 | CHAPTER II. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path |  |
2. CHAPTER II.
And the hunter's hearth away;
For the time of flowers, for the summer's pride,
Daughter! thou canst not stay.”
Records of Woman.
Our two adventurers had not far to go. Hurry knew the
direction, as soon as he had found the open spot and the
spring, and he now led on with the confident step of a man
assured of his object. The forest was dark, as a matter of
course, but it was no longer obstructed by under-brush, and
the footing was firm and dry. After proceeding near a
mile, March stopped, and began to cast about him with an
inquiring look, examining the different objects with care,
and occasionally turning his eyes on the trunks of the fallen
trees, with which the ground was well sprinkled, as is usually
the case in an American wood, especially in those parts of
the country where timber has not yet become valuable.
“This must be the place, Deerslayer,” March at length
observed; “here is a beech by the side of a hemlock, with
three pines at hand, and yonder is a white birch with a
broken top; and yet I see no rock, nor any of the branches
bent down, as I told you would be the case.”
“Broken branches are onskilful landmarks, as the least-exper'enced
know that branches don't often break of themselves,”
returned the other; “and they also lead to suspicion
and discoveries. The Delawares never trust to broken
branches, unless it is in friendly times, and on an open trail.
As for the beeches, and pines, and hemlocks, why, they are
to be seen on all sides of us, not only by two and three's,
but by forties, and fifties, and hundreds.”
“Very true, Deerslayer, but you never calculate on position.
Here is a beech and a hemlock—”
“Yes, and there is another beech and a hemlock, as
loving as two brothers, or, for that matter, more loving than
some brothers; and yonder are others, for neither tree is a
rarity in these woods. I fear me, Hurry, you are better at
trapping beaver and shooting bears, than at leading on a
after all!”
“Now, Deerslayer, this is one of your Delaware pretensions,
for, hang me if I see any thing but these trees, which
do seem to start up around us, in a most onaccountable and
perplexing manner.”
“Look this-a-way, Hurry—here, in a line with the black
oak—don't you see the crooked sapling that is hooked up
in the branches of the bass-wood, near it? Now, that sapling
was once snow-ridden, and got the bend by its weight;
but it never straightened itself, and fastened itself in among
the bass-wood branches in the way you see. The hand of
man did that act of kindness for it.”
“That hand was mine!” exclaimed Hurry; “I found
the slender, young thing, bent to the airth, like an unfortunate
creatur' borne down by misfortune, and stuck it up
where you see it. After all, Deerslayer, I must allow,
you're getting to have an oncommon good eye for the
woods!”
“'T is improving, Hurry—'t is improving, I will acknowledge;
but 't is still only a child's eye, compared to
some I know. There's Tamenund, now, though a man so
old that few remember when he was in his prime, Tamenund
lets nothing escape his look, which is more like the
scent of a hound, than the sight of an eye. Then Uncas,
the father of Chingachgook, and the lawful chief of the
Mohicans, is another that it is almost hopeless to pass unseen.
I'm improving, I will allow—I'm improving, but
far from being perfect, as yet.”
“And who is this Chingachgook, of whom you talk so
much, Deerslayer?” asked Hurry, as he moved off in the
direction of the righted sapling; “a loping red-skin, at the
best, I make no question.”
“Not so, Hurry, but the best of loping red-skins, as you
call 'em. If he had his rights, he would be a great chief;
but, as it is, he is only a brave and just-minded Delaware;
respected, and even obeyed in some things, 't is true, but of
a fallen race, and belonging to a fallen people. Ah! Harry
March, 't would warm the heart within you to sit in their
lodges of a winter's night, and listen to the traditions of the
ancient greatness and power of the Mohicans!”
“Harkee, fri'nd Nathaniel,” said Hurry, stopping short
to face his companion, in order that his words might carry
greater weight with them, “if a man believed all that other
people choose to say in their own favour, he might get an
oversized opinion of them, and an undersized opinion of
himself. These red-skins are notable boasters, and I set
down more than half of their traditions as pure talk.”
“There is truth in what you say, Hurry, I'll not deny
it, for I've seen it, and believe it. They do boast, but then
that is a gift from natur'; and it's sinful to withstand nat'ral
gifts. See; this is the spot you come to find!”
