has images of beasts with two tails! Will he
show them to his friends?”
“Inimies would be
truer,” returned Deerslayer; “but sound isn’t sense, and does little harm. Here
is one of the images; I toss it to you under faith of treaties. If it’s not
returned, the rifle will settle the p’int atween us.”
The Iroquois seemed to
acquiesce in the conditions, and Deerslayer arose and prepared to toss one of
the elephants to the raft, both parties using all the precaution that was
necessary to prevent its loss. As practice renders men expert in such things,
the little piece of ivory was soon successfully transferred from one hand to
the other; and then followed another scene on the raft, in which astonishment
and delight got the mastery of Indian stoicism. These two grim old warriors
manifested even more feeling, as they examined the curiously-wrought chess-man,
than had been betrayed by the boy; for, in the case of the latter, recent
schooling had interposed its influence; while the men, like all who are
sustained by well-established characters, were not ashamed to let some of their
emotions be discovered. For a few minutes they apparently lost all
consciousness of their situation, in the intense scrutiny they bestowed on a
material so fine, work so highly wrought, and an animal so extraordinary. The
lip of the moose is, perhaps, the nearest approach to the trunk of the elephant
that is to be found in the American forest; but this resemblance was far from
being sufficiently striking to bring the new creature within the range of their
habits and ideas, and the more they studied the image, the greater was their
astonishment. Nor did these children of the forest mistake the structure on the
back of the elephant for a part of the animal. They were familiar with horses
and oxen, and had seen towers in the Canadas, and found nothing surprising in
creatures of burthen. Still, by a very natural association, they supposed the
carving meant to represent that the animal they saw was of a strength
sufficient to carry a fort on its back; a circumstance that in no degree
lessened their wonder.
“Has my pale-face
brother any more such beasts?” at last the senior of the Iroquois asked, in a
sort of petitioning manner.
“There’s more where
them came from, Mingo,” was the answer; “one is enough, however, to buy off
fifty scalps.”
“One of my prisoners is
a great warrior--tall as a pine-- strong as the moose--active as a deer--fierce
as the panther! Some day he’ll be a great chief, and lead the army of King
George!”
“Tut--tut--Mingo; Harry
Hurry is Harry Hurry, and you’ll never make more than a corporal of him, if you
do that. He’s tall enough, of a sartainty; but that’s of no use, as he only
hits his head ag’in the branches as he goes through the forest. He’s strong,
too; but a strong body isn’t a strong head, and the king’s generals are not
chosen for their sinews. He’s swift, if you will, but a rifle-bullet is
swifter; and as for f’erceness, it’s no great recommend to a soldier; they that
think they feel the stoutest, often givin’ out at the pinch. No--no--you’ll
never make Hurry’s scalp pass for more than a good head of curly hair, and a
rattlepate beneath it!”
“My old prisoner very
wise--king of the lake--great warrior, wise counsellor!”
“Well, there’s them
that might gainsay all this, too, Mingo. A very wise man wouldn’t be apt to be
taken in so foolish a manner as befel Master Hutter; and if he gives good
counsel, he must have listened to bad, in all that affair. There’s only one
king of this lake, and he’s a long way off, and isn’t likely ever to see it.
Floating Tom is some such king of this region, as the wolf that prowls through
the woods, is king of the forest. A beast with two tails is well worth two such
scalps!”
“But my brother has
another beast?--He will give two,” holding up as many fingers, “for old father?”
“Floating Tom is no
father of mine, but he’ll fare none the worse for that. As for giving two
beasts for his scalp, and each beast with two tails, it is quite beyond reason.
Think yourself well off, Mingo, if you make a much worse trade.”
By this time the
self-command of Rivenoak had got the better of his wonder, and he began to fall
back on his usual habits of cunning, in order to drive the best bargain he
could. It would be useless to relate more than the substance of the desultory
dialogue that followed, in which the Indian manifested no little management, in
endeavouring to recover the ground lost under the influence of surprise. He
even affected to doubt whether any original for the image of the beast existed,
and asserted that the oldest Indian had never heard a tradition of any such
animal. Little did either of them imagine, at the time, that long ere a century
elapsed, the progress of civilization would bring even much more extraordinary
and rare animals into that region, as curiosities to be gazed at by the
curious, and that the particular beast, about which the disputants contended,
would be seen laving its sides and swimming in the very sheet of water on which
they had met. As is not uncommon on such occasions, one of the parties got a
little warm, in the course of the discussion; for Deerslayer met all the
arguments and pre- varications of his subtle opponent, with his own cool
directness of manner, and unmoved love of truth. What an elephant was, he knew
little better than the savage; but he perfectly understood that the carved
pieces of ivory must have some such value in the eyes of an Iroquois, as a bag
of gold, or a package of beaver-skins, would in those of a trader. Under the
circumstances, therefore, he felt it to be prudent not to concede too much at
first, since there existed a nearly unconquerable obstacle to making the
transfers, even after the contracting parties had actually agreed upon the
terms. Keeping this difficulty in view, he held the extra chess-men in reserve,
as a means of smoothing any difficulty in the moment of need.
At length the savage
pretended that further negotiation was useless, since he could not be so unjust
to his tribe as to part with the honour and emoluments of two excellent,
full-grown, male scalps, for a consideration so trifling as two toys like those
he had seen--and he prepared to take his departure. Both parties now felt as
men are wont to feel, when a bargain that each is anxious to conclude, is on
the eve of being broken off, in consequence of too much pertinacity in the way
of management. The effect of the disappointment was very different, however, on
the respective individuals. Deerslayer was mortified, and filled with regret;
for he not only felt for the prisoners, but he also felt deeply for the two
girls. The conclusion of the treaty, therefore, left him melancholy and full of
regret. With the savage, his defeat produced the savage desire of revenge. In a
moment of excitement, he had loudly announced his intention to say no more; and
he felt equally enraged with himself and with his cool opponent, that he had
permitted a pale-face to manifest more indifference and self-command than an
Indian chief. When he began to urge his raft away from the platform, his
countenance lowered, and his eye glowed, even while he affected a smile of
amity and a gesture of courtesy, at parting.
