 | CHAPTER III. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path |  |
3. CHAPTER III.
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,—
Being native burghers of this desert city,—
Should, in their own confines, with forked heads
Have their round haunches gored.”
Shakspeare.
Hurry Harry thought more of the beauties of Judith
Hutter, than of those of the Glimmerglass, and its accompanying
scenery. As soon as he had taken a sufficiently
intimate survey of Floating Tom's implements, therefore, he
summoned his companion to the canoe, that they might go
down the lake in quest of the family. Previously to embarking,
however, Hurry carefully examined the whole of
the northern end of the water, with an indifferent ship's
glass, that formed a part of Hutter's effects. In this scrutiny,
no part of the shore was overlooked; the bays and
points, in particular, being subjected to a closer inquiry than
the rest of the wooded boundary.
“'T is as I thought,” said Hurry, laying aside the glass,
“the old fellow is drifting about the south end, this fine
we know that he is not up this-a-way; 't will be but a small
matter to paddle down, and hunt him up in his hiding-place.”
“Does Master Hutter think it necessary to burrow on
this lake?” inquired Deerslayer, as he followed his companion
into the canoe; “to my eye, it is such a solitude as
one might open his whole soul in, and fear no one to disarrange
his thoughts, or his worship.”
“You forget your friends, the Mingos, and all the French
savages. Is there a spot on 'arth, Deerslayer, to which
them disquiet rogues don't go? Where is the lake, or even
the deer-lick, that the blackguards don't find out; and, having
found out, don't, sooner or late, discolour its water with
blood?”
“I hear no good character of them, sartainly, friend
Hurry, though I've never been called on, as yet, to meet
them, or any other mortal, on the war-path. I dare to say
that such a lovely spot as this, would not be likely to be
overlooked by such plunderers; for, though I've not been
in the way of quarrelling with them tribes myself, the Delawares
give me such an account of 'em, that I've pretty much
set'em down, in my own mind, as thorough miscreants.”
“You may do that with a safe conscience, or, for that
matter, any other savage you may happen to meet.”
Here Deerslayer protested, and, as they went paddling
down the lake, a hot discussion was maintained concerning
the respective merits of the pale-faces and the red-skins.
Hurry had all the prejudices and antipathies of a white
hunter, who generally regards the Indian as a sort of natural
competitor, and, not unfrequently, as a natural enemy.
As a matter of course, he was loud, clamorous, dogmatical,
and not very argumentative. Deerslayer, on the other hand,
manifested a very different temper; proving, by the moderation
of his language, the fairness of his views; and the simplicity
of his distinctions, that he possessed every disposition
to hear reason, a strong, innate desire to do justice, and an
ingenuousness that was singularly indisposed to have recourse
to sophisms to maintain an argument, or to defend a
prejudice. Still, he was not altogether free from the influence
of the latter feeling. This tyrant of the human mind,
which rushes on its prey through a thousand avenues, almost
seldom relinquishes his iron sway until they cease to do
either, had made some impression on even the just propensities
of this individual, who probably offered, in these particulars,
a fair specimen of what absence from bad example,
the want of temptation to go wrong, and native good
feeling, can render youth.
“You will allow, Deerslayer, that a Mingo is more than
half devil,” cried Hurry, following up the discussion with an
animation that touched closely on ferocity, “though you
want to over-persuade me that the Delaware tribe is pretty
much made up of angels. Now, I gainsay that proposal,
consarning white men, even. All white men are not faultless,
and therefore all Indians can't be faultless. And so
your argument is out at the elbow, in the start. But, this is
what I call reason. Here's three colours on 'arth; white,
black, and red. White is the highest colour, and therefore
the best man; black comes next, and is put to live in the
neighbourhood of the white man, as tolerable, and fit to be
made use of; and red comes last, which shows that those
that made 'em never expected an Indian to be accounted as
more than half human.”
“God made all three alike, Hurry.”
“Alike! Do you call a nigger like a white man, or me
like an Indian?”
“You go off at half-cock, and don't hear me out. God
made us all, white, black, and red; and, no doubt, had his
own wise intentions in colouring us differently. Still, he
made us, in the main, much the same in feelin's; though,
I'll not deny that he gave each race its gifts. A white
man's gifts are christianized, while a red-skin's are more for
the wilderness. Thus, it would be a great offence for a
white man to scalp the dead; whereas, it's a signal vartue
in an Indian. Then ag'in, a white man cannot amboosh
women and children in war, while a red-skin may. 'T is
cruel work, I'll allow; but for them it's lawful work;
while for us, it would be grievous work.”
