 | CHAPTER VIII. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path |  |
8. CHAPTER VIII.
The quiet life is in the dale below;
Who tread on ice shall slide against their willes;
They want not cares, that curious arts should know;
Who lives at ease and can content him so,
Is perfect wise, and sets us all to schoole;
Who hates this lore may well be called a foole.”
Churchyard.
The meeting between Deerslayer and his friends in the
ark was grave and anxious. The two Indians, in particular,
read in his manner that he was not a successful fugitive,
and a few sententious words sufficed to let them comprehend
the nature of what their friend had termed his
“furlough.” Chingachgook immediately became thoughtful;
while Hist, as usual, had no better mode of expressing
her sympathy than by those little attentions which mark the
affectionate manner of woman.
In a few minutes, however, something like a general plan
for the proceedings of the night was adopted, and, to the eye
of an uninstructed observer, things would be thought to
move in their ordinary train. It was now getting to be
and secure it in its ordinary berth. This decision was come
to, in some measure, on account of the fact that all the canoes
were again in the possession of their proper owners;
but principally, from the security that was created by the
representations of Deerslayer. He had examined the state
of things among the Hurons, and felt satisfied that they
meditated no further hostilities during the night, the loss
they had met having indisposed them to further exertions
for the moment. Then he had a proposition to make; the
object of his visit; and, if this were accepted, the war would
at once terminate between the parties; and it was improbable
that the Hurons would anticipate the failure of a project
on which their chiefs had apparently set their hearts, by
having recourse to violence previously to the return of their
messenger.
As soon as the ark was properly secured, the different
members of the party occupied themselves in their several
peculiar manners; haste in council, or in decision, no more
characterizing the proceedings of the border whites, than
it did those of their red neighbours. The women busied
themselves in preparations for the evening meal, sad and
silent, but ever attentive to the first wants of nature.
Hurry set about repairing his moccasins, by the light of a
blazing knot; Chingachgook seated himself in gloomy
thought; while Deerslayer proceeded, in a manner equally
free from affectation and concern, to examine “Killdeer,”
the rifle of Hutter, that has been already mentioned, and
which subsequently became so celebrated, in the hands of
the individual who was now examining its merits. The
piece was a little longer than usual, and had evidently been
turned out from the work-shop of some manufacturer of a superior
order. It had a few silver ornaments; though, on the
whole, it would have been deemed a plain piece by most
frontier men; its great merit consisting in the accuracy of
its bore, the perfection of the details, and the excellence of
the metal. Again and again did the hunter apply the breech
to his shoulder, and glance his eye along the sights, and as
often did he poise his body, and raise the weapon slowly, as
if about to catch an aim at a deer, in order to try the weight,
and to ascertain its fitness for quick and accurate firing.
with an earnestness and abstraction that would have been
found touching by any spectator who happened to know the
real situation of the man.
“'T is a glorious we'pon, Hurry!” Deerslayer at length
exclaimed, “and it may be thought a pity that it has fallen
into the hands of women. The hunters have told me of its
expl'ites; and by all I have heard, I should set it down as sartain
death in exper'enced hands. Hearken to the tick of this
lock—a wolf-trap hasn't a livelier spring; pan and cock
speak together, like two singing-masters undertaking a psalm
in meetin'. I never did see so true a bore, Hurry, that's
sartain!”
“Ay, Old Tom used to give the piece a character, though
he wasn't the man to particularize the ra'al natur' of any
sort of fire-arms, in practice,” returned March, passing the
deer's thongs through the moccasin with the coolness of a
cobbler. “He was no marksman, that we must all allow;
but he had his good p'ints, as well as his bad ones. I have
had hopes that Judith might consait the idee of giving Kill-deer
to me.”
“There's no saying what young women may do, that's
a truth, Hurry; and I suppose you're as likely to own the
rifle as another. Still, when things are so very near perfection,
it's a pity not to reach it entirely.”