It took some little
time to overcome the vis inertiœ of the logs, and while this was doing by the
silent Indian, Rivenoak stalked over the hemlock boughs that lay between the
logs, in sullen ferocity, eyeing keenly the while, the hut, the platform, and
the person of his late disputant. Once he spoke in low, quick terms to his
companion, and he stirred the boughs with his feet, like an animal that is
restive. At that moment, the watchfulness of Deerslayer had a little abated,
for he sat musing on the means of renewing the negotiation without giving too
much advantage to the other side. It was perhaps fortunate for him that the
keen and bright eyes of Judith were as vigilant as ever. At the instant when
the young man was least on his guard, and his enemy was the most on the alert,
she called out, in a warning voice, to the former, most opportunely giving the
alarm.
“Be on your guard, Deerslayer,”
the girl cried; “I see rifles, with the glass, beneath the hemlock brush, and
the Iroquois is loosening them with his feet!”
It would seem that the
enemy had carried their artifices so far as to employ an agent who understood
English. The previous dialogue had taken place in his own language, but it was
evident, by the sudden manner in which his feet ceased their treacherous
occupation, and in which the countenance of Rivenoak changed from sullen
ferocity to a smile of courtesy, that the call of the girl was understood.
Signing to his companion to cease his efforts to set the logs in motion, he
advanced to the end of the raft which was nearest to the platform, and spoke.
“Why should Rivenoak
and his brother leave any cloud between them?” he said. “They are both wise,
both brave, and both generous; they ought to part friends. One beast shall be
the price of one prisoner.”
“And, Mingo,” answered
the other, delighted to renew the negotiation on almost any terms, and
determined to clinch the bargain if possible by a little extra liberality, “you’ll
see that a pale-face knows how to pay a full price, when he trades with an open
heart, and an open hand. Keep the beast that you had forgotten to give back to
me, as you was about to start, and which I forgot to ask for, on account of
consarn at parting in anger. Show it to your chiefs. When you bring us our fri’nds,
two more shall be added to it--and--” hesitating a moment in distrust of the
expediency of so great a concession, then, deciding in its favour--“and, if we
see them afore the sun sets, we may find a fourth, to make up an even number.”
This settled the
matter. Every gleam of discontent vanished from the dark countenance of the
Iroquois, and he smiled as graciously, if not as sweetly, as Judith Hutter,
herself. The piece already in his possession was again examined, and an
ejaculation of pleasure showed how much he was pleased with this unexpected
termination of the affair. In point of fact, both he and Deerslayer had
momentarily forgotten what had become of the subject of their discussion, in
the warmth of their feelings; but such had not been the case with Rivenoak’s
companion. This man retained the piece, and had fully made up his mind, were it
claimed under such circumstances as to render its return necessary, to drop it
in the lake, trusting to his being able to find it again, at some future day.
This desperate expedient, however, was no longer necessary; and, after
repeating the terms of agreement, and professing to understand them, the two Indians
finally took their departure, moving slowly towards the shore.
“Can any faith be put
in such wretches?” asked Judith, when she and Hetty had come out on the
platform, and were standing at the side of Deerslayer, watching the dull
movement of the logs. “Will they not rather keep the toy they have, and send us
off some bloody proofs of their getting the better of us in cunning, by way of
boasting? I’ve heard of acts as bad as this.”
“No doubt--Judith; no
manner of doubt, if it wasn’t for Indian natur’. But I’m no judge of a
red-skin, if that two-tail’d beast doesn’t set the whole tribe in some such
stir, as a stick raises in a beehive! Now, there’s the Sarpent; a man with
narves like flint, and no more cur’osity in every-day consarns, than is
befitting prudence.--Why he was so overcome with the sight of the creatur’,
carved as it is in bone, that I felt ashamed for him! That’s just their gifts,
however, and one can’t well quarrel with a man for his gifts, when they are
lawful. Chingachgook will soon get over his weakness, and remember that he’s a
chief, and that he comes of a great stock, and has a renowned name to support
and uphold; but, as for yonder scamps, there’ll be no peace among’em, until
they think they’ve got possession of every thing of the natur’ of that bit of
carved bone, that’s to be found among Thomas Hutter’s stores!”
“They only know of the
elephants, and can have no hopes about the other things.”
“That’s true, Judith;
still, covetousness is a craving feelin’. They ’ll say, if the pale-faces have
these curious beasts with two tails, who knows but they’ve got some with three,
or, for that matter, with four! That’s what the schoolmasters call nat’ral
arithmetic, and ’t will be sartain to beset the feelin’s of savages. They ’ll
never be easy, till the truth is known.”
“Do you think,
Deerslayer,” inquired Hetty, in her simple and innocent manner, “that the
Iroquois won’t let father and Hurry go? -- I read to them several of the very
best verses in the whole Bible, and you see what they have done, already.”
The hunter, as he
always did, listened kindly and even affectionately to Hetty’s remarks: then he
mused a moment in silence. There was something like a flush on his cheek, as he
answered, after quite a minute had passed.
“I don’t know whether a
white man ought to be ashamed, or not, to own he can’t read; but such is my
case, Judith. You are skilful, I find, in all such matters, while I have only
studied the hand of God, as it is seen in the hills and the valleys, the
mountain-tops, the streams, the forest, and the springs. Much l’arning may be
got in this way, as well as out of books; and, yet, I sometimes think it is a
white man’s gift to read! When I hear from the mouths of the Moravians, the
words of which Hetty speaks, they raise a longing in my mind, and I think I
will know how to read ’em myself; but the game in summer, and the traditions,
and lessons in war, and other matters, have always kept me behindhand.”
“Shall I teach you,
Deerslayer?” asked Hetty, earnestly. “I’m weak-minded, they say, but I can read
as well as Judith. It might save your life, to know how to read the Bible to
the savages, and it will certainly save your soul; for mother told me that,
again and again!”
“Thankee, Hetty -- yes,
thankee, with all my heart. There are like to be too stirring times for much
idleness; but, after it ’s peace, and I come to see you ag’in on this lake,
then I ’ll give myself up to it, as if ’twas pleasure and profit, in a single
business. Perhaps I ought to be ashamed, Judith, that ’t is so; but truth is
truth. As for these Iroquois, ’tisn’t very likely they ’ll forget a beast with
two tails, on account of a varse or two from the Bible. I rather expect they ’ll
give up the prisoners, and trust to some sarcumvention, or other, to get ’em back
ag’in, with us and all in the castle, and the ark, in the bargain. Howsever, we
must humour the vagabonds, first, to get your father and Hurry out of their
hands, and next, to keep the peace atween us, until such time as the Sarpent
there, can make out to get off his betrothed wife. If there’s any sudden
outbreakin’ of anger and ferocity, the Indians will send off all their women
and children to the camp, at once; whereas, by keeping ’em calm and trustful,
we may manage to meet Hist, at the spot she has mentioned. Rather than have the
bargain fall through, now, I ’d throw in half a dozen of them effigy
bow-and-arrow men, such as we ’ve in plenty in the chist.”
