University of Virginia Library

15. CHAPTER XV.

The calm of evening was again in singular contrast,
while its gathering gloom was in as singular unison, with
the passions of men. The sun was set, and the rays of the
retiring luminary had ceased to gild the edges of the few
clouds that had sufficient openings to admit the passage of
its fading light. The canopy overhead was heavy and
dense, promising another night of darkness, but the surface
of the lake was scarcely disturbed by a ripple. There
was a little air, though it scarce deserved to be termed wind.
Still, being damp and heavy, it had a certain force. The
party in the castle were as gloomy and silent as the scene.
The two ransomed prisoners felt humbled and dishonoured,
but their humility partook of the rancour of revenge. They
were far more disposed to remember the indignity with
which they had been treated during the last few hours of
their captivity, than to feel grateful for the previous indulgence.
Then that keen-sighted monitor conscience, by reminding
them of the retributive justice of all they had endured,
goaded them, rather to turn the tables on their
enemies, than to accuse themselves. As for the others,
they were thoughtful equally from regret and joy. Deerslayer
and Judith felt most of the former sensation, though
from very different causes, while Hetty for the moment was
perfectly happy. The Delaware had also lively pictures of
felicity in the prospect of so soon regaining his betrothed.
Under such circumstances, and in this mood, all were taking
the evening meal.

“Old Tom!” cried Hurry, bursting into a fit of boisterous
laughter, “you look'd amazin'ly like a tethered bear, as
you was stretched on them hemlock boughs, and I only
wonder you didn't growl more. Well, it's over, and syth's
and lamentations won't mend the matter! There's the
blackguard Rivenoak, he that brought us off, has an oncommon
scalp, and I'd give as much for it myself as the
Colony. Yes, I feel as rich as the governor, in these matters
now, and will lay down with them doubloon for doubloon.
Judith, darling, did you mourn for me much, when
I was in the hands of the Philipsteins.”

The last were a family of German descent on the Mohawk,
to whom Hurry had a great antipathy, and whom he
had confounded with the enemies of Judea.

“Our tears have raised the lake, Harry March, as you
might have seen by the shore!” returned Judith, with a
feigned levity that she was far from feeling. “That Hetty
and I should have grieved for father, was to be expected; but
we fairly rained tears for you.”

“We were sorry for poor Hurry, as well as for father,
Judith!” put in her innocent and unconscious sister.

“True, girl, true; but we feel sorrow for everybody
that's in trouble, you know,” returned the other in a quick,
admonitory manner, and a low tone. “Nevertheless, we are
glad to see you, Master March, and out of the hands of the
Philipsteins, too.”

“Yes, they're a bad set, and so is the other brood of
'em, down on the river. It's a wonderment to me, how
you got us off, Deerslayer; and I forgive you the interference
that prevented my doin' justice on that vagabond, for
this small service. Let us into the secret, that we may do
you the same good turn, at need. Was it by lying, or by
coaxing?”

“By neither, Hurry, but by buying. We paid a ransom
for you both, and that, too, at a price so high, you had well
be on your guard ag'in another captyvement, lest our stock
of goods shouldn't hold out.”

“A ransom! — Old Tom has paid the fiddler, then, for
nothing of mine would have bought off the hair, much less
the skin. I didn't think men as keen set as them vagabonds,
would let a fellow up so easy, when they had him

fairly at a close hug, and floored. But money is money,
and somehow it's unnat'ral hard to withstand. Indian, or
white man, 'tis pretty much the same. It must be owned
Judith, there's a considerable of human natur' in mankind
ginirally, after all!”

Hutter now rose, and signing to Deerslayer, he led him
to an inner room, where, in answer to his questions, he first
learned the price that had been paid for his release. The
old man expressed neither resentment nor surprise at the
inroad that had been made on his chest, though he did manifest
some curiosity to know how far the investigation of its
contents had been carried. He also inquired where the key
had been found. The habitual frankness of Deerslayer
prevented any prevarication, and the conference soon terminated
by the return of the two to the outer room, or that
which served for the double purpose of parlour and kitchen.