This remark cut short the discourse, and both the men
now gave all their attention to the object immediately before
them. Deerslayer pointed out to his companion the trunk
of a huge linden, or bass-wood, as it is termed in the language
of the country, which had filled its time, and fallen
by its own weight. This tree, like so many millions of its
brethren, lay where it had fallen, and was mouldering under
the slow, but certain influence of the seasons. The decay,
however, had attacked its centre, even while it stood erect,
in the pride of vegetation, hollowing out its heart, as disease
sometimes destroys the vitals of animal life, even while a
fair exterior is presented to the observer. As the trunk lay
stretched for near a hundred feet along the earth, the quick
eye of the hunter detected this peculiarity, and, from this
and other circumstances, he knew it to be the tree of which
March was in search.
“Ay, here we have what we want,” cried Hurry, looking
in at the larger end of the linden; “every thing is as snug
as if it had been left in an old woman's cupboard. Come,
lend me a hand, Deerslayer, and we'll be afloat in half an
hour.”
At this call the hunter joined his companion, and the two
went to work deliberately, and regularly, like men accustomed
to the sort of thing in which they were employed. In
the first place, Hurry removed some pieces of bark that lay
before the large opening in the tree, and which the other
declared to be disposed in a way that would have been more
likely to attract attention, than to conceal the cover, had
any straggler passed that way. The two, then, drew out a
bark canoe, containing its seats, paddles, and other appliances,
no means small; but such was its comparative lightness,
and so gigantic was the strength of Hurry, that the latter
shouldered it with seeming ease, declining all assistance,
even in the act of raising it to the awkward position in which
he was obliged to hold it.
“Lead ahead, Deerslayer,” said March, “and open the
bushes; the rest I can do for myself.”
The other obeyed, and the men left the spot, Deerslayer
clearing the way for his companion, and inclining to the
right, or to the left, as the latter directed. In about ten
minutes, they both broke suddenly into the brilliant light of
the sun, on a low gravelly point, that was washed by water
on quite half its outline.
An exclamation of surprise broke from the lips of Deerslayer,
an exclamation that was low and guardedly made,
however, for his habits were much more thoughtful and regulated
than those of the reckless Hurry, when, on reaching
the margin of the lake, he beheld the view that unexpectedly
met his gaze. It was, in truth, sufficiently striking to merit
a brief description. On a level with the point lay a broad
sheet of water, so placid and limpid, that it resembled a
bed of the pure mountain atmosphere, compressed into a
setting of hills and woods. Its length was about three leagues,
while its breadth was irregular, expanding to half a league,
or even more, opposite to the point, and contracting to less
than half that distance, more to the southward. Of course,
its margin was irregular, being indented by bays, and broken
by many projecting, low points. At its northern, or nearest
end, it was bounded by an isolated mountain, lower land
falling off, east and west, gracefully relieving the sweep of
the outline. Still the character of the country was mountainous;
high hills, or low mountains, rising abruptly from
the water, on quite nine-tenths of its circuit. The exceptions,
indeed, only served a little to vary the scene; and even
beyond the parts of the shore that were comparatively low,
the back-ground was high, though more distant.
But the most striking peculiarities of this scene were its
solemn solitude, and sweet repose. On all sides, wherever
the eye turned, nothing met it but the mirror-like surface of
the lake, the placid view of heaven, and the dense setting of
that scarce an opening could be seen, the whole visible earth,
from the rounded mountain-top to the water's edge, presenting
one unvaried hue of unbroken verdure. As if vegetation
were not satisfied with a triumph so complete, the trees
overhung the lake itself, shooting out towards the light; and
there were miles along its eastern shore, where a boat might
have pulled beneath the branches of dark Rembrandt-looking
hemlocks, “quivering aspens,” and melancholy pines.
In a word, the hand of man had never yet defaced or deformed
any part of this native scene, which lay bathed in
the sun-light, a glorious picture of affluent forest-grandeur,
softened by the balminess of June, and relieved by the beautiful
variety afforded by the presence of so broad an expanse
of water.