Judith cheerfully
assented, for she would have resigned even the flowered brocade, rather than
not redeem her father, and please Deerslayer.
The prospects of
success were now so encouraging, as to raise the spirits of all in the castle,
though a due watchfulness on the movements of the enemy, was maintained. Hour
passed after hour, notwithstanding, and the sun had once more begun to fall
towards the summits of the western hills, and yet no signs were seen of the
return of the raft. By dint of sweeping the shore with the glass, Deerslayer at
length discovered a place in the dense and dark woods, where, he entertained no
doubt, the Iroquois were assembled in considerable numbers. It was near the
thicket whence the raft had issued, and a little rill that trickled into the
lake announced the vicinity of a spring. Here, then, the savages were probably holding
their consultation, and the decision was to be made that went to settle the
question of life or death for the prisoners. There was one ground for hope in
spite of the delay, however, that Deerslayer did not fail to place before his
anxious companions. It was far more probable that the Indians had left their
prisoners in the camp, than that they had encumbered themselves, by causing
them to follow through the woods, a party that was out on a merely temporary
excursion. If such was the fact, it required considerable time to send a
messenger the necessary distance, and to bring the two white men to the spot
where they were to embark. Encouraged by these reflections, a new stock of
patience was gathered, and the declension of the sun was viewed with less alarm.
The result justified
Deerslayer’s conjecture. Not long before the sun had finally disappeared, the
two logs were seen coming out of the thicket, again; and, as it drew near,
Judith announced that her father and Hurry, both of them pinioned, lay on the
bushes in the centre. As before, the Indians were rowing. The latter seemed to
be conscious that the lateness of the hour demanded unusual exertions, and
contrary to the habits of their people, who are ever averse to toil, they
laboured hard at the rude substitutes for oars. In consequence of this
diligence, the raft occupied its old station, in about half the time that had
been taken in the previous visits.
Even after the
conditions were so well understood, and matters had proceeded so far, the
actual transfer of the prisoners was not a duty to be executed without
difficulty. The Iroquois were compelled to place great reliance on the good
faith of their foes, though it was reluctantly given, and was yielded to
necessity rather than to confidence. As soon as Hutter and Hurry should be
released, the party in the castle numbered two to one, as opposed to those on
the raft, and escape by flight was out of the question, as the former had three
bark canoes, to say nothing of the defences of the house and the ark. All this
was understood by both parties, and it is probable the arrangement never could
have been completed, had not the honest countenance and manner of Deerslayer
wrought their usual effect on Rivenoak.
“My brother knows I put
faith in him,” said the latter, as he advanced with Hutter, whose legs had been
released to enable the old man to ascend to the platform. “One scalp --one more
beast.”
“Stop, Mingo,”
interrupted the hunter, “keep your prisoner a moment. I have to go and seek the
means of payment.”
This excuse, however,
though true in part, was principally a fetch. Deerslayer left the platform, and
entering the house, he directed Judith to collect all the arms, and to conceal
them in her own room. He then spoke earnestly to the Delaware, who stood on
guard as before, near the entrance of the building, put the three remaining
castles in his pocket, and returned.
“You are welcome back,
to your old abode, Master Hutter,” said Deerslayer, as he helped the other up
on the platform, slily passing into the hand of Rivenoak, at the same time,
another of the castles. “You ’ll find your darters right glad to see you; and
here’s Hetty come herself, to say as much in her own behalf.”
Here the hunter stopped
speaking of his own accord, and broke out into a hearty fit of his silent and
peculiar laughter. Hurry’s legs were just released, and he had been placed on
his feet. So tightly had the ligatures been drawn, that the use of his limbs
was not immediately recovered, and the young giant presented, in good sooth, a
very helpless and a somewhat ludicrous picture. It was this unusual spectacle,
particularly the bewildered countenance, that excited the merriment of
Deerslayer.
“You look like a
girdled pine in a clearin’, Harry Hurry, that is rocking in a gale,” said
Deerslayer, checking his unseasonable mirth, more from delicacy to the others,
than from any respect to the liberated captive. “I ’m glad, howsever, to see
that you haven’t had your hair dressed by any of the Iroquois barbers, in your
late visit to their camp.”
“Harkee, Deerslayer,”
returned the other, a little fiercely; “it will be prudent for you to deal less
in mirth, and more in friendship, on this occasion. Act like a Christian, for
once, and not like a laughing gal in a country school, when the master’s back
is turned, and just tell me whether there’s any feet, or not, at the end of
these legs of mine. I think I can see them, but as for feelin’, they might as
well be down on the banks of the Mohawk, as where they seem to be.”
“You ’ve come off whole,
Hurry, and that ’s not a little,” answered the other, secretly passing to the
Indian the remainder of the stipulated ransom, and making an earnest sign, at
the same moment, for him to commence his retreat. “You ’ve come off whole, feet
and all, and are only a little numb, from a tight fit of the withes. Natur’ll
soon set the blood in motion, and then you may begin to dance, to celebrate
what I call a most wonderful and onexpected deliverance from a den of wolves.”
Deerslayer released the
arms of his friends, as each landed,
“As long as Edwarde
rules thys lande,
Ne quiet you wylle
know;
Your sonnes and
husbandes shall be slayne,
And brookes with bloode
shall flowe.”
“You leave youre goode
and lawfulle kynge,
Whenne ynne adversitye;
Like me, untoe the true
cause stycke,
And for the true cause
dye.”
Chatterton. The calm of
evening was again in singular contrast, while its gathering gloom was in as
singular unison, with the passions of men. The sun was set, and the rays of the
retiring luminary had ceased to gild the edges of the few clouds that had
sufficient openings to admit the passage of its fading light. The canopy
overhead was heavy and dense, promising another night of darkness, but the
surface of the lake was scarcely disturbed by a ripple. There was a little air,
though it scarce deserved to be termed wind. Still, being damp and heavy, it
had a certain force. The party in the castle were as gloomy and silent as the
scene. The two ransomed prisoners felt humbled and dishonoured, but their
humility partook of the rancour of revenge. They were far more disposed to
remember the indignity with which they had been treated during the last few
hours of their captivity, than to feel grateful for the previous indulgence.