“I wonder if it 's peace or war, between us and the savages!”
exclaimed Hurry, just as Deerslayer, who had
paused for a single instant, listened attentively, and was
passing through the outer door without stopping. “This
givin' up captives has a friendly look, and when men have
traded together, on a fair and honourable footing, they ought
to part fri'nds, for that occasion, at least. Come back,
Deerslayer, and let us have your judgment, for I 'm beginnin'
to think more of you, since your late behaviour, than I
used to do.”

“There's an answer to your question, Hurry, since
you 're in such haste to come ag'in to blows.”

As Deerslayer spoke, he threw on the table, on which the
other was reclining with one elbow, a sort of miniature fagot,
composed of a dozen sticks bound tightly together with a
deer-skin thong. March seized it eagerly, and holding it
close to a blazing knot of pine that lay on the hearth, and
which gave out all the light there was in the room, ascertained
that the ends of the several sticks had been dipped in
blood.

“If this isn't plain English,” said the reckless frontier
man, “it 's plain Indian! Here's what they call a dicliration
of war, down at York, Judith. How did you come by
this defiance, Deerslayer?”

“Fairly enough. It lay, not a minut' since, in what you
call Floatin' Tom's door yard.”

“How came it there? It never fell from the clouds, Judith,
as little toads sometimes do, and then it don't rain.
You must prove where it come from, Deerslayer, or we shall
suspect some design to skear them that would have lost their
wits long ago, if fear could drive 'em away.”

Deerslayer had approached a window, and cast a glance
out of it, on the dark aspect of the lake. As if satisfied with
what he beheld, he drew near Hurry, and took the bundle
of sticks into his own hand, examining it attentively.

“Yes, this is an Indian dicliration of war, sure enough,”
he said, “and it 's a proof how little you 're suited to be on
the path it has travelled, Harry March, that it has got here,
and you never the wiser, as to the means. The savages
may have left the scalp on your head, but they must have
taken off the ears; else you 'd have heard the stirring of the
water made by the lad as he come off ag'in, on his two logs.
His ar'n'd was to throw these sticks at our door, as much
as to say, we 've struck the war-pool since the trade, and
the next thing will be to strike you.”

“The prowling wolves! But hand me that rifle, Judith,
and I 'll send an answer back to the vagabonds through
their messenger.”

“Not while I stand by, Master March,” coolly put in
Deerslayer, motioning for the other to forbear. “Faith is
faith, whether given to a red-skin, or to a Christian. The
lad lighted a knot, and came off fairly, under its blaze, to
give us this warning; and no man here should harm him,
while empl'yed on such an ar'n'd. There 's no use in
words, for the boy is too cunning to leave the knot burning,
now his business is done, and the night is already too dark
for a rifle to have any sartainty.”

“That may be true enough, as to a gun, but there's virtue
still in a canoe,” answered Hurry, passing towards the
door with enormous strides, carrying a rifle in his hands.
“The being doesn't live that shall stop me from following,
and bringing back that riptyle's scalp. The more on 'em
that you crush in the egg, the fewer there 'll be to dart at
you in the woods!”

Judith trembled like the aspen, she scarce knew why herself,

though there was the prospect of a scene of violence;
for, if Hurry was fierce, and overbearing in the consciousness
of his vast strength, Deerslayer had about him the
calm determination that promises greater perseverance, and
a resolution more likely to effect its object. It was the
stern, resolute eye of the latter, rather than the noisy vehemence
of the first, that excited her apprehensions. Hurry
soon reached the spot where the canoe was fastened, but not
before Deerslayer had spoke in a quick, earnest voice to the
Serpent, in Delaware. The latter had been the first, in
truth, to hear the sounds of the oars, and he had gone upon
the platform, in jealous watchfulness. The light satisfied
him that a message was coming, and when the boy cast his
bundle of sticks at his feet, it neither moved his anger, nor
induced surprise. He merely stood at watch, rifle in hand,
to make certain that no treachery lay behind the defiance.
As Deerslayer now called to him, he stepped into the canoe,
and quick as thought removed the paddles. Hurry was furious
when he found that he was deprived of the means of
proceeding. He first approached the Indian with loud menaces,
and even Deerslayer stood aghast at the probable
consequences. March shook his sledge-hammer fists, and
flourished his arms, as he drew near the Indian, and all expected
he would attempt to fell the Delaware to the earth; one
of them, at least, was well aware that such an experiment
would be followed by immediate bloodshed. But even Hurry
was awed by the stern composure of the chief, and he, too,
knew that such a man was not to be outraged with impunity;
he, therefore, turned to vent his rage on Deerslayer,
where he foresaw no consequences so terrible. What might
have been the result of this second demonstration, if completed,
is unknown, since it was never made.