“This is grand!—'t is solemn!—'t is an edication of
itself, to look upon!” exclaimed Deerslayer, as he stood
leaning on his rifle, and gazing to the right and left, north
and south, above and beneath, in whichever direction his
eye could wander; “not a tree disturbed even by red-skin
hand, as I can discover, but every thing left in the ordering
of the Lord, to live and die according to his own designs
and laws! Hurry, your Judith ought to be a moral and
well-disposed young woman, if she has passed half the time
you mention in the centre of a spot so favoured.”
“That's a naked truth; and yet the gal has the vagaries.
All her time has not been passed here, howsever, old Tom
having the custom, afore I know'd him, of going to spend
the winters in the neighbourhood of the settlers, or under the
guns of the forts. No, no, Jude has caught more than is for
her good from the settlers, and especially from the gallantifying
officers.”
“If she has—if she has, Hurry, this is a school to set
her mind right ag'in. But what is this I see off here,
abreast of us, that seems too small for an island, and too
large for a boat, though it stands in the midst of the water.”
“Why, that is what these gallanting gentry, from the
forts, call Muskrat Castle; and old Tom, himself, will grin
at the name, though it bears so hard on his own natur' and
character. 'T is the stationary house, there being two; this,
which never moves, and the other, that floats, being sometimes
The last goes by the name of the ark, though what may be
the meaning of the word is more than I can tell you.”
“It must come from the missionaries, Hurry, whom I
have heard speak and read of such a thing. They say that
the 'arth was once covered with water, and that Noah, with
his children, were saved from drowning by building a vessel
called an ark, in which he embarked in season. Some of
the Delawares believe this tradition, and some deny it; but
it behoves you and me, as white men born, to put our faith
in its truth. Do you see any thing of this ark?”
“'T is down south, no doubt, or anchored in some of the
bays. But the canoe is ready, and fifteen minutes will carry
two such paddles as your'n and mine, to the castle.”
At this suggestion, Deerslayer helped his companion to
place the different articles in the canoe, which was already
afloat. This was no sooner done, than the two frontier-men
embarked, and, by a vigorous push, sent the light bark
some eight or ten rods from the shore. Hurry now took
the seat in the stern, while Deerslayer placed himself forward,
and, by leisurely but steady strokes of the paddles,
the canoe glided across the placid sheet, towards the extraordinary-looking
structure, that the former had styled Muskrat
Castle. Several times the men ceased paddling, and
looked about them at the scene, as new glimpses opened
from behind points enabling them to see further down the
lake, or to get broader views of the wooded mountains. The
only changes, however, were in the new forms of the hills,
the varying curvature of the bays, and the wider reaches
of the valley south; the whole earth, apparently, being
clothed in a gala-dress of leaves.
“This is a sight to warm the heart!” exclaimed Deerslayer,
when they had thus stopped for the fourth or fifth
time; “the lake seems made to let us get an insight into
the noble forests; and land and water, alike, stand in the
beauty of God's providence! Do you say, Hurry, that
there is no man who calls himself lawful owner of all these
glories?”
“None but the King, lad. He may pretend to some right
of that natur', but he is so far away, that his claim will
never trouble old Tom Hutter, who has got possession, and
not being on land; but I call him a floater.”
“I invy that man!—I know it's wrong, and I strive
ag'in the feelin', but I invy that man! Don't think, Hurry,
that I'm consarting any plan to put myself in his moccasins,
for such a thought doesn't harbour in my mind; but
I can't help a little invy! 'T is a nat'ral feelin', and the
best of us are but nat'ral, after all, and give way to such
feelin's, at times.”
“You've only to marry Hetty to inherit half the estate,”
cried Hurry, laughing; “the gal is comely; nay, if it was
n't for her sister's beauty, she would be even handsome; and
then her wits are so small, that you may easily convart her
into one of your own way of thinking, in all things. Do
you take Hetty off the old fellow's hands, and I'll engage
he'll give you an interest in every deer you can knock
over within five miles of his lake.”
“Does game abound?” suddenly demanded the other,
who paid but little attention to March's raillery.
“It has the country to itself. Scarce a trigger is pulled
on it; and as for the trappers, this is not a region they greatly
frequent. I ought not to be so much here, myself, but Jude
pulls one way, while the beaver pulls another. More than
a hundred Spanish dollars has that creatur' cost me, the
two last seasons; and yet I could not forego the wish to
look upon her face once more.”