Then that keen-sighted monitor conscience, by reminding them of the retributive
justice of all they had endured, goaded them, rather to turn the tables on
their enemies, than to accuse themselves. As for the others, they were
thoughtful equally from regret and joy. Deerslayer and Judith felt most of the
former sensation, though from very different causes, while Hetty for the moment
was perfectly happy. The Delaware had also lively pictures of felicity in the
prospect of so soon regaining his betrothed. Under such circumstances, and in
this mood, all were taking the evening meal.
“Old Tom!” cried Hurry,
bursting into a fit of boisterous laughter, “you look’d amazin’ly like a
tethered bear, as you was stretched on them hemlock boughs, and I only wonder
you didn’t growl more. Well, it’s over, and syth’s and lamentations won’t mend
the matter! There’s the blackguard Rivenoak, he that brought us off, has an
oncommon scalp, and I’d give as much for it myself as the Colony. Yes, I feel
as rich as the governor, in these matters now, and will lay down with them
doubloon for doubloon. Judith, darling, did you mourn for me much, when I was
in the hands of the Philipsteins.”
The last were a family
of German descent on the Mohawk, to whom Hurry had a great antipathy, and whom
he had confounded with the enemies of Judea.
“Our tears have raised
the lake, Harry March, as you might have seen by the shore!” returned Judith,
with a feigned levity that she was far from feeling. “That Hetty and I should
have grieved for father, was to be expected; but we fairly rained tears for
you.”
“We were sorry for poor
Hurry, as well as for father, Judith!” put in her innocent and unconscious
sister.
“True, girl, true; but
we feel sorrow for everybody that’s in trouble, you know,” returned the other in
a quick, admonitory manner, and a low tone. “Nevertheless, we are glad to see
you, Master March, and out of the hands of the Philipsteins, too.”
“Yes, they’re a bad
set, and so is the other brood of ’em, down on the river. It’s a wonderment to
me, how you got us off, Deerslayer; and I forgive you the interference that
prevented my doin’ justice on that vagabond, for this small service. Let us
into the secret, that we may do you the same good turn, at need. Was it by
lying, or by coaxing?”
“By neither, Hurry, but
by buying. We paid a ransom for you both, and that, too, at a price so high,
you had well be on your guard ag’in another captyvement, lest our stock of
goods shouldn’t hold out.”
“A ransom! -- Old Tom
has paid the fiddler, then, for nothing of mine would have bought off the hair,
much less the skin. I didn’t think men as keen set as them vagabonds, would let
a fellow up so easy, when they had him fairly at a close hug, and floored. But
money is money, and somehow it’s unnat’ral hard to withstand. Indian, or white
man, ’tis pretty much the same. It must be owned Judith, there’s a considerable
of human natur’ in mankind ginirally, after all!”
Hutter now rose, and
signing to Deerslayer, he led him to an inner room, where, in answer to his
questions, he first learned the price that had been paid for his release. The
old man expressed neither resentment nor surprise at the inroad that had been
made on his chest, though he did manifest some curiosity to know how far the
investigation of its contents had been carried. He also inquired where the key
had been found. The habitual frankness of Deerslayer prevented any
prevarication, and the conference soon terminated by the return of the two to
the outer room, or that which served for the double purpose of parlour and
kitchen.
“I wonder if it ’s
peace or war, between us and the savages!” exclaimed Hurry, just as Deerslayer,
who had paused for a single instant, listened attentively, and was passing
through the outer door without stopping. “This givin’ up captives has a
friendly look, and when men have traded together, on a fair and honourable
footing, they ought to part fri’nds, for that occasion, at least. Come back,
Deerslayer, and let us have your judgment, for I ’m beginnin’ to think more of
you, since your late behaviour, than I used to do.”
“There’s an answer to
your question, Hurry, since you ’re in such haste to come ag’in to blows.”
As Deerslayer spoke, he
threw on the table, on which the other was reclining with one elbow, a sort of
miniature fagot, composed of a dozen sticks bound tightly together with a
deer-skin thong. March seized it eagerly, and holding it close to a blazing
knot of pine that lay on the hearth, and which gave out all the light there was
in the room, ascertained that the ends of the several sticks had been dipped in
blood.
“If this isn’t plain
English,” said the reckless frontier man, “it ’s plain Indian! Here’s what they
call a dicliration of war, down at York, Judith. How did you come by this
defiance, Deerslayer?”
“Fairly enough. It lay,
not a minut’ since, in what you call Floatin’ Tom’s door yard.”
“How came it there? It
never fell from the clouds, Judith, as little toads sometimes do, and then it
don’t rain. You must prove where it come from, Deerslayer, or we shall suspect
some design to skear them that would have lost their wits long ago, if fear
could drive ’em away.”
Deerslayer had
approached a window, and cast a glance out of it, on the dark aspect of the
lake. As if satisfied with what he beheld, he drew near Hurry, and took the
bundle of sticks into his own hand, examining it attentively.
“Yes, this is an Indian
dicliration of war, sure enough,” he said, “and it ’s a proof how little you ’re
suited to be on the path it has travelled, Harry March, that it has got here,
and you never the wiser, as to the means. The savages may have left the scalp
on your head, but they must have taken off the ears; else you ’d have heard the
stirring of the water made by the lad as he come off ag’in, on his two logs.
His ar’n’d was to throw these sticks at our door, as much as to say, we ’ve
struck the war-pool since the trade, and the next thing will be to strike you.”
“The prowling wolves!
But hand me that rifle, Judith, and I ’ll send an answer back to the vagabonds
through their messenger.”
“Not while I stand by,
Master March,” coolly put in Deerslayer, motioning for the other to forbear. “Faith
is faith, whether given to a red-skin, or to a Christian. The lad lighted a
knot, and came off fairly, under its blaze, to give us this warning; and no man
here should harm him, while empl’yed on such an ar’n’d. There ’s no use in
words, for the boy is too cunning to leave the knot burning, now his business
is done, and the night is already too dark for a rifle to have any sartainty.”
“That may be true
enough, as to a gun, but there’s virtue still in a canoe,” answered Hurry,
passing towards the door with enormous strides, carrying a rifle in his hands. “The
being doesn’t live that shall stop me from following, and bringing back that
riptyle’s scalp. The more on ’em that you crush in the egg, the fewer there ’ll
be to dart at you in the woods!”