“Hurry,” said a gentle, soothing voice at his elbow, “it's
wicked to be so angry, and God will not overlook it. The
Iroquois treated you well, and they didn't take your scalp,
though you and father wanted to take theirs.”

The influence of mildness on passion is well known.
Hetty, too, had earned a sort of consideration, that had
never before been enjoyed by her, through the self-devotion
and decision of her recent conduct. Perhaps her established
mental imbecility, by removing all distrust of a wish to control,

aided her influence. Let the cause be as questionable
as it might, the effect was sufficiently certain. Instead of
throttling his old fellow-traveller, Hurry turned to the girl,
and poured out a portion of his discontent, if none of his
anger, in her attentive ears.

“'Tis too bad, Hetty!” he exclaimed; “as bad as a
county gaol, or a lack of beaver, to get a creatur' into your
very trap, and then to see it get off. As much as six first
quality skins, in valie, has paddled off on them clumsy
logs, when twenty strokes of a well-turned paddle, would
overtake 'em. I say in valie, for as to the boy in the way
of natur', he is only a boy, and is worth neither more nor
less than one. Deerslayer, you've been ontrue to your
fri'nds in letting such a chance slip through my fingers as
well as your own.”

The answer was given quietly, but with a voice as steady
as a fearless nature, and the consciousness of rectitude,
could make it. “I should have been ontrue to the right,
had I done otherwise,” returned the Deerslayer, steadily;
“and neither you, nor any other man has authority to demand
that much of me. The lad came on a lawful business,
and the meanest red-skin that roams the woods, would
be ashamed of not respecting his ar'n'd. But he's now far
beyond your reach, Master March, and there's little use in
talking, like a couple of women, of what can no longer be
helped.”

So saying, Deerslayer turned away, like one resolved
to waste no more words on the subject, while Hutter pulled
Harry by the sleeve, and led him into the ark. There they
sat long in private conference. In the mean time, the Indian
and his friend had their secret consultation; for,
though it wanted some three or four hours to the rising of
the star, the former could not abstain from canvassing his
scheme, and from opening his heart to the other. Judith,
too, yielded to her softer feelings, and listened to the whole
of Hetty's artless narrative of what occurred after she had
landed. The woods had few terrors for either of these
girls, educated as they had been, and accustomed as they
were to look out daily at their rich expanse, or to wander
beneath their dark shades; but the elder sister felt that she
would have hesitated about thus venturing alone into an

Iroquois camp. Concerning Hist, Hetty was not very communicative.
She spoke of her kindness, and gentleness,
and of the meeting in the forest; but the secret of Chingachgook
was guarded with a shrewdness and fidelity, that many
a sharper-witted girl might have failed to display.

At length the several conferences were broken up by the
reappearance of Hutter on the platform. Here he assembled
the whole party, and communicated as much of his
intentions as he deemed expedient. Of the arrangement
made by Deerslayer, to abandon the castle during the night,
and to take refuge in the ark, he entirely approved. It
struck him as it had the others, as the only effectual means
of escaping destruction. Now that the savages had turned
their attention to the construction of rafts, no doubt could
exist of their at least making an attempt to carry the building,
and the message of the bloody sticks sufficiently showed
their confidence in their own success. In short the old man
viewed the night as critical, and he called on all to get ready
as soon as possible, in order to abandon the dwelling, temporarily
at least, if not for ever.

These communications made, every thing proceeded
promptly and with intelligence: the castle was secured in
the manner already described, the canoes were withdrawn
from the dock and fastened to the ark by the side of the
other; the few necessaries that had been left in the house,
were transferred to the cabin, the fire was extinguished, and
all embarked.