“What do you mean by that?—Would not that piece
look as well on my shoulder, as on any man's?”
“As for looks, I say nothing. You are both good-looking,
and might make what is called a good-looking couple.
But the true p'int is as to conduct. More deer would fall in
one day, by that piece, in some men's hands, than would fall
in a week, in your'n, Hurry! I've seen you try;—you remember
the buck t'other day?”
“That buck was out of season; and who wishes to kill
venison out of season. I was merely trying to frighten the
creatur', and I think you will own that he was pretty well
skeared, at any rate.”
“Well, well, have it as you say. But this is a lordly
piece, and would make a steady hand and quick eye, the
King of the Woods!”
“Then keep it, Deerslayer, and become King of the
and whose eye was never long averted from the honest
countenance of the hunter. “It can never be in better hands
than it is, at this moment; there I hope it will remain these
fifty years.”
“Judith, you can't be in 'arnest!” exclaimed Deerslayer,
taken so much by surprise, as to betray more emotion than
it was usual for him to manifest on ordinary occasions.
“Such a gift would be fit for a ra'al king to make; yes, and
for a ra'al king to receive.”
“I never was more in earnest, in my life, Deerslayer;
and I am as much in earnest in the wish as in the gift.”
“Well, gal, well; we'll find time to talk of this ag'in.
You musn't be down-hearted, Hurry, for Judith is a sprightly
young woman, and she has a quick reason; she knows
that the credit of her father's rifle is safer in my hands, than
it can possibly be in your'n; and, therefore, you mustn't be
down-hearted. In other matters, more to your liking, too,
you'll find she'll give you the preference.”
Hurry growled out his dissatisfaction; but he was too intent
on quitting the lake, and in making his preparations, to
waste his breath on a subject of this nature. Shortly after,
the supper was ready; it was eaten in silence, as is so
much the habit of those who consider the table as merely a
place of animal refreshment. On this occasion, however,
sadness and thought contributed their share to the general
desire not to converse; for Deerslayer was so far an exception
to the usages of men of his cast, as not only to wish to
hold discourse on such occasions, but as often to create a
similar desire in his companions.
The meal ended, and the humble preparations removed,
the whole party assembled on the platform to heat the expected
intelligence from Deerslayer, on the subject of his
visit. It had been evident he was in no haste to make his
communications; but the feelings of Judith would no longer
admit of delay. Stools were brought from the ark and the
hut, and the whole six placed themselves in a circle, near
the door, watching each other's countenances, as best they
could, by the scanty means that were furnished by a lovely
starlight night. Along the shore, beneath the mountains,
lay the usual body of gloom; but in the broad lake no shadow
limpid element, that was just stirred enough by the evening
air to set them all in motion.
“Now, Deerslayer,” commenced Judith, whose impatience
resisted further restraint; “now, Deerslayer, tell us all the
Hurons have to say, and the reason why they have sent you
on parole, to make us some offer.”
“Furlough, Judith; furlough is the word; and it carries
the same meaning with a captyve at large as it does with a
soldier who has leave to quit his colours. In both cases the
word is past to come back: and now I remember to have
heard that's the ra'al signification, `furlough' meaning a
`word' passed for the doing of any thing, or the like.
Parole, I rather think, is Dutch, and has something to do
with the tattoos of the garrisons. But this makes no great
difference, since the vartue of a pledge lies in the idee, and
not in the word. Well, then, if the message must be given,
it must; and perhaps there is no use in putting it off.
Hurry will soon be wanting to set out on his journey to the
river, and the stars rise and set, just as if they cared for
neither Indian nor message. Ah's! me; 'tisn't a pleasant,
and I know it's a useless ar'n'd; but it must be told.”