“That depends on your inimy. As for scalping, or even
skinning a savage, I look upon them pretty much the same
as cutting off the ears of wolves, for the bounty, or stripping
a bear of its hide. And then you're out significantly, as to
Colony has offered a bounty for the job; all the same as it
pays for wolves' ears, and crows' heads.”
“Ay, and a bad business it is, Hurry. Even the Indians,
themselves, cry shame on it, seeing it's ag'in a white man's
gifts. I do not pretend that all that white men do, is properly
christianized, and according to the lights given them;
for then they would be what they ought to be; which we
know they are not; but I will maintain that tradition, and
use, and colour, and laws, make such a difference in
races as to amount to gifts. I do not deny that there are
tribes among the Indians that are nat'rally pervarse and
wicked, as there are nations among the whites. Now, I
account the Mingos as belonging to the first, and the Frenchers,
in the Canadas, to the last. In a state of lawful warfare,
such as we have lately got into, it is a duty to keep
down all compassionate feelin's, so far as life goes, ag'in
either; but when it comes to scalps, it's a very different
matter.”
“Just hearken to reason, if you please, Deerslayer, and
tell me if the Colony can make an onlawful law? Is n't an
onlawful law more ag'in natur' than scalpin' a savage?
A law can no more be onlawful, than truth can be a lie.”
“That sounds reasonable; but it has a most onreasonable
bearing, Hurry. Laws don't all come from the same
quarter. God has given us his'n, and some come from the
Colony, and others come from the king and parliament.
When the Colony's laws, or even the King's laws, run ag'in
the laws of God, they get to be onlawful, and ought not to
be obeyed. I hold to a white man's respecting white laws,
so long as they do not cross the track of a law comin' from
a higher authority; and for a red-man to obey his own redskin
usages, under the same privilege. But, 't is useless
talking, as each man will think for himself, and have his
say agreeable to his thoughts. Let us keep a good lookout
for your friend, Floating Tom, lest we pass him, as he
lies hidden under this bushy shore.”
Deerslayer had not named the borders of the lake amiss.
Along their whole length, the smaller trees overhung the
water, with their branches often dipping in the transparent
element. The banks were steep, even from the narrow
light, the effect was precisely that at which the lover of the
picturesque would have aimed, had the ordering of this glorious
setting of forest been submitted to his control. The
points and bays, too, were sufficiently numerous to render
the outline broken and diversified. As the canoe kept close
along the western side of the lake, with a view, as Hurry
had explained to his companion, of reconnoitring for enemies,
before he trusted himself too openly in sight, the expectations
of the two adventurers were kept constantly on
the stretch, as neither could foretell what the next turning
of a point might reveal. Their progress was swift, the
gigantic strength of Hurry enabling him to play with the
light bark as if it had been a feather, while the skill of his
companion almost equalized their usefulness, notwithstanding
the disparity in natural means.
Each time the canoe passed a point, Hurry turned a look
behind him, expecting to see the “ark” anchored, or beached
in the bay. He was fated to be disappointed, however; and
they had got within a mile of the southern end of the lake,
or a distance of quite two leagues from the “castle,” which
was now hidden from view by half a dozen intervening projections
of the land, when he suddenly ceased paddling, a
if uncertain in what direction next to steer.
“It is possible that the old chap has dropped into the
river,” said Hurry, after looking carefully along the whole
of the eastern shore, which was about a mile distant, and
open to his scrutiny for more than half its length; “for he
has taken to trapping considerable, of late, and, barring
flood-wood, he might drop down it, a mile or so; though he
would have a most scratching time in getting back again!”
“Where is this outlet?” asked Deerslayer; “I see no
opening in the banks, or the trees, that looks as if it would
let a river like the Susquehannah run through it.”
“Ay, Deerslayer, rivers are like human mortals; having
small beginnings, and ending with broad shoulders, and wide
mouths. You don't see the outlet, because it passes atween
high, steep banks; and the pines, and hemlocks, and basswoods
hang over it, as a roof hangs over a house. If old
Tom is not in the `Rat's Cove,' he must have burrowed in
we'll cross to the outlet.”