The vicinity of the hills, with their drapery of pines, had
the effect to render nights that were obscure, darker than
common on the lake. As usual, however, a belt of comparative
light was stretched through the centre of the sheet,
while it was within the shadows of the mountains, that the
gloom rested most heavily on the water. The island, or
castle, stood in this belt of comparative light, but still the
night was so dark, as to cover the departure of the ark.
At the distance of an observer on the shore, her movements
could not be seen at all, more particularly as a back-ground
of dark hill-side filled up the perspective of every view that
was taken diagonally or directly across the water. The
prevalent wind on the lakes of that region, is west, but
owing to the avenues formed by the mountains, it is frequently

impossible to tell the true direction of the currents,
as they often vary within short distances, and brief differences
of time. This is truer in light fluctuating puffs of air,
than in steady breezes; though the squalls of even the latter,
are familiarly known to be uncertain and baffling in all
mountainous regions and narrow waters. On the present
occasion, Hutter himself, (as he shoved the ark from her
berth, at the side of the platform,) was at a loss to pronounce
which way the wind blew. In common, this difficulty was
solved by the clouds, which, floating high above the hill
tops, as a matter of course obeyed the currents; but now
the whole vault of heaven seemed a mass of gloomy wall.
Not an opening of any sort was visible, and Chingachgook
was already trembling lest the non-appearance of the star
might prevent his betrothed from being punctual to her appointment.
Under these circumstances, Hutter hoisted his
sail, seemingly with the sole intention of getting away from
the castle, as it might be dangerous to remain much longer
in its vicinity. The air soon filled the cloth, and when the
scow was got under command, and the sail was properly
trimmed, it was found that the direction was southerly, inclining
towards the eastern shore. No better course offering
for the purposes of the party, the singular craft was
suffered to skim the surface of the water in this direction
for more than an hour, when a change in the currents of
the air drove them over towards the camp.

Deerslayer watched all the movements of Hutter and
Harry, with jealous attention. At first he did not know
whether to ascribe the course they held to accident, or to
design; but he now began to suspect the latter. Familiar
as Hutter was with the lake, it was easy to deceive one who
had little practice on the water; and let his intentions be
what they might, it was evident, ere two hours had elapsed,
that the ark had got over sufficient space to be within a
hundred rods of the shore, directly abreast of the known
position of the camp. For a considerable time previously
to reaching this point, Hurry, who had some knowledge of
the Algonquin language, had been in close conference with
the Indian, and the result was now announced by the latter
to Deerslayer, who had been a cold, not to say distrusted,
looker-on of all that passed.

“My old father, and my young brother, the Big Pine,”—
for so the Delaware had named March,—“want to see
Huron scalps at their belts,” said Chingachgook to his
friend. “There is room for some on the girdle of the Serpent,
and his people will look for them when he goes back
to his village. Their eyes must not be left long in a fog,
but they must see what they look for. I know that my
brother has a white hand; he will not strike even the dead.
He will wait for us; when we come back, he will not hide
his face from shame for his friend. The great Serpent of
the Mohicans, must be worthy to go on the war-path with
Hawkeye.”

“Ay, ay, Sarpent, I see how it is; that name's to stick, and
in time, I shall get to be known by it instead of Deerslayer;
well, if such honours will come, the humblest of us all must
be willing to abide by 'em. As for your looking for scalps,
it belongs to your gifts, and I see no harm in it. Be marciful,
Sarpent, howsever; be marciful, I beseech of you. It
surely can do no harm to a red-skin's honour to show a little
marcy. As for the old man, the father of two young women,
who might ripen better feelin's in his heart, and Harry
March, here, who, pine as he is, might better bear the fruit
of a more christianized tree, as for them two, I leave 'em in
the hands of the white man's God. Wasn't it for the bloody
sticks, no man should go ag'in the Mingos this night, seein'
that it would dishonour our faith and characters; but them
that crave blood, can't complain if blood is shed at their
call. Still, Sarpent, you can be marciful. Don't begin your
career with the wails of women, and the cries of children.
Bear yourself so that Hist will smile, and not weep, when
she meets you. Go, then; and the Manitou presarve you!”

“My brother will stay here with the scow. Wah! will
soon be standing on the shore waiting, and Chingachgook
must hasten.”