“Harkee, Deerslayer,” put in Hurry, a little authoritatively;
“you're a sensible man in a hunt, and as good a fellow
on a march as a sixty-miler-a-day could wish to meet with;
but you're oncommon slow about messages, especially them
that you think won't be likely to be well received. When
a thing is to be told, why, tell it, and don't hang back like a
Yankee lawyer pretending he can't understand a Dutchman's
English, just to get a double fee out of him.”
“I understand you, Hurry, and well are you named tonight,
seeing you've no time to lose. But let us come at
once to the p'int, seeing that's the object of this council; for
council it may be called, though women have seats among
us. The simple fact is this. When the party came back
from the castle, the Mingos held a council, and bitter
thoughts were uppermost, as was plainly to be seen by their
gloomy faces. No one likes to be beaten, and a red-skin as
little as a pale-face. Well, when they had smoked upon it,
and made their speeches, and their council-fire had burnt
low, the matter came out. It seems the elders among 'em
wonderful obsarvant, them Mingos; that their worst inimies
must allow; but they consaited I was such a man;
and it isn't often—” added the hunter, with a pleasing consciousness
that his previous life justified this implicit reliance
on his good faith—“it isn't often they consait any thing so
good of a pale-face; but so they did with me, and therefore
they didn't hesitate to speak their minds, which is just this:
—You see the state of things. The lake and all on it, they
fancy, lie at their marcy. Thomas Hutter is deceased, and
as for Hurry, they've got the idee he has been near enough
to death to-day, not to wish to take another look at him this
summer. Therefore, they account all your forces as reduced
to Chingachgook and the two young women, and,
while they know the Delaware to be of a high race, and a
born warrior, they know he's now on his first war-path.
As for the gals, of course they set them down much as they
do women in gineral.”
“You mean that they despise us!” interrupted Judith,
with eyes that flashed so brightly as to be observed by all
present.
“That will be seen in the end. They hold that all on
the lake lies at their marcy, and, therefore, they send by
me this belt of wampum,” showing the article in question
to the Delaware as he spoke, “with these words:—Tell
the Sarpent, they say, that he has done well for a beginner;
he may now strike across the mountains, for his own villages,
and no one shall look for his trail. If he has found
a scalp, let him take it with him; the Huron braves have
hearts, and can feel for a young warrior who doesn't wish to
go home empty-handed. If he is nimble, he is welcome to
lead out a party in pursuit. Hist, howsever, must go back
to the Hurons; when she left them in the night, she
carried away, by mistake, that which doesn't belong to
her.”
“That can't be true!” said Hetty, earnestly. “Hist is no
such girl—but one that gives everybody his due—”
How much more she would have said, in remonstrance,
cannot be known, inasmuch as Hist, partly laughing, and
partly hiding her face in shame, put her own hand across
the speaker's mouth, in a way to check the words.
“You don't understand Mingo messages, poor Hetty,”
resumed Deerslayer, “which seldom mean what lies exactly
uppermost. Hist has brought away with her the inclinations
of a young Huron, and they want her back again,
that the poor young man may find them where he last saw
them! The Sarpent, they say, is too promising a young
warrior not to find as many wives as he wants, but this one
he cannot have. That's their meaning, and nothing else,
as I understand it.”
“They are very obliging and thoughtful, in supposing a
young woman can forget all her own inclinations in order
to let this unhappy youth find his!” said Judith, ironically;
though her manner became more bitter as she proceeded.
“I suppose a woman is a woman, let her colour be white or
red; and your chiefs know little of a woman's heart, Deerslayer,
if they think it can ever forgive when wronged, or
ever forget when it fairly loves.”
“I suppose that's pretty much the truth, with some women,
Judith, though I've known them that could do both.
The next message is to you. They say the Muskrat, as
they call your father, has dove to the bottom of the lake;
that he will never come up again, and that his young
will soon be in want of wigwams, if not of food. The
Huron huts, they think, are better than the huts of York;
they wish you to come and try them. Your colour is
white, they own, but they think young women who've lived
so long in the woods, would lose their way in the clearin's.