Judith trembled like
the aspen, she scarce knew why herself, though there was the prospect of a
scene of violence; for, if Hurry was fierce, and overbearing in the
consciousness of his vast strength, Deerslayer had about him the calm
determination that promises greater perseverance, and a resolution more likely
to effect its object. It was the stern, resolute eye of the latter, rather than
the noisy vehemence of the first, that excited her apprehensions. Hurry soon
reached the spot where the canoe was fastened, but not before Deerslayer had
spoke in a quick, earnest voice to the Serpent, in Delaware. The latter had
been the first, in truth, to hear the sounds of the oars, and he had gone upon
the platform, in jealous watchfulness. The light satisfied him that a message
was coming, and when the boy cast his bundle of sticks at his feet, it neither
moved his anger, nor induced surprise. He merely stood at watch, rifle in hand,
to make certain that no treachery lay behind the defiance. As Deerslayer now
called to him, he stepped into the canoe, and quick as thought removed the
paddles. Hurry was furious when he found that he was deprived of the means of proceeding.
He first approached the Indian with loud menaces, and even Deerslayer stood
aghast at the probable consequences. March shook his sledge-hammer fists, and
flourished his arms, as he drew near the Indian, and all expected he would
attempt to fell the Delaware to the earth; one of them, at least, was well
aware that such an experiment would be followed by immediate bloodshed. But
even Hurry was awed by the stern composure of the chief, and he, too, knew that
such a man was not to be outraged with impunity; he, therefore, turned to vent
his rage on Deerslayer, where he foresaw no consequences so terrible. What
might have been the result of this second demonstration, if completed, is
unknown, since it was never made.
“Hurry,” said a gentle,
soothing voice at his elbow, “it’s wicked to be so angry, and God will not
overlook it. The Iroquois treated you well, and they didn’t take your scalp,
though you and father wanted to take theirs.”
The influence of
mildness on passion is well known. Hetty, too, had earned a sort of
consideration, that had never before been enjoyed by her, through the
self-devotion and decision of her recent conduct. Perhaps her established
mental imbecility, by removing all distrust of a wish to control, aided her
influence. Let the cause be as questionable as it might, the effect was
sufficiently certain. Instead of throttling his old fellow-traveller, Hurry
turned to the girl, and poured out a portion of his discontent, if none of his
anger, in her attentive ears.
“’Tis too bad, Hetty!”
he exclaimed; “as bad as a county gaol, or a lack of beaver, to get a creatur’
into your very trap, and then to see it get off. As much as six first quality
skins, in valie, has paddled off on them clumsy logs, when twenty strokes of a
well-turned paddle, would overtake ’em. I say in valie, for as to the boy in
the way of natur’, he is only a boy, and is worth neither more nor less than
one. Deerslayer, you’ve been ontrue to your fri’nds in letting such a chance
slip through my fingers as well as your own.”
The answer was given
quietly, but with a voice as steady as a fearless nature, and the consciousness
of rectitude, could make it. “I should have been ontrue to the right, had I done
otherwise,” returned the Deerslayer, steadily; “and neither you, nor any other
man has authority to demand that much of me. The lad came on a lawful business,
and the meanest red-skin that roams the woods, would be ashamed of not
respecting his ar’n’d. But he’s now far beyond your reach, Master March, and
there’s little use in talking, like a couple of women, of what can no longer be
helped.”
So saying, Deerslayer
turned away, like one resolved to waste no more words on the subject, while
Hutter pulled Harry by the sleeve, and led him into the ark. There they sat
long in private conference. In the mean time, the Indian and his friend had
their secret consultation; for, though it wanted some three or four hours to
the rising of the star, the former could not abstain from canvassing his
scheme, and from opening his heart to the other. Judith, too, yielded to her
softer feelings, and listened to the whole of Hetty’s artless narrative of what
occurred after she had landed. The woods had few terrors for either of these
girls, educated as they had been, and accustomed as they were to look out daily
at their rich expanse, or to wander beneath their dark shades; but the elder
sister felt that she would have hesitated about thus venturing alone into an
Iroquois camp. Concerning Hist, Hetty was not very communicative. She spoke of
her kindness, and gentleness, and of the meeting in the forest; but the secret
of Chingachgook was guarded with a shrewdness and fidelity, that many a
sharper-witted girl might have failed to display.
At length the several
conferences were broken up by the reappearance of Hutter on the platform. Here
he assembled the whole party, and communicated as much of his intentions as he
deemed expedient. Of the arrangement made by Deerslayer, to abandon the castle
during the night, and to take refuge in the ark, he entirely approved. It
struck him as it had the others, as the only effectual means of escaping
destruction. Now that the savages had turned their attention to the
construction of rafts, no doubt could exist of their at least making an attempt
to carry the building, and the message of the bloody sticks sufficiently showed
their confidence in their own success. In short the old man viewed the night as
critical, and he called on all to get ready as soon as possible, in order to
abandon the dwelling, temporarily at least, if not for ever.
These communications
made, every thing proceeded promptly and with intelligence: the castle was
secured in the manner already described, the canoes were withdrawn from the
dock and fastened to the ark by the side of the other; the few necessaries that
had been left in the house, were transferred to the cabin, the fire was
extinguished, and all embarked.
The vicinity of the
hills, with their drapery of pines, had the effect to render nights that were
obscure, darker than common on the lake. As usual, however, a belt of
comparative light was stretched through the centre of the sheet, while it was
within the shadows of the mountains, that the gloom rested most heavily on the
water. The island, or castle, stood in this belt of comparative light, but
still the night was so dark, as to cover the departure of the ark. At the
distance of an observer on the shore, her movements could not be seen at all,
more particularly as a back-ground of dark hill-side filled up the perspective
of every view that was taken diagonally or directly across the water. The
prevalent wind on the lakes of that region, is west, but owing to the avenues
formed by the mountains, it is frequently impossible to tell the true direction
of the currents, as they often vary within short distances, and brief
differences of time. This is truer in light fluctuating puffs of air, than in
steady breezes; though the squalls of even the latter, are familiarly known to
be uncertain and baffling in all mountainous regions and narrow waters. On the
present occasion, Hutter himself, (as he shoved the ark from her berth, at the
side of the platform,) was at a loss to pronounce which way the wind blew. In
common, this difficulty was solved by the clouds, which, floating high above
the hill tops, as a matter of course obeyed the currents; but now the whole
vault of heaven seemed a mass of gloomy wall. Not an opening of any sort was
visible, and Chingachgook was already trembling lest the non-appearance of the
star might prevent his betrothed from being punctual to her appointment. Under
these circumstances, Hutter hoisted his sail, seemingly with the sole intention
of getting away from the castle, as it might be dangerous to remain much longer
in its vicinity. The air soon filled the cloth, and when the scow was got under
command, and the sail was properly trimmed, it was found that the direction was
southerly, inclining towards the eastern shore. No better course offering for
the purposes of the party, the singular craft was suffered to skim the surface
of the water in this direction for more than an hour, when a change in the
currents of the air drove them over towards the camp.
