 | CHAPTER VIII. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path |  |
8. CHAPTER VIII.
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
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
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
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
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
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,
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
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
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
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,
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
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
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
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
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
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,
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.
| CHAPTER VIII. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path | |