The Indian then joined his two co-adventurers, and first
lowering the sail, they all three entered a canoe, and left the
side of the ark. Neither Hutter nor March spoke to Deerslayer
concerning their object, or the probable length of
their absence. All this had been confided to the Indian,
who had acquitted himself of the trust with characteristic
brevity. As soon as the canoe was out of sight, and that

occurred ere the paddles had given a dozen strokes, Deerslayer
made the best dispositions he could to keep the ark
as nearly stationary as possible; and then he sat down in
the end of the scow, to chew the cud of his own bitter reflections.
It was not long, however, before he was joined
by Judith, who sought every occasion to be near him,
managing her attack on his affections with the address that
was suggested by native coquetry, aided by no little practice,
but which received much of its most dangerous power,
from the touch of feeling that threw around her manner,
voice, accents, thoughts and acts, the indescribable witchery
of natural tenderness. Leaving the young hunter exposed
to these dangerous assailants, it has become our more immediate
business to follow the party in the canoe, to the shore.

The controlling influence that led Hutter and Hurry to
repeat their experiment against the camp, was precisely that
which had induced the first attempt, a little heightened, perhaps,
by the desire of revenge. But neither of these two
rude beings, so ruthless in all things that touched the rights
and interests of the red man, though possessing veins of
human feeling on other matters, was much actuated by any
other desire than a heartless longing for profit. Hurry
had felt angered at his sufferings, when first liberated, it is
true, but that emotion had soon disappeared in the habitual
love of gold, which he sought with the reckless avidity of a
needy spendthrift, rather than with the ceaseless longings
of a miser. In short, the motive that urged them both so
soon to go against the Hurons, was an habitual contempt
of their enemy, acting on the unceasing cupidity of prodigality.
The additional chances of success, however, had
their place in the formation of the second enterprise. It
was known that a large portion of the warriors—perhaps
all—were encamped for the night, abreast of the castle, and
it was hoped that the scalps of helpless victims would be the
consequence. To confess the truth, Hutter in particular—
he who had just left two daughters behind him—expected to
find few besides women and children in the camp. This
fact had been but slightly alluded to in his communications
with Hurry, and with Chingachgook it had been kept entirely
out of view. If the Indian thought of it all, it was
known only to himself.

Hutter steered the canoe; Hurry had manfully taken his
post in the bows, and Chingachgook stood in the centre.
We say stood, for all three were so skilled in the management
of that species of frail bark, as to be able to keep
erect positions, in the midst of the darkness. The approach
to the shore was made with great caution, and the landing
was effected in safety. The three now prepared their arms,
and began their tiger-like approach upon the camp. The
Indian was on the lead, his two companions treading in his
footsteps, with a stealthy cautiousness of manner, that rendered
their progress almost literally noiseless. Occasionally
a dried twig snapped under the heavy weight of the
gigantic Hurry, or the blundering clumsiness of the old man;
but, had the Indian walked on air, his step could not have
seemed lighter. The great object was first to discover the
position of the fire, which was known to be the centre of the
whole position. At length the keen eye of Chingachgook
caught a glimpse of this important guide. It was glimmering
at a distance among the trunks of trees. There was no
blaze, but merely a single smouldering brand, as suited the
hour; the savages usually retiring and rising with the revolutions
of the sun.

As soon as a view was obtained of this beacon, the progress
of the adventurers became swifter and more certain.
In a few minutes they got to the edge of the circle of little
huts. Here they stopped to survey their ground, and to
concert their movements. The darkness was so deep, as
to render it difficult to distinguish any thing but the glowing
brand, the trunks of the nearest trees, and the endless
canopy of leaves that veiled the clouded heaven. It was
ascertained, however, that a hut was quite near, and Chingachgook
attempted to reconnoitre its interior. The manner
in which the Indian approached the place that was supposed
to contain enemies, resembled the wily advances of
the cat on the bird. As he drew near, he stooped to his
hands and knees, for the entrance was so low as to require
this attitude, even as a convenience. Before trusting his
head inside, however, he listened long to catch the breathing
of sleepers. No sound was audible, and this human
Serpent thrust his head in at the door, or opening, as another
serpent would have peered in on the nest. Nothing

rewarded the hazardous experiment; for, after feeling cautiously
with a hand, the place was found to be empty.