Deerslayer watched all
the movements of Hutter and Harry, with jealous attention. At first he did not
know whether to ascribe the course they held to accident, or to design; but he
now began to suspect the latter. Familiar as Hutter was with the lake, it was
easy to deceive one who had little practice on the water; and let his
intentions be what they might, it was evident, ere two hours had elapsed, that
the ark had got over sufficient space to be within a hundred rods of the shore,
directly abreast of the known position of the camp. For a considerable time
previously to reaching this point, Hurry, who had some knowledge of the
Algonquin language, had been in close conference with the Indian, and the
result was now announced by the latter to Deerslayer, who had been a cold, not
to say distrusted, looker-on of all that passed.
“My old father, and my
young brother, the Big Pine,”-- for so the Delaware had named March,--“want to
see Huron scalps at their belts,” said Chingachgook to his friend. “There is
room for some on the girdle of the Serpent, and his people will look for them
when he goes back to his village. Their eyes must not be left long in a fog,
but they must see what they look for. I know that my brother has a white hand;
he will not strike even the dead. He will wait for us; when we come back, he
will not hide his face from shame for his friend. The great Serpent of the
Mohicans, must be worthy to go on the war-path with Hawkeye.”
“Ay, ay, Sarpent, I see
how it is; that name’s to stick, and in time, I shall get to be known by it
instead of Deerslayer; well, if such honours will come, the humblest of us all
must be willing to abide by ’em. As for your looking for scalps, it belongs to
your gifts, and I see no harm in it. Be marciful, Sarpent, howsever; be
marciful, I beseech of you. It surely can do no harm to a red-skin’s honour to
show a little marcy. As for the old man, the father of two young women, who
might ripen better feelin’s in his heart, and Harry March, here, who, pine as
he is, might better bear the fruit of a more christianized tree, as for them
two, I leave ’em in the hands of the white man’s God. Wasn’t it for the bloody
sticks, no man should go ag’in the Mingos this night, seein’ that it would
dishonour our faith and characters; but them that crave blood, can’t complain
if blood is shed at their call. Still, Sarpent, you can be marciful. Don’t
begin your career with the wails of women, and the cries of children. Bear
yourself so that Hist will smile, and not weep, when she meets you. Go, then;
and the Manitou presarve you!”
“My brother will stay
here with the scow. Wah! will soon be standing on the shore waiting, and
Chingachgook must hasten.”
The Indian then joined
his two co-adventurers, and first lowering the sail, they all three entered a
canoe, and left the side of the ark. Neither Hutter nor March spoke to
Deerslayer concerning their object, or the probable length of their absence.
All this had been confided to the Indian, who had acquitted himself of the
trust with characteristic brevity. As soon as the canoe was out of sight, and
that occurred ere the paddles had given a dozen strokes, Deerslayer made the
best dispositions he could to keep the ark as nearly stationary as possible;
and then he sat down in the end of the scow, to chew the cud of his own bitter
reflections. It was not long, however, before he was joined by Judith, who
sought every occasion to be near him, managing her attack on his affections
with the address that was suggested by native coquetry, aided by no little
practice, but which received much of its most dangerous power, from the touch
of feeling that threw around her manner, voice, accents, thoughts and acts, the
indescribable witchery of natural tenderness. Leaving the young hunter exposed
to these dangerous assailants, it has become our more immediate business to
follow the party in the canoe, to the shore.
The controlling
influence that led Hutter and Hurry to repeat their experiment against the
camp, was precisely that which had induced the first attempt, a little
heightened, perhaps, by the desire of revenge. But neither of these two rude
beings, so ruthless in all things that touched the rights and interests of the
red man, though possessing veins of human feeling on other matters, was much
actuated by any other desire than a heartless longing for profit. Hurry had
felt angered at his sufferings, when first liberated, it is true, but that
emotion had soon disappeared in the habitual love of gold, which he sought with
the reckless avidity of a needy spendthrift, rather than with the ceaseless longings
of a miser. In short, the motive that urged them both so soon to go against the
Hurons, was an habitual contempt of their enemy, acting on the unceasing
cupidity of prodigality. The additional chances of success, however, had their
place in the formation of the second enterprise. It was known that a large
portion of the warriors--perhaps all--were encamped for the night, abreast of
the castle, and it was hoped that the scalps of helpless victims would be the
consequence. To confess the truth, Hutter in particular-- he who had just left
two daughters behind him--expected to find few besides women and children in
the camp. This fact had been but slightly alluded to in his communications with
Hurry, and with Chingachgook it had been kept entirely out of view. If the
Indian thought of it all, it was known only to himself.
Hutter steered the
canoe; Hurry had manfully taken his post in the bows, and Chingachgook stood in
the centre. We say stood, for all three were so skilled in the management of
that species of frail bark, as to be able to keep erect positions, in the midst
of the darkness. The approach to the shore was made with great caution, and the
landing was effected in safety. The three now prepared their arms, and began
their tiger-like approach upon the camp. The Indian was on the lead, his two
companions treading in his footsteps, with a stealthy cautiousness of manner,
that rendered their progress almost literally noiseless. Occasionally a dried
twig snapped under the heavy weight of the gigantic Hurry, or the blundering
clumsiness of the old man; but, had the Indian walked on air, his step could
not have seemed lighter. The great object was first to discover the position of
the fire, which was known to be the centre of the whole position. At length the
keen eye of Chingachgook caught a glimpse of this important guide. It was
glimmering at a distance among the trunks of trees. There was no blaze, but
merely a single smouldering brand, as suited the hour; the savages usually
retiring and rising with the revolutions of the sun.
As soon as a view was
obtained of this beacon, the progress of the adventurers became swifter and
more certain. In a few minutes they got to the edge of the circle of little
huts. Here they stopped to survey their ground, and to concert their movements.