“Do the red-men often visit this lake, Hurry?” continued
Deerslayer, pursuing his own train of thought.
“Why, they come and go; sometimes in parties, and
sometimes singly. The country seems to belong to no native
tribe in particular; and so it has fallen into the hands
of the Hutter tribe. The old man tells me that some sharp
ones have been wheedling the Mohawks for an Indian deed,
in order to get a title out of the Colony; but nothing has
come of it, seeing that no one, heavy enough for such a trade,
has yet meddled with the matter. The hunters have a good
life-lease, still, of this wilderness.”
“So much the better—so much the better, Hurry. If I
was King of England, the man that felled one of these
trees without good occasion for the timber, should be banished
to a desarted and forlorn region, in which no four-footed
app'inted our meeting on this lake, for, hitherto, eye
of mine never looked on such a glorious spectacle!”
“That's because you've kept so much among the Delawares,
in whose country there are no lakes. Now, farther
north, and father west, these bits of water abound; and
you're young, and may yet live to see 'em. But, though
there be other lakes, Deerslayer, there's no other Judith
Hutter!”
At this remark his companion smiled, and then he
dropped his paddle into the water, as if in consideration of
a lover's haste. Both now pulled vigorously until they got
within a hundred yards of the “castle,” as Hurry familiarly
called the house of Hutter, when they again ceased
paddling; the admirer of Judith restraining his impatience
the more readily, as he perceived that the building was untenanted,
at the moment. This new pause was to enable
Deerslayer to survey the singular edifice, which was of a
construction so novel as to merit a particular description.
Muskrat Castle, as the house had been facetiously named
by some waggish officer, stood in the open lake, at a distance
of fully a quarter of a mile from the nearest shore.
On every other side the water extended much farther, the
precise position being distant about two miles from the
northern end of the sheet, and near, if not quite a mile
from its eastern shore. As there was not the smallest appearance
of any island, but the house stood on piles, with
the water flowing beneath it, and Deerslayer had already
discovered that the lake was of a great depth, he was fain
to ask an explanation of this singular circumstance. Hurry
solved the difficulty by telling him that on this spot alone,
a long narrow shoal, which extended for a few hundred
yards in a north and south direction, rose within six or
eight feet of the surface of the lake, and that Hutter had
driven piles into it, and placed his habitation on them, for
the purpose of security.
“The old fellow was burnt out three times, atween the
Indians and the hunters; and in one affray with the red-skins
he lost his only son, since which time he has taken
to the water for safety. No one can attack him, here,
without coming in a boat, and the plunder and scalps would
it's by no means sartain which would whip, in such a
skrimmage, for old Tom is well supplied with arms and
ammunition, and the castle, as you may see, is a tight
breast-work, ag'in light shot.
Deerslayer had some theoretical knowledge of frontier
warfare, though he had never yet been called on to raise
his hand, in anger, against a fellow-creature. He saw that
Hurry did not overrate the strength of this position, in a
military point of view, since it would not be easy to attack
it, without exposing the assailants to the fire of the besieged.
A good deal of art had also been manifested in the
disposition of the timber, of which the building was constructed,
and which afforded a protection much greater than
was usual to the ordinary log-cabins of the frontier. The
sides and ends were composed of the trunks of large pines,
cut about nine feet long, and placed upright, instead of being
laid horizontally, as was the practice of the country. These
logs were squared on three sides, and had large tenons on
each end. Massive sills were secured on the heads of the
piles, with suitable grooves dug out of their upper surfaces,
which had been squared for the purpose, and the lower
tenons of the upright pieces were placed in these grooves,
giving them a secure fastening below. Plates had been laid
on the upper ends of the upright logs, and were kept in their
places by a similar contrivance; the several corners of the
structure being well fastened by scarfing and pinning the
sills and plates. The floors were made of smaller logs,
similarly squared, and the roof was composed of light poles,
firmly united, and well covered with bark. The effect of
this ingenious arrangement was to give its owner a house
that could be aprroached only by water, the sides of which
were composed of logs, closely wedged together, which were
two feet thick in their thinnest parts, and which could be
separated only by a deliberate and laborious use of human
hands, or by the slow operation of time. The outer surface
of the building was rude and uneven, the logs being of unequal
sizes; but the squared surfaces within, gave both the
sides and floor as uniform an appearance as was desired,
either for use or show. The chimney was not the least
singular portion of the castle, as Hurry made his companion
been made. The material was a stiff clay, properly worked,
which had been put together in a mould of sticks, and suffered
to harden, a foot or two at a time, commencing at the
bottom. When the entire chimney had thus been raised,
and had been properly bound in with outward props, a brisk
fire was kindled, and kept going until it was burned to
something like a brick-red. This had not been an easy
operation, nor had it succeeded entirely; but by dint of filling
the cracks with fresh clay, a safe fire-place and chimney
had been obtained in the end. This part of the work stood
on the log-floor, secured beneath by an extra pile. There
were a few other peculiarities about this dwelling, which
will better appear in the course of the narrative.