As they proceeded, Hurry explained that there was a
shallow bay, formed by a long, low point, that had gotten
the name of the “Rat's Cove,” from the circumstance of its
being a favourite haunt of the muskrat; and which offered
so complete a cover for the “ark,” that its owner was fond
of lying in it, whenever he found it convenient.
“As a man never knows who may be his visiters, in this
part of the country,” continued Hurry, “it's a great advantage
to get a good look at 'em, before they come too near.
Now it's war, such caution is more than commonly useful,
since a Canadian, or a Mingo, might get into his hut afore
he invited 'em. But Hutter is a first-rate look-outer, and
can pretty much scent danger, as a hound scents the deer.”
“I should think the castle so open, that it would be sartain
to draw inimies, if any happened to find the lake; a
thing onlikely enough, I will allow, as it's off the trail of
the forts and settlements.”
“Why, Deerslayer, I've got to believe that a man meets
with inimies easier than he meets with fri'nds. It's skearful
to think for how many causes one gets to be your inimy,
and for how few your fri'nd. Some take up the hatchet
because you don't think just as they think; other some because
you run ahead of 'em in the same idees; and I once
know'd a vagabond that quarrelled with a fri'nd because he
didn't think him handsome. Now, you're no monument,
in the way of beauty, yourself, Deerslayer, and yet you
wouldn't be so onreasonable as to become my inimy for
just saying so.”
“I'm as the Lord made me; and I wish to be accounted
no better, nor any worse. Good looks I may not have;
that is to say, to a degree that the light-minded and vain
crave; but I hope I'm not altogether without some ricommend
in the way of good conduct. There's few nobler
looking men to be seen than yourself, Hurry; and I know
that I am not to expect any to turn their eyes on me, when
such a one as you can be gazed on; but I do not know that
a hunter is less expart with the rifle, or less to be relied on
for food, because he doesn't wish to stop at every shining
water.”
Here Hurry burst into a fit of loud laughter; for, while
he was too reckless to care much about his own manifest
physical superiority, he was well aware of it, and, like most
men who derive an advantage from the accidents of birth,
or nature, he was apt to think complacently on the subject,
whenever it happened to cross his mind.
“No, no, Deerslayer, you're no beauty, as you will own
yourself, if you'll look over the side of the canoe,” he cried;
“Jude will say that to your face, if you start her, for a
parter tongue isn't to be found in any gal's head, in or out
of the settlements, if you provoke her to use it. My advice
to you, is never to aggravate Judith; though you may tell
any thing to Hetty, and she'll take it as meek as a lamb.
No, Jude will be just as like as not to tell you her opinion
consarning your looks.”
“And if she does, Hurry, she will tell me no more than
you have said already—”
“You're not thick'ning up about a small remark, I hope,
Deerslayer, when no harm is meant. You are not a beauty,
as you must know, and why shouldn't fri'nds tell each other
these little trifles? If you was handsome, or ever like to
be, I'd be one of the first to tell you of it; and that ought
to content you. Now, if Jude was to tell me that I'm as
ugly as a sinner, I'd take it as a sort of obligation, and try
not to believe her.”
“It's easy for them that natur' has favoured, to jest
about such matters, Hurry, though it is sometimes hard for
others. I'll not deny but I've had my cravings towards
good looks; yes, I have; but then I've always been able to
get them down by considering how many I've known with
fair outsides, who have had nothing to boast of inwardly.
I'll not deny, Hurry, that I often wish I'd been created
more comely to the eye, and more like such a one as yourself,
in them particulars; but then I get the feelin' under by
remembering how much better off I am, in a great many
respects, than some fellow-mortals. I might have been born
lame, and onfit, even for a squirrel hunt; or, blind, which
would have made me a burthen on myself, as well as on my
fri'nds; or, without hearing, which would have totally onqualified
forward to, as part of a man's duty in troublesome times.
Yes, yes; it's not pleasant, I will allow, to see them that's
more comely, and more sought after, and honoured than
yourself; but it may all be borne, if a man looks the evil in
the face, and don't mistake his gifts and his obligations.”
Hurry, in the main, was a good-hearted, as well as goodnatured
fellow; and the self-abasement of his companion
completely got the better of the passing feeling of personal
vanity. He regretted the allusion he had made to the other's
appearance, and endeavoured to express as much, though it
was done in the uncouth manner that belonged to the habits
and opinions of the frontier.
