 | CHAPTER X. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path |  |
10. CHAPTER X.
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
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
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
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,
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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.
| CHAPTER X. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path | |