“Old Tom is full of contrivances,” added Hurry, “and he
set his heart on the success of his chimney, which threatened,
more than once, to give out altogether; but parseverance
will even overcome smoke; and now he has a comfortable
cabin of it, though it did promise, at one time, to be a chinky
sort of a flue to carry flames and fire.”
“You seem to know the whole history of the castle,
Hurry, chimney and sides,” said Deerslayer, smiling; “is
love so overcoming that it causes a man to study the story
of his sweetheart's habitation?”
“Partly that, lad, and partly eyesight,” returned the
good-natured giant, laughing; “there was a large gang of
us, in at the lake, the summer the old fellow built, and we
helped him along with the job. I raised no small part of
the weight of them uprights, with my own shoulders, and
the axes flew, I can inform you, Master Natty, while we
were bee-ing it among the trees ashore. The old devil is no
way stingy about food, and as we had often eat at his hearth,
we thought we would just house him comfortably, afore we
went to Albany with our skins. Yes, many is the meal I've
swallowed in Tom Hutter's cabins; and Hetty, though so
weak in the way of wits, has a wonderful particular way
about a frying-pan or a gridiron!”
While the parties were thus discoursing, the canoe had
been gradually drawing nearer to the “castle,” and was
now so close, as to require but a single stroke of a paddle
to reach the landing. This was at a floored platform in
feet square.
“Old Tom calls this sort of a wharf, his door-yard,” observed
Hurry, as he fastened the canoe, after he and his
companion had left it; “and the gallants from the forts have
named it the `castle court,' though what a `court' can have
to do here, is more than I can tell you, seeing that there is
no law. 'T is as I supposed; not a soul within, but the
whole family is off on a v'y'ge of discovery!”
While Hurry was bustling about the “door-yard,” examining
the fishing-spears, rods, nets, and other similar appliances
of a frontier cabin, Deerslayer, whose manner was
altogether more rebuked and quiet, entered the building,
with a curiosity that was not usually exhibited by one so
long trained in Indian habits. The interior of the “castle”
was as faultlessly neat, as its exterior was novel. The
entire space, some twenty feet by forty, was subdivided into
several small sleeping-rooms; the apartment into which he
first entered, serving equally for the ordinary uses of its
inmates, and for a kitchen. The furniture was of the strange
mixture that it is not uncommon to find in the remotely
situated log-tenements of the interior. Most of it was rude,
and, to the last degree, rustic; but there was a clock, with a
handsome case of dark wood, in a corner, and two or three
chairs, with a table and bureau, that had evidently come
from some dwelling of more than usual pretension. The
clock was industriously ticking, but its leaden-looking hands
did no discredit to their dull aspect, for they pointed to the
hour of eleven, though the sun plainly showed it was some
time past the turn of the day. There was also a dark,
massive chest. The kitchen utensils were of the simplest
kind, and far from numerous, but every article was in its
place, and showed the nicest care in its condition.
After Deerslayer had cast a look about him in the outer
room, he raised a wooden latch, and entered a narrow passage
that divided the inner end of the house into two equal
parts. Frontier usages being no way scrupulous, and his
curiosity being strongly excited, the young man now opened
a door, and found himself in a bed-room. A single glance
sufficed to show that the apartment belonged to females.