“I meant no harm, Deerslayer,” he answered, in a deprecating
manner, “and hope you'll forget what I've said.
If you're not downright handsome, you've a sartain look
that says, plainer than any words, that all's right within.
Then you set no valie by looks, and will the sooner forgive
any little slight to your appearance. I will not say
that Jude will greatly admire you, for that might raise
hopes that would only breed disapp'intment; but there's
Hetty, now, would be just as likely to find satisfaction in
looking at you, as in looking at any other man. Then
you're altogether too grave and considerate-like, to care
much about Judith; for, though the gal is oncommon, she
is so general in her admiration, that a man need not be
exalted, because she happens to smile. I sometimes think
the hussy loves herself better than she does any thing else
breathin'!”
“If she did, Hurry, she'd do no more, I'm afeard, than
most queens on their thrones, and ladies in the towns,” answered
Deerslayer, smiling, and turning back towards his
companion with every trace of feeling banished from his
honest-looking and frank countenance. “I never yet
know'd even a Delaware of whom you might not say that
much. But here is the end of the long p'int, you mentioned,
and the `Rat's Cove' can't be far off.”
This point, instead of thrusting itself forward, like all the
others, ran in a line with the main shore of the lake, which
here swept within it, in a deep and retired bay, circling round
south again, at the distance of a quarter of a mile, and crossed
In this bay Hurry felt almost certain of finding the ark,
since, anchored behind the trees that covered the narrow
strip of the point, it might have lain concealed from prying
eyes an entire summer. So complete, indeed, was the
cover, in this spot, that a boat hauled close to the beach,
within the point, and near the bottom of the bay, could by
possibility be seen from only one direction; and that was
from a densely-wooded shore, within the sweep of the water,
where strangers would be little apt to go.
“We shall soon see the ark,” said Hurry, as the canoe
glided round the extremity of the point, where the water was
so deep as actually to appear black; “he loves to burrow up
among the rushes, and we shall be in his nest in five minutes,
although the old fellow may be off among the traps, himself.”
March proved a false prophet. The canoe completely
doubled the point, so as to enable the two travellers to command
a view of the whole cove, or bay, for it was more properly
the last, and no object, but those that nature had
placed there, became visible. The placid water swept round
in a graceful curve, the rushes bent gently towards its surface,
and the trees overhung it as usual; but all lay in the
soothing and sublime solitude of a wilderness. The scene
was such as a poet, or an artist would have delighted in,
but it had no charm for Hurry Harry, who was burning
with impatience to get a sight of his light-minded beauty.
The motion of the canoe had been attended with little or
no noise, the frontier-men, habitually, getting accustomed
to caution, in most of their movements, and it now lay on
the glassy water appearing to float in air, partaking of the
breathing stillness that seemed to pervade the entire scene.
At this instant a dry stick was heard cracking on the narrow
strip of land, that concealed the bay from the open lake. Both
the adventurers started, and each extended a hand towards
his rifle, the weapon never being out of reach of the arm.
“'T was too heavy for any light creatur',” whispered
Hurry, “and it sounded like the tread of a man!”
“Not so—not so,” returned Deerslayer; “'t was, as you
say, too heavy for one, but it was too light for the other.
Put your paddle in the water, and send the canoe in, to that
be it a Mingo, or be it only a muskrat.”
As Hurry complied, Deerslayer was soon on the shore,
advancing into the thicket with a moccasin'd foot, and a caution
that prevented the least noise. In a minute he was in
the centre of the narrow strip of land, and moving slowly
down towards its end, the bushes rendering extreme watchfulness
necessary. Just as he reached the centre of the
thicket, the dried twigs cracked again, and the noise was
repeated, at short intervals, as if some creature having life,
walked slowly towards the point. Hurry heard these sounds
also, and, pushing the canoe off into the bay, he seized his
rifle to watch the result. A breathless minute succeeded, after
which a noble buck walked out of the thicket, proceeded
with a stately step to the sandy extremity of the point, and
began to slake his thirst from the water of the lake. Hurry
hesitated an instant; then raising his rifle hastily to his
shoulder, he took sight and fired. The effect of this sudden
interruption of the solemn stillness of such a scene, was
not its least striking peculiarity. The report of the weapon
had the usual sharp, short sound of the rifle; but, when a
few moments of silence had succeeded the sudden crack,
during which the noise was floating in air across the
water, it reached the rocks of the opposite mountain, where
the vibrations accumulated, and were rolled from cavity to
cavity for miles along the hills, seeming to awaken the sleeping
thunders of the woods. The buck merely shook his
head at the report of the rifle, and the whistling of the bullet,
for never before had he come in contact with man; but the
echoes of the hills awakened his distrust, and, leaping forward,
with his four legs drawn under his body, he fell at
once into deep water, and began to swim towards the foot
of the lake. Hurry shouted, and dashed forward in chase,
and for one or two minutes the water foamed around the
pursuer and the pursued. The former was dashing past the
point, when Deerslayer appeared on the sand, and signed to
him to return.