The Delaware proceeded in the same guarded manner
to one or two more of the huts, finding all in the same
situation. He then returned to his companions, and informed
them that the Hurons had deserted their camp. A
little further inquiry corroborated this fact, and it only remained
to return to the canoe. The different manner in
which the adventurers bore the disappointment, is worthy
of a passing remark. The chief, who had landed solely
with the hope of acquiring renown, stood stationary, leaning
against a tree, waiting the pleasure of his companions. He
was mortified, and a little surprised, it is true; but he bore
all with dignity, falling back for support on the sweeter
expectations that still lay in reserve for that evening. It
was true, he could not now hope to meet his mistress with
the proofs of his daring and skill on his person, but he might
still hope to meet her; and the warrior, who was zealous
in the search, might always hope to be honoured. On
the other hand, Hutter and Hurry, who had been chiefly
instigated by the basest of all human motives, the thirst of
gain, could scarce control their feelings. They went prowling
among the huts, as if they expected to find some forgotten
child, or careless sleeper; and, again and again, did
they vent their spite on the insensible huts, several of which
were actually torn to pieces, and scattered about the place.
Nay, they even quarrelled with each other, and fierce reproaches
passed between them. It is possible some serious
consequences might have occurred, had not the Delaware
interfered to remind them of the danger of being so unguarded,
and of the necessity of returning to the ark. This
checked the dispute, and in a few minutes they were paddling
sullenly back to the spot where they hoped to find
that vessel.

It has been said that Judith took her place at the side of
Deerslayer, soon after the adventurers departed. For a
short time the girl was silent, and the hunter was ignorant
which of the sisters had approached him; but he soon recognised
the rich, full-spirited voice of the elder, as her feelings
escaped in words.

“This is a terrible life for women, Deerslayer!” she exclaimed.
“Would to Heaven, I could see an end of it!”

“The life is well enough, Judith,” was the answer,
“being pretty much as it is used, or abused. What would
you wish to see in its place?”

“I should be a thousand times happier to live nearer to
civilized beings—where there are farms and churches, and
houses built as it might be by Christian hands; and where
my sleep at night would be sweet and tranquil! A dwelling
near one of the forts, would be far better than this dreary
place where we live!”

“Nay, Judith, I can't agree too lightly in the truth of all
this. If forts are good to keep off inimies, they sometimes
hold inimies of their own. I don't think 't would be for
your good, or the good of Hetty, to live near one; and if I
must say what I think, I'm afeard you are a little too near,
as it is.” Deerslayer went on, in his own steady, earnest
manner, for the darkness concealed the tints that had coloured
the cheeks of the girl almost to the brightness of
crimson, while her own great efforts suppressed the sounds
of the breathing that almost choked her. “As for farms,
they have their uses, and there's them that like to pass their
lives on 'em; but what comfort can a man look for in a
clearin', that he can't find in double quantities in the forest?
If air, and room, and light, are a little craved, the wind-rows
and the streams will furnish 'em, or here are the lakes for
such as have bigger longings in that way; but where are
you to find your shades, and laughing springs, and leaping
brooks, and vinerable trees, a thousand years old, in a
clearin'? You don't find them, but you find their disabled
trunks, marking the 'arth like head-stones in a grave-yard.
It seems to me that the people who live in such places, must
be always thinkin' of their own inds, and of univarsal decay;
and that, too, not of the decay that is brought about by time
and natur', but the decay that follows waste and violence.
Then as to churches, they are good, I suppose, else wouldn't
good men uphold 'em. But they are not altogether necessary.
They call 'em the temples of the Lord; but, Judith,
the whole 'arth is a temple of the Lord to such as have
the right minds. Neither forts nor churches make people
happier of themselves. Moreover, all is contradiction in

the settlements, while all is concord in the woods. Forts
and churches almost always go together, and yet they're
downright contradictions; churches being for peace, and
forts for war. No, no—give me the strong places of the
wilderness, which is the trees, and the churches, too, which
are arbours raised by the hand of natur'.”

“Woman is not made for scenes like these, Deerslayer;
scenes of which we shall have no end, as long as this war
lasts.”