The bed was of the feathers of wild-geese, and filled nearly to
from the floor. On one side of it were arranged, on pegs,
various dresses, of a quality much superior to what one
would expect to meet in such a place, with ribands, and other
similar articles, to correspond. Pretty shoes, with handsome
silver buckles, such as were then worn by females in
easy circumstances, were not wanting; and no less than six
fans, of gay colours, were placed half open, in a way to
catch the eye by their conceits and hues. Even the pillow,
on this side of the bed, was covered with finer linen than its
companion, and it was ornamented with a small ruffle. A
cap, coquettishly decorated with ribands, hung above it, and
a pair of long gloves, such as were rarely used in those days
by persons of the labouring classes, were pinned ostentatiously
to it, as if with an intention to exhibit them there, if
they could not be shown on the owner's arms.
All this Deerslayer saw, and noted with a degree of minuteness
that would have done credit to the habitual observation
of his friends, the Delawares. Nor did he fail to
perceive the distinction that existed between the appearances
on the different sides of the bed, the head of which stood
against the wall. On that opposite to the one just described,
every thing was homely, and uninviting, except through its
perfect neatness. The few garments that were hanging
from the pegs, were of the coarsest materials, and of the
commonest forms, while nothing seemed made for show.
Of ribands there was not one; nor was there either cap or
kerchief, beyond those which Hutter's daughters might be
fairly entitled to wear.
It was now several years since Deerslayer had been in a
spot especially devoted to the uses of females of his own
colour and race. The sight brought back to his mind a
rush of childish recollections; and he lingered in the room
with a tenderness of feeling to which he had long been a
stranger. He bethought him of his mother, whose homely
vestments he remembered to have seen hanging on pegs,
like those which he felt must belong to Hetty Hutter; and
he bethought himself of a sister, whose incipient and native
taste for finery had exhibited itself somewhat in the manner
of that of Judith, though necessarily in a less degree.
These little resemblances opened a long-hidden vein of sensations;
mien. He looked no further, but returned slowly and
thoughtfully towards the “door-yard.”
“Old Tom has taken to a new calling, and has been trying
his hand at the traps,” cried Hurry, who had been coolly
examining the borderer's implements; “if that is his humour,
and you're disposed to remain in these parts, we can
make an oncommon comfortable season of it; for, while the
old man and I out-knowledge the beaver, you can fish, and
knock down the deer, to keep body and soul together. We
always give the poorest hunters half a share, but one as
actyve and sartain as yourself, might expect a full one.”
“Thank'ee, Hurry; thank'ee, with all my heart—but I
do a little beavering for myself, as occasions offer. 'T is
true, the Delawares call me Deerslayer, but it's not so much
because I'm pretty fatal with the venison, as because that
while I kill so many bucks and does, I've never yet taken
the life of a fellow-creatur'! They say their traditions do
not tell of another who had shed so much blood of animals,
that had not shed the blood of man.”
“I hope they don't account you chicken-hearted, lad? A
faint-hearted man is like a no-tailed beaver.”
“I don't believe, Hurry, that they account me as out-of-the-way
timorsome, even though they may not account me as
out-of-the-way brave. But I'm not quarrelsome; and that
goes a great way towards keeping blood off the hands, among
the hunters and red-skins; and then, Harry March, it keeps
blood off the conscience, too.”
“Well, for my part, I account game, a red-skin, and a
Frenchman as pretty much the same thing; though I'm as
onquarrelsome a man, too, as there is in all the Colonies. I
despise a quarreller, as I do a cur-dog; but one has no need
to be over-scrupulsome, when it's the right time to show
the flint.”
“I look upon him as the most of a man, who acts nearest
the right, Hurry. But this is a glorious spot, and my eyes
never a-weary looking at it!”
“'T is your first acquaintance with a lake; and these
idees come over us all, at such times. Lakes have a general
character, as I say, being pretty much water and land,
and points and bays.”
As this definition by no means met the feelings that were
uppermost in the mind of the young hunter, he made no immediate
answer, but stood gazing at the dark hills, and the
glassy water, in silent enjoyment.