“'T was inconsiderate to pull a trigger afore we had reconn'itred
the shore, and made sartain that no inimies harboured
near it,” said the latter, as his companion slowly
and reluctantly complied. “This much I have l'arned from
though I've never yet been on a war-path. And, moreover,
venison can hardly be called in season, now, and we do not
want for food. They call me Deerslayer, I'll own; and
perhaps I desarve the name, in the way of understanding
the creatur's habits, as well as for sartainty in the aim; but
they can't accuse me of killing an animal when there is no
occasion for the meat, or the skin. I may be a slayer, it's
true, but I'm no slaughterer.”
“'T was an awful mistake to miss that buck!” exclaimed
Hurry, doffing his cap and running his fingers through his
handsome, but matted curls, as if he would loosen his
tangled ideas by the process; “I've not done so onhandy
a thing since I was fifteen.”
“Never lament it; the creatur's death could have done
neither of us any good, and might have done us harm.
Them echoes are more awful, in my ears, than your mistake,
Hurry; for they sound like the voice of natur' calling
out ag'in a wasteful and onthinking action.”
“You'll hear plenty of such calls, if you tarry long in
this quarter of the world, lad,” returned the other laughing.
“The echoes repeat pretty much all that is said or done on
the Glimmerglass, in this calm summer weather. If a paddle
falls, you hear of it, sometimes, ag'in and ag'in; as if the
hills were mocking your clumsiness; and a laugh, or a
whistle, comes out of them pines, when they're in the humour
to speak, in a way to make you believe they can
r'ally convarse.”
“So much the more reason for being prudent and silent.
I do not think the inimy can have found their way into
these hills yet, for I don't know what they are to gain by
it; but all the Delawares tell me, that as courage is a warrior's
first vartue, so is prudence his second. One such call,
from the mountains, is enough to let a whole tribe into the
secret of our arrival.”
“If it does no other good, it will warn old Tom to put
the pot over, and let him know visiters are at hand. Come,
lad; get into the canoe, and we will hunt the ark up, while
there is yet day.”
Deerslayer complied, and the canoe left the spot. Its
head was turned diagonally across the lake, pointing towards
the distance to the shore, or to the termination of the lake,
on the course the two were now steering, was not quite a
mile, and their progress being always swift, it was fast lessening,
under the skilful, but easy sweeps of the paddles.
When about half-way across, a slight noise drew the eyes
of the men towards the nearest land, and they saw that
the buck was just emerging from the lake, and wading towards
the beach. In a minute the noble animal shook the
water from his flanks, gazed upward at the covering of
trees, and, bounding against the bank, plunged into the
forest.
“That creatur' goes off with gratitude in his heart,” said
Deerslayer, “for natur' tells him he has escaped a great
danger. You ought to have some of the same feelins',
Hurry, to think your eye wasn't truer—that your hand
was onsteady, when no good could come of a shot that was
intended onmeaningly, rather than in reason.”
“I deny the eye and the hand,” cried March, with some
heat. “You've got a little character, down among the
Delawares, there, for quickness and sartainty, at a deer;
but I should like to see you behind one of them pines, and
a full-painted Mingo behind another, each with a cock'd
rifle, and a-striving for the chance! Them's the situations,
Nathaniel, to try the sight and the hand, for they begin with
trying the narves. I never look upon killing a creatur' as
an explite; but killing a savage is. The time will come to
try your hand, now we've got to blows ag'in, and we shall
soon know what a ven'son repitation can do in the field. I
deny that either hand or eye was onsteady; it was all a
miscalculation of the buck, which stood still when he ought
to have kept in motion, and so I shot ahead of him.”