A great warrior among them has lately lost his wife, and he
would be glad to put the Wild Rose on her bench at his fireside.
As for the Feeble-Mind, she will always be honoured
and taken care of by red warriors. Your father's goods,
they think, ought to go to enrich the tribe; but your own
property, which is to include every thing of a female natur',
will go, like that of all wives, into the wigwam of the husband.
Moreover, they've lost a young maiden by violence,
lately, and 'twill take two pale-faces to fill her seat.”
“And do you bring such a message to me!” exclaimed
Judith, though the tone in which the words were uttered,
had more in it of sorrow than of anger. “Am I a girl to
be an Indian's slave?”
“If you wish my honest thoughts on this p'int, Judith, I
any man's slave, red-skin or white. You're not to think
hard, howsever, of my bringing the message, as near as I
could, in the very words in which it was given to me.
Them was the conditions on which I got my furlough, and
a bargain is a bargain, though it is made with a vagabond.
I've told you what they've said, but I've not yet told you
what I think you ought, one and all, to answer.”
“Ay; let's hear that, Deerslayer,” put in Hurry. “My
cur'osity is up on that consideration, and I should like right
well to hear your idees of the reasonableness of the reply.
For my part, though, my own mind is pretty much settled,
on the p'int of my own answer, which shall be made known
as soon as necessary.”
“And so is mine, Hurry, on all the different heads, and
on no one is it more sartainly settled than on your'n. If I
was you, I should say—`Deerslayer, tell them scamps, they
don't know Harry March! He is human; and having a
white skin, he has also a white natur', which natur' won't
let him desart females of his own race and gifts, in their
greatest need. So set me down as one that will refuse to
come into your treaty, though you should smoke a hogshead
of tobacco over it.' ”
March was a little embarrassed at this rebuke, which was
uttered with sufficient warmth of manner, and with a point
that left no doubt of the meaning. Had Judith encouraged
him, he would not have hesitated about remaining to defend
her and her sister, but under the circumstances, a feeling of
resentment rather urged him to abandon them. At all
events, there was not a sufficiency of chivalry in Hurry
Harry, to induce him to hazard the safety of his own person,
unless he could see a direct connection between the probable
consequences and his own interests. It is no wonder,
therefore, that his answer partook equally of his intention,
and of the reliance he so boastingly placed on his gigantic
strength, which if it did not always make him courageous,
usually made him impudent, as respects those with whom he
conversed.
“Fair words make long friendships, Master Deerslayer,”
he said, a little menacingly. “You're but a stripling, and,
you know by exper'ence, what you are in the hands of a
the savages to us Christians, you may tell your empl'yers
that they do know Harry March, which is a proof of their
sense, as well as his. He's human enough to follow human
natur', and that tells him to see the folly of one man's fighting
a whole tribe. If females desart him, they must expect
to be desarted by him, whether they're of his own gifts, or
another man's gifts. Should Judith see fit to change her
mind, she's welcome to my company to the river, and Hetty
with her; but shouldn't she come to this conclusion, I start
as soon as I think the enemy's scouts are beginning to nestle
themselves in among the brush and leaves, for the night.”
“Judith will not change her mind, and she does not ask
your company, Master March,” returned the girl, with spirit.
“That p'int's settled, then,” resumed Deerslayer, unmoved
by the other's warmth. “Hurry Harry must act for
himself, and do that which will be most likely to suit his own
fancy. The course he means to take will give him an easy
race, if it don't give him an easy conscience. Next comes
the question with Hist —what say you, gal? —will you desart
your duty, too, and go back to the Mingos and take a
Huron husband; and all, not for the love of the man you're
to marry, but for the love of your own scalp?”
“Why you talk so to Hist?” demanded the girl, half offended.
“You t'ink a red-skin girl made like captain's
lady, to laugh and joke with any officer that come.”