“Have the Governor's, or the King's people given this
lake a name?” he suddenly asked, as if struck with a new
idea. “If they 've not begun to blaze their trees, and set
up their compasses, and line off their maps, it's likely
they've not bethought them to disturb natur' with a name.”
“They've not got to that, yet; and the last time I went
in with skins, one of the King's surveyors was questioning
me consarning all the region hereabouts. He had heard
that there was a lake in this quarter, and had got some
general notions about it, such as that there was water and
hills; but how much of either, he know'd no more than you
know of the Mohawk tongue. I did n't open the trap any
wider than was necessary, giving him but poor encouragement
in the way of farms and clearings. In short, I left on
his mind some such opinion of this country as a man gets
of a spring of dirty water, with a path to it that is so muddy
that one mires afore he sets out. He told me they had n't
got the spot down, yet, on their maps; though I conclude
that is a mistake, for he showed me his parchment, and
there is a lake down on it where there is no lake, in fact,
and which is about fifty miles from the place where it ought
to be, if they meant it for this. I don't think my account
will encourage him to mark down another, by way of improvement.”
Here Hurry laughed heartily, such tricks being particularly
grateful to a set of men who dreaded the approaches
of civilization as a curtailment of their own lawless empire.
The egregious errors that existed in the maps of the day, all
of which were made in Europe, was, moreover, a standing
topic of ridicule among them; for, if they had not science
enough to make any better themselves, they had sufficient
local information to detect the gross blunders contained in
those that existed. Any one, who will take the trouble to
compare these unanswerable evidences of the topographical
skill of our fathers a century since, with the more accurate
sketches of our own time, will at once perceive that the men
of the woods had sufficient justification for all their criticism
did not at all hesitate to place a river, or a lake, a degree
or two out of the way, even though they lay within a day's
march of the inhabited parts of the country.
“I'm glad it has no name,” resumed Deerslayer, “or, at
least, no pale-face name; for their christenings always foretell
waste and destruction. No doubt, howsever, the red-skins
have their modes of knowing it, and the hunters and
trappers, too; they are likely to call the place by something
reasonable and resembling.”
“As for the tribes, each has its own tongue, and its own
way of calling things; and they treat this part of the world
just as they treat all others. Among ourselves, we've got
to calling the place the `Glimmerglass,' seeing that its whole
basin is so often fringed with pines, cast upward from its
face; as if it would throw back the hills that hang over it.”
“There is an outlet, I know, for all lakes have outlets,
and the rock at which I am to meet Chingachgook stands
near an outlet. “Has that no Colony-name, yet?”
“In that particular they've got the advantage of us,
having one end, and that the biggest, in their own keeping;
they've given it a name which has found its way up to its
source; names nat'rally working up stream. No doubt,
Deerslayer, you've seen the Susquehannah, down in the
Delaware country?”
“That have I, and hunted along its banks a hundred
times.”
“That and this are the same, in fact, and, I suppose, the
same in sound. I am glad they've been compelled to keep
the red-men's name, for it would be too hard to rob them of
both land and name!”
Deerslayer made no answer; but he stood leaning on his
rifle, gazing at the view which so much delighted him. The
reader is not to suppose, however, that it was the picturesque
alone which so strongly attracted his attention. The spot
was very lovely, of a truth, and it was then seen in one of
its most favourable moments, the surface of the lake being
as smooth as glass, and as limpid as pure air, throwing back
the mountains, clothed in dark pines, along the whole of its
eastern boundary, the points thrusting forward their trees
even to nearly horizontal lines, while the bays were seen
fretted with branches and leaves. It was the air of deep
repose—the solitudes, that spoke of scenes and forests untouched
by the hands of man—the reign of nature, in a
word, that gave so much pure delight to one of his habits
and turn of mind. Still, he felt, though it was unconsciously,
like a poet also. If he found a pleasure in studying this
large, and, to him, unusual opening into the mysteries and
forms of the woods, as one is gratified in getting broader
views of any subject that has long occupied his thoughts, he
was not insensible to the innate loveliness of such a landscape
neither, but felt a portion of that soothing of the spirit
which is a common attendant of a scene so thoroughly pervaded
by the holy calm of nature.
| CHAPTER II. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path | |