“Have it your own way, Hurry; all I contend for is, that
it's lucky. I dare say I shall not pull upon a human mortal
as steadily, or with as light a heart, as I pull upon a
deer.”
“Who's talking of mortals, or of human beings at all,
Deerslayer? I put the matter to you on the supposition of
an Indian. I dare say any man would have his feelin's
when it got to be life, or death, ag'in another human mortal;
but there would be no such scruples in regard to an Indian;
your hitting him.”
“I look upon the red-men to be quite as human as
we are ourselves, Hurry. They have their gifts, and their
religion, it's true; but that makes no difference in the end,
when each will be judged according to his deeds, and not
according to his skin.”
“That's downright missionary, and will find little favour
up in this part of the country, where the Moravians don't
congregate. Now, skin makes the man. This is reason;
else how are people to judge of each other. The skin is
put on, over all, in order that when a creatur', or a mortal,
is fairly seen, you may know at once what to make of him.
You know a bear from a hog, by his skin, and a grey squirrel
from a black.”
“True, Hurry,” said the other, looking back and smiling,
“nevertheless, they are both squirrels.”
“Who denies it? But you'll not say that a red-man
and a white man are both Indians?”
“No; but I do say they are both men. Men of different
races and colours, and having different gifts and traditions,
but, in the main, with the same natur'. Both have
souls; and both will be held accountable for their deeds in
this life.”
Hurry was one of those theorists who believed in the inferiority
of all of the human race, who were not white. His
notions on the subject were not very clear, nor were his definitions
at all well settled; but his opinions were none the
less dogmatical, or fierce. His conscience accused him of
sundry lawless acts against the Indians, and he had found
it an exceedingly easy mode of quieting it, by putting the
whole family of red-men, incontinently, without the category
of human rights. Nothing angered him sooner, than to
deny his proposition, more especially if the denial were
accompanied by a show of plausible argument; and he did
not listen to his companion's remarks with much composure,
of either manner or feeling.
“You're a boy, Deerslayer, misled and misconsaited by
Delaware arts, and missionary ignorance,” he exclaimed,
with his usual indifference to the forms of speech, when
excited. “You may account yourself as a red-skin's brother,
about 'em, but cunning. That they have, I'll allow; but
so has a fox, or even a bear. I'm older than you, and have
lived longer in the woods—or, for that matter, have lived
always there, and am not to be told what an Indian is, or
what he is not. If you wish to be considered a savage,
you've only to say so, and I'll name you as such to Judith,
and the old man, and then we'll see how you'll like your
welcome.”
Here Hurry's imagination did his temper some service,
since, by conjuring up the reception his semi-aquatic acquaintance
would be likely to bestow on one thus introduced,
he burst into a hearty fit of laughter. Deerslayer too well
knew the uselessness of attempting to convince such a being
of any thing against his prejudices, to feel a desire to attempt
the task; and he was not sorry that the approach of
the canoe to the south-eastern curve of the lake, gave a new
direction to his ideas. They were now, indeed, quite near
the place that March had pointed out for the position of
the outlet, and both began to look for it with a curiosity that
was increased by the expectation of finding the ark.
It may strike the reader as a little singular, that the
place where a stream of any size passed through banks that
had an elevation of some twenty feet, should be a matter
of doubt with men who could not now have been more
than two hundred yards distant from the precise spot.
It will be recollected, however, that the trees and bushes
here, as elsewhere, fairly overhung the water, making such
a fringe to the lake, as to conceal any little variations from
its general outline.
“I've not been down at this end of the lake these two
summers,” said Hurry, standing up in the canoe, the better
to look about him. “Ay, there's the rock, showing its
chin above the water, and I know that the river begins in
its neighbourhood.”
The men now plied the paddles again, and they were presently
within a few yards of the rock, floating towards it,
though their efforts were suspended. This rock was not
large, being merely some five or six feet high, only half of
which elevation rose above the lake. The incessant washing
of the water, for centuries, had so rounded its summit,
more than usually regular and even. Hurry remarked, as
they floated slowly past, that this rock was well known to all
the Indians in that part of the country, and that they were in
the practice of using it as a mark, to designate the place
of meeting, when separated by their hunts and marches.