The darkness was so deep, as to render it difficult to distinguish any thing
but the glowing brand, the trunks of the nearest trees, and the endless canopy
of leaves that veiled the clouded heaven. It was ascertained, however, that a
hut was quite near, and Chingachgook attempted to reconnoitre its interior. The
manner in which the Indian approached the place that was supposed to contain
enemies, resembled the wily advances of the cat on the bird. As he drew near,
he stooped to his hands and knees, for the entrance was so low as to require
this attitude, even as a convenience. Before trusting his head inside, however,
he listened long to catch the breathing of sleepers. No sound was audible, and
this human Serpent thrust his head in at the door, or opening, as another
serpent would have peered in on the nest. Nothing rewarded the hazardous
experiment; for, after feeling cautiously with a hand, the place was found to
be empty.
The Delaware proceeded
in the same guarded manner to one or two more of the huts, finding all in the
same situation. He then returned to his companions, and informed them that the
Hurons had deserted their camp. A little further inquiry corroborated this
fact, and it only remained to return to the canoe. The different manner in
which the adventurers bore the disappointment, is worthy of a passing remark.
The chief, who had landed solely with the hope of acquiring renown, stood
stationary, leaning against a tree, waiting the pleasure of his companions. He
was mortified, and a little surprised, it is true; but he bore all with
dignity, falling back for support on the sweeter expectations that still lay in
reserve for that evening. It was true, he could not now hope to meet his
mistress with the proofs of his daring and skill on his person, but he might
still hope to meet her; and the warrior, who was zealous in the search, might
always hope to be honoured. On the other hand, Hutter and Hurry, who had been
chiefly instigated by the basest of all human motives, the thirst of gain,
could scarce control their feelings. They went prowling among the huts, as if
they expected to find some forgotten child, or careless sleeper; and, again and
again, did they vent their spite on the insensible huts, several of which were
actually torn to pieces, and scattered about the place. Nay, they even
quarrelled with each other, and fierce reproaches passed between them. It is
possible some serious consequences might have occurred, had not the Delaware
interfered to remind them of the danger of being so unguarded, and of the
necessity of returning to the ark. This checked the dispute, and in a few
minutes they were paddling sullenly back to the spot where they hoped to find
that vessel.
It has been said that
Judith took her place at the side of Deerslayer, soon after the adventurers
departed. For a short time the girl was silent, and the hunter was ignorant
which of the sisters had approached him; but he soon recognised the rich,
full-spirited voice of the elder, as her feelings escaped in words.
“This is a terrible
life for women, Deerslayer!” she exclaimed. “Would to Heaven, I could see an
end of it!”
“The life is well
enough, Judith,” was the answer, “being pretty much as it is used, or abused.
What would you wish to see in its place?”
“I should be a thousand
times happier to live nearer to civilized beings--where there are farms and
churches, and houses built as it might be by Christian hands; and where my
sleep at night would be sweet and tranquil! A dwelling near one of the forts,
would be far better than this dreary place where we live!”
“Nay, Judith, I can’t
agree too lightly in the truth of all this. If forts are good to keep off
inimies, they sometimes hold inimies of their own. I don’t think ’t would be
for your good, or the good of Hetty, to live near one; and if I must say what I
think, I’m afeard you are a little too near, as it is.” Deerslayer went on, in
his own steady, earnest manner, for the darkness concealed the tints that had
coloured the cheeks of the girl almost to the brightness of crimson, while her
own great efforts suppressed the sounds of the breathing that almost choked
her. “As for farms, they have their uses, and there’s them that like to pass
their lives on ’em; but what comfort can a man look for in a clearin’, that he
can’t find in double quantities in the forest? If air, and room, and light, are
a little craved, the wind-rows and the streams will furnish ’em, or here are
the lakes for such as have bigger longings in that way; but where are you to
find your shades, and laughing springs, and leaping brooks, and vinerable
trees, a thousand years old, in a clearin’? You don’t find them, but you find
their disabled trunks, marking the ’arth like head-stones in a grave-yard. It
seems to me that the people who live in such places, must be always thinkin’ of
their own inds, and of univarsal decay; and that, too, not of the decay that is
brought about by time and natur’, but the decay that follows waste and
violence. Then as to churches, they are good, I suppose, else wouldn’t good men
uphold ’em. But they are not altogether necessary. They call ’em the temples of
the Lord; but, Judith, the whole ’arth is a temple of the Lord to such as have
the right minds. Neither forts nor churches make people happier of themselves.
Moreover, all is contradiction in the settlements, while all is concord in the
woods. Forts and churches almost always go together, and yet they’re downright
contradictions; churches being for peace, and forts for war. No, no--give me
the strong places of the wilderness, which is the trees, and the churches, too,
which are arbours raised by the hand of natur’.”
“Woman is not made for
scenes like these, Deerslayer; scenes of which we shall have no end, as long as
this war lasts.”
“If you mean women of white
colour, I rather think you’re not far from the truth, gal; but as for the
females of the red men, such visitations are quite in character. Nothing would
make Hist, now, the bargained wife of yonder Delaware, happier than to know
that he is at this moment prowling around his nat’ral inimies, striving after a
scalp.”
“Surely, surely,
Deerslayer, she cannot be a woman, and not feel concern when she thinks the man
she loves is in danger!”
“She doesn’t think of
the danger, Judith, but of the honour; and when the heart is desperately set on
such feelin’s, why there is little room to crowd in fear. Hist is a kind,
gentle, laughing, pleasant creatur’, but she loves honour, as well as any
Delaware gal I ever know’d. She’s to meet the Sarpent an hour hence, on the p’int
where Hetty landed, and no doubt she has her anxiety about it, like any other
woman; but she’d be all the happier did she know that her lover was at this
moment way-laying a Mingo for his scalp.”
“If you really believe
this, Deerslayer, no wonder you lay so much stress on gifts. Certain am I, that
no white girl could feel any thing but misery while she believed her betrothed
in danger of his life! Nor do I suppose even you, unmoved and calm as you ever
seem to be, could be at peace, if you believed your Hist in danger.”
“That’s a different
matter--’t is altogether a different matter, Judith. Woman is too weak and
gentle to be intended to run such risks, and man must feel for her. Yes, I
rather think that’s as much red natur’, as it’s white. But I have no Hist, nor
am I like to have; for I hold it wrong to mix colours, any way except in
friendship, and sarvices.”
“In that you are and
feel as a white man should! As for Hurry Harry, I do think it would be all the
same to him, whether his wife were a squaw, or a governor’s daughter, provided
she was a little comely, and could help to keep his craving stomach full.”