“If you mean women of white colour, I rather think
you're not far from the truth, gal; but as for the females
of the red men, such visitations are quite in character.
Nothing would make Hist, now, the bargained wife of yonder
Delaware, happier than to know that he is at this moment
prowling around his nat'ral inimies, striving after a
scalp.”

“Surely, surely, Deerslayer, she cannot be a woman,
and not feel concern when she thinks the man she loves is
in danger!”

“She doesn't think of the danger, Judith, but of the honour;
and when the heart is desperately set on such feelin's,
why there is little room to crowd in fear. Hist is a kind,
gentle, laughing, pleasant creatur', but she loves honour, as
well as any Delaware gal I ever know'd. She's to meet
the Sarpent an hour hence, on the p'int where Hetty landed,
and no doubt she has her anxiety about it, like any other
woman; but she'd be all the happier did she know that
her lover was at this moment way-laying a Mingo for his
scalp.”

“If you really believe this, Deerslayer, no wonder you
lay so much stress on gifts. Certain am I, that no white
girl could feel any thing but misery while she believed her
betrothed in danger of his life! Nor do I suppose even
you, unmoved and calm as you ever seem to be, could be at
peace, if you believed your Hist in danger.”

“That's a different matter—'t is altogether a different
matter, Judith. Woman is too weak and gentle to be intended
to run such risks, and man must feel for her. Yes,
I rather think that's as much red natur', as it's white.
But I have no Hist, nor am I like to have; for I hold it

wrong to mix colours, any way except in friendship, and
sarvices.”

“In that you are and feel as a white man should! As
for Hurry Harry, I do think it would be all the same to him,
whether his wife were a squaw, or a governor's daughter,
provided she was a little comely, and could help to keep his
craving stomach full.”

“You do March injustice, Judith; yes, you do. The
poor fellow dotes on you, and when a man has ra'ally set
his heart on such a creatur', it isn't a Mingo, or even a
Delaware gal, that'll be likely to unsettle his mind. You
may laugh at such men as Hurry, and I, for we're rough,
and unteached in the way of books and other knowledge;
but we've our good p'ints, as well as our bad ones. An
honest heart is not to be despised, gal, even though it be not
varsed in all the niceties that please a female fancy.”

“You, Deerslayer!—And do you—can you, for an instant,
suppose I place you by the side of Harry March?
No, no. I am not so far gone in dullness as that. No one
—man or woman—could think of naming your honest
heart, manly nature, and simple truth, with the boisterous
selfishness, greedy avarice, and overbearing ferocity of
Henry March. The very best that can be said of him, is
to be found in his name of Hurry Skurry, which, if it means
no great harm, means no great good. Even my father, following
his feelings with the other, as he is doing, at this
moment, well knows the difference between you. This I
know, for he has said as much to me, in plain language.”

Judith was a girl of quick sensibilities, and of impetuous
feelings; and, being under few of the restraints that curtail
the manifestations of maiden emotions, among those who
are educated in the habits of civilized life, she sometimes
betrayed the latter with a freedom that was so purely natural,
as to place it as far above the wiles of coquetry, as it
was superior to its heartlessness. She had now even taken
one of the hard hands of the hunter, and pressed it between
both her own, with a warmth and earnestness that proved
how sincere was her language. It was perhaps fortunate
that she was checked by the very excess of her feelings,
since the same power might have urged her on to avow all
that her father had said—the old man not having been satisfied

with making a comparison favourable to Deerslayer,
as between the hunter and Hurry, but having actually, in
his blunt rough way, briefly advised his daughter to cast
off the latter entirely, and to think of the former as a husband.
Judith would not willingly have said this to any other
man, but there was so much confidence awakened by the
guileless simplicity of Deerslayer, that one of her nature
found it a constant temptation to overstep the bounds of
habit. She went no farther, however, immediately relinquishing
the hand, and falling back on a reserve that was
more suited to her sex, and, indeed, to her natural modesty.

“Thank'ee, Judith, thank'ee, with all my heart,” returned
the hunter, whose humility prevented him from placing
any flattering interpretation on either the conduct, or the
language of the girl. “Thank'ee, as much as if it was all
true. Harry's sightly—yes, he's as sightly as the tallest
pine of these mountains, and the Sarpent has named him
accordingly; howsever, some fancy good looks, and some
fancy good conduct, only. Hurry has one advantage, and
it depends on himself whether he'll have the t'other or—
Hark! that's your father's voice, gal, and he speaks like a
man who's riled at something.”