“And here is the river, Deerslayer,” he continued,
“though so shut in by trees and bushes, as to look more
like an and-bush, than the outlet of such a sheet as the Glimmerglass.”
Hurry had not badly described the place, which did truly
seem to be a stream lying in ambush. The high banks
might have been a hundred feet asunder; but, on the western
side, a small bit of low land extended so far forward, as
to diminish the breadth of the stream to half that width. As
the bushes hung in the water beneath, and pines that had
the stature of church-steeples, rose in tall columns above, all
inclining towards the light, until their branches intermingled,
the eye, at a little distance, could not easily detect any
opening in the shore, to mark the egress of the water. In
the forest above, no traces of this outlet were to be seen
from the lake, the whole presenting the same connected,
and seemingly interminable, carpet of leaves. As the canoe
slowly advanced, sucked in by the current, it entered beneath
an arch of trees, through which the light from the
heavens struggled by casual openings, faintly relieving the
gloom beneath.
“This is a nat'ral and-bush,” half whispered Hurry, as
if he felt that the place was devoted to secresy and watchfulness;
“depend on it, old Tom has burrowed with the
ark somewhere in this quarter. We will drop down with
the current, a short distance, and ferret him out.”
“This seems no place for a vessel of any size,” returned
the other; “it appears to me, that we shall have hardly
room enough for the canoe.”
Hurry laughed at this suggestion, and, as it soon appeared,
with reason; for, the fringe of bushes immediately
on the shore of the lake was no sooner passed, than the
adventurers found themselves in a narrow stream, of a sufficient
depth of limpid water, with a strong current, and a
canopy of leaves, upheld by arches composed of the limbs
left sufficient space between them to admit the passage of
any thing that did not exceed twenty feet in width, and to
allow of a perspective ahead of eight or ten times that distance.
Neither of our two adventurers used his paddle, except to
keep the light bark in the centre of the current, but both
watched each turning of the stream, of which there were
two or three within the first hundred yards, with jealous
vigilance. Turn after turn, however, was passed, and the
canoe had dropped down with the current some little distance,
when Hurry caught a bush, and arrested its movement,
so suddenly and silently, as to denote some unusual
motive for the act. Deerslayer laid his hand on the stock
of his rifle, as soon as he noted this proceeding; but it was
quite as much with a hunter's habit, as from any feeling of
alarm.
“There the old fellow is!” whispered Hurry, pointing
with a finger, and laughing heartily, though he carefully
avoided making a noise, “ratting it away, just as I supposed;
up to his knees in the mud and water, looking to the
traps and the bait. But, for the life of me, I can see nothing
of the ark; though I'll bet every skin I take this season,
Jude isn't trusting her pretty little feet in the neighbourhood
of that black mud. The gal's more likely to be braiding
her hair by the side of some spring, where she can see her
own good looks, and collect scornful feelings ag'in us men.”
“You over-judge young women—yes you do, Hurry—
who as often bethink them of their failings as they do of their
perfections. I dare to say, this Judith, now, is no such
admirer of herself, and no such scorner of our sex, as you
seem to think; and that she is quite as likely to be sarving
her father in the house, wherever that may be, as he is to
be sarving her among the traps.”
“It's a pleasure to hear truth from a man's tongue, if it
be only once in a girl's life,” cried a pleasant, rich, and yet
soft female voice, so near the canoe, as to make both the
listeners start. “As for you, Master Hurry, fair words are
so apt to choak you, that I no longer expect to hear them
from your mouth; the last you uttered sticking in your
throat, and coming near to death. But I'm glad to see you
how to esteem and treat women, are not ashamed to journey
in your company.”
As this was said, a singularly handsome and youthful
female face was thrust through an opening in the leaves,
within reach of Deerslayer's paddle. Its owner smiled
graciously on the young man; and the frown that she
cast on Hurry, though simulated and pettish, had the effect
to render her beauty more striking, by exhibiting the play
of an expressive, but capricious countenance; one that
seemed to change from the soft to the severe, the mirthful
to the reproving, with facility and indifference.
A second look explained the nature of the surprise. Unwittingly,
the men had dropped alongside of the ark, which
had been purposely concealed in bushes, cut and arranged for
the purpose; and Judith Hutter had merely pushed aside the
leaves that lay before a window, in order to show her face,
and speak to them.
| CHAPTER III. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path | |