 | CHAPTER XI. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path |  |
11. CHAPTER XI.
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
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
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
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
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;
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
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
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 self-devotion,
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
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
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,
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
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
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
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;
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
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
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
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.
| CHAPTER XI. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path | |