“God save us from any more of these horrible scenes!”
exclaimed Judith, bending her face to her knees, and endeavouring
to exclude the discordant sounds, by applying
her hands to her ears. “I sometimes wish I had no father!”

This was bitterly said, and the repinings which extorted
the words, were bitterly felt. It is impossible to say what
might next have escaped her, had not a gentle, low voice
spoken at her elbow.

“Judith, I ought to have read a chapter to father and
Hurry!” said the innocent, but terrified speaker, “and that
would have kept them from going again on such an errand.
Do you call to them, Deerslayer, and tell them I want them,
and that it will be good for them both, if they'll return, and
hearken to my words.”

“Ahs! me—poor Hetty, you little know the cravin's for
gold and revenge, if you believe they are so easily turned
aside from their longin's! But this is an uncommon business,
in more ways than one, Judith! I hear your father
and Hurry growling like bears, and yet no noise comes

from the mouth of the young chief. There's an end of
secresy, and yet his whoop, which ought to ring in the
mountains, accordin' to rule, in such sarcumstances, is
silent!”

“Justice may have alighted on him, and his death has
saved the lives of the innocent.”

“Not it—not it—the Sarpent is not the one to suffer, if
that's to be the law. Sartainly there has been no onset,
and 't is most likely that the camp's deserted, and the men
are coming back disapp'inted. That accounts for the growls
of Hurry and the silence of the Sarpent.”

Just at this instant a fall of a paddle was heard in the
canoe, for vexation had made March reckless; and Deerslayer
felt convinced that his conjecture was true. The
sail being down, the ark had not drifted far, and ere many
minutes, he heard Chingachgook, in a low quiet tone, directing
Hutter how to steer in order to reach it. In less
time than it takes to tell the fact, the canoe touched the
scow, and the adventurers entered the latter. Neither Hutter
nor Hurry spoke of what had occurred. But the Delaware,
in passing his friend, merely uttered the words,
“fire's out;” which, if not literally true, sufficiently explained
the truth to his listener.

It was now a question as to the course to be steered. A
short surly conference was held, when Hutter decided that
the wisest way would be to keep in motion, as the means
most likely to defeat any attempt at a surprise—announcing
his own and March's intention to requite themselves for the
loss of sleep, during their captivity, by lying down. As
the air still baffled and continued light, it was finally determined
to sail before it, let it come in what direction it might,
so long as it did not blow the ark upon the strand. This
point settled, the released prisoners helped to hoist the sail,
and then they threw themselves on two of the pallets,
leaving Deerslayer and his friend to look after the movements
of the craft. As neither of the latter was disposed
to sleep, on account of the appointment with Hist, this arrangement
was acceptable to all parties. That Judith and
Hetty remained up also, in no manner impaired the agreeable
features of this change.

For some time the scow rather drifted than sailed along

the western shore, following a light southerly current of the
air. The progress was slow—not exceeding a couple of
miles in the hour—but the two men perceived that it was
not only carrying them towards the point they desired to
reach, but at a rate that was quite as fast as the hour yet
rendered necessary. But little was said the while, even
by the girls; and that little had more reference to the rescue
of Hist, than to any other subject. The Indian was
calm, to the eye; but as minute after minute passed, his feelings
became more and more excited, until they reached a
state that might have satisfied the demands of even the
most exacting mistress. Deerslayer kept the craft as much
in the bays as was prudent, for the double purpose of sailing
within the shadows of the woods, and of detecting any
signs of an encampment they might pass on the shore. In
this manner they had doubled one low point, and were
already in the bay that was terminated north by the goal
at which they aimed. The latter was still a quarter of a
mile distant, when Chingachgook came silently to the side
of his friend, and pointed to a place directly ahead. A
small fire was glimmering just within the verge of the
bushes that lined the shore, on the southern side of the
point—leaving no doubt that the Indians had suddenly removed
their camp to the very place, or at least to the very
projection of land, where Hist had given them the rendezvous!