“You do March
injustice, Judith; yes, you do. The poor fellow dotes on you, and when a man
has ra’ally set his heart on such a creatur’, it isn’t a Mingo, or even a
Delaware gal, that’ll be likely to unsettle his mind. You may laugh at such men
as Hurry, and I, for we’re rough, and unteached in the way of books and other
knowledge; but we’ve our good p’ints, as well as our bad ones. An honest heart
is not to be despised, gal, even though it be not varsed in all the niceties
that please a female fancy.”
“You, Deerslayer!--And
do you--can you, for an instant, suppose I place you by the side of Harry
March? No, no. I am not so far gone in dullness as that. No one --man or
woman--could think of naming your honest heart, manly nature, and simple truth,
with the boisterous selfishness, greedy avarice, and overbearing ferocity of
Henry March. The very best that can be said of him, is to be found in his name
of Hurry Skurry, which, if it means no great harm, means no great good. Even my
father, following his feelings with the other, as he is doing, at this moment,
well knows the difference between you. This I know, for he has said as much to
me, in plain language.”
Judith was a girl of
quick sensibilities, and of impetuous feelings; and, being under few of the
restraints that curtail the manifestations of maiden emotions, among those who
are educated in the habits of civilized life, she sometimes betrayed the latter
with a freedom that was so purely natural, as to place it as far above the
wiles of coquetry, as it was superior to its heartlessness. She had now even
taken one of the hard hands of the hunter, and pressed it between both her own,
with a warmth and earnestness that proved how sincere was her language. It was
perhaps fortunate that she was checked by the very excess of her feelings,
since the same power might have urged her on to avow all that her father had
said--the old man not having been satisfied with making a comparison favourable
to Deerslayer, as between the hunter and Hurry, but having actually, in his
blunt rough way, briefly advised his daughter to cast off the latter entirely,
and to think of the former as a husband. Judith would not willingly have said
this to any other man, but there was so much confidence awakened by the
guileless simplicity of Deerslayer, that one of her nature found it a constant
temptation to overstep the bounds of habit. She went no farther, however,
immediately relinquishing the hand, and falling back on a reserve that was more
suited to her sex, and, indeed, to her natural modesty.
“Thank’ee, Judith,
thank’ee, with all my heart,” returned the hunter, whose humility prevented him
from placing any flattering interpretation on either the conduct, or the
language of the girl. “Thank’ee, as much as if it was all true. Harry’s
sightly--yes, he’s as sightly as the tallest pine of these mountains, and the
Sarpent has named him accordingly; howsever, some fancy good looks, and some
fancy good conduct, only. Hurry has one advantage, and it depends on himself
whether he’ll have the t’other or-- Hark! that’s your father’s voice, gal, and
he speaks like a man who’s riled at something.”
“God save us from any
more of these horrible scenes!” exclaimed Judith, bending her face to her
knees, and endeavouring to exclude the discordant sounds, by applying her hands
to her ears. “I sometimes wish I had no father!”
This was bitterly said,
and the repinings which extorted the words, were bitterly felt. It is
impossible to say what might next have escaped her, had not a gentle, low voice
spoken at her elbow.
“Judith, I ought to
have read a chapter to father and Hurry!” said the innocent, but terrified
speaker, “and that would have kept them from going again on such an errand. Do
you call to them, Deerslayer, and tell them I want them, and that it will be
good for them both, if they’ll return, and hearken to my words.”
“Ahs! me--poor Hetty,
you little know the cravin’s for gold and revenge, if you believe they are so
easily turned aside from their longin’s! But this is an uncommon business, in
more ways than one, Judith! I hear your father and Hurry growling like bears,
and yet no noise comes from the mouth of the young chief. There’s an end of
secresy, and yet his whoop, which ought to ring in the mountains, accordin’ to
rule, in such sarcumstances, is silent!”
“Justice may have
alighted on him, and his death has saved the lives of the innocent.”
“Not it--not it--the
Sarpent is not the one to suffer, if that’s to be the law. Sartainly there has
been no onset, and ’t is most likely that the camp’s deserted, and the men are
coming back disapp’inted. That accounts for the growls of Hurry and the silence
of the Sarpent.”
Just at this instant a
fall of a paddle was heard in the canoe, for vexation had made March reckless;
and Deerslayer felt convinced that his conjecture was true. The sail being
down, the ark had not drifted far, and ere many minutes, he heard Chingachgook,
in a low quiet tone, directing Hutter how to steer in order to reach it. In
less time than it takes to tell the fact, the canoe touched the scow, and the
adventurers entered the latter. Neither Hutter nor Hurry spoke of what had
occurred. But the Delaware, in passing his friend, merely uttered the words, “fire’s
out;” which, if not literally true, sufficiently explained the truth to his
listener.
It was now a question
as to the course to be steered. A short surly conference was held, when Hutter
decided that the wisest way would be to keep in motion, as the means most
likely to defeat any attempt at a surprise--announcing his own and March’s
intention to requite themselves for the loss of sleep, during their captivity,
by lying down. As the air still baffled and continued light, it was finally
determined to sail before it, let it come in what direction it might, so long
as it did not blow the ark upon the strand. This point settled, the released
prisoners helped to hoist the sail, and then they threw themselves on two of
the pallets, leaving Deerslayer and his friend to look after the movements of
the craft. As neither of the latter was disposed to sleep, on account of the
appointment with Hist, this arrangement was acceptable to all parties. That
Judith and Hetty remained up also, in no manner impaired the agreeable features
of this change.
For some time the scow
rather drifted than sailed along the western shore, following a light southerly
current of the air. The progress was slow--not exceeding a couple of miles in
the hour--but the two men perceived that it was not only carrying them towards
the point they desired to reach, but at a rate that was quite as fast as the
hour yet rendered necessary. But little was said the while, even by the girls;
and that little had more reference to the rescue of Hist, than to any other
subject. The Indian was calm, to the eye; but as minute after minute passed,
his feelings became more and more excited, until they reached a state that
might have satisfied the demands of even the most exacting mistress. Deerslayer
kept the craft as much in the bays as was prudent, for the double purpose of
sailing within the shadows of the woods, and of detecting any signs of an
encampment they might pass on the shore. In this manner they had doubled one
low point, and were already in the bay that was terminated north by the goal at
which they aimed. The latter was still a quarter of a mile distant, when
Chingachgook came silently to the side of his friend, and pointed to a place
directly ahead. A small fire was glimmering just within the verge of the bushes
that lined the shore, on the southern side of the point--leaving no doubt that
the Indians had suddenly removed their camp to the very place, or at least to
the very projection of land, where Hist had given them the rendezvous!
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.