“What I think, Hist, is neither here nor there, in this
matter. I must carry back your answer, and in order to do
so, it is necessary that you should send it. A faithful messenger
gives his ar'n'd, word for word.”
Hist no longer hesitated to speak her mind fully. In the
excitement she rose from her bench, and naturally recurring
to that language in which she expressed herself the most
readily, she delivered her thoughts and intentions, beautifully
and with dignity, in the tongue of her own people.
“Tell the Hurons, Deerslayer,” she said, “that they are
as ignorant as moles; they don't know the wolf from the dog.
Among my people, the rose dies on the stem where it budded;
the tears of the child fall on the graves of its parents;
the corn grows where the seed has been planted. The
Delaware girls are not messengers, to be sent, like belts of
are sweetest in their own woods; their own young men
carry them away in their bosoms, because they are fragrant;
they are sweetest when plucked from their native
stems. Even the robin and the marten come back, year after
year, to their old nests; shall a woman be less true-hearted
than a bird? Set the pine in the clay, and it will turn yellow;
the willow will not flourish on the hill; the tamarack
is healthiest in the swamp; the tribes of the sea love best
to hear the winds that blow over the salt water. As
for a Huron youth, what is he to a maiden of the Lenni
Lenape? He may be fleet, but her eyes do not follow him
in the race; they look back towards the lodges of the Delawares.
He may sing a sweet song for the girls of Canada,
but there is no music for Wah, but in the tongue she has
listened to from childhood. Were the Huron born of the
people that once roamed the shores of the salt lake, it would
be in vain, unless he were of the family of Uncas. The
young pine will rise to be as high as any of its fathers.
Wah-ta!-Wah has but one heart, and it can love but one
husband.”
Deerslayer listened to this characteristic message, which
was given with an earnestness suited to the feelings from
which it sprung, with undisguised delight; meeting the ardent
eloquence of the girl, as she concluded, with one of his own
heart-felt, silent, and peculiar fits of laughter.
“That's worth all the wampum in the woods!” he exclaimed.
“You don't understand it, I suppose, Judith; but
if you'll look into your feelin's, and fancy that an inimy
had sent to tell you to give up the man of your choice, and
to take up with another that wasn't the man of your choice,
you'll get the substance of it, I'll warrant! Give me a
woman for ra'al eloquence, if they'll only make up their
minds to speak what they feel. By speakin', I don't mean
chatterin', howsever; for most of them will do that by the
hour; but comin' out with their honest, deepest feelin's, in
proper words. And now, Judith, having got the answer of
a red-skin girl, it is fit I should get that of a pale-face, if,
indeed, a countenance that is as blooming as your'n can in
any wise so be tarmed. You are well named the Wild Rose,
“Did this language come from one of the garrison gallants,
I should deride it, Deerslayer; but coming from you,
I know it can be depended on,” returned Judith, deeply gratified
by his unmeditated and characteristic compliments.
“It is too soon, however, to ask my answer; the Great
Serpent has not yet spoken.”
“The Serpent! Lord; I could carry back his speech
without hearing a word of it! I didn't think of putting the
question to him at all, I will allow; though 't would be
hardly right either, seeing that truth is truth, and I'm bound
to tell these Mingos the fact, and nothing else. So, Chingachgook,
let us hear your mind on this matter—are you
inclined to strike across the hills towards your village, to
give up Hist to a Huron, and to tell the chiefs at home, that
if they're actyve and successful they may possibly get on
the end of the Iroquois trail some two or three days after
the inimy has got off of it?”
Like his betrothed, the young chief arose, that his answer
might be given with due distinctness and dignity.
Hist had spoken with her hands crossed upon her bosom,
as if to suppress the emotions within; but the warrior
stretched an arm before him, with a calm energy that aided
in giving emphasis to his expressions.
“Wampum should be sent for wampum,” he said; “a
message must be answered by a message. Hear what the
Great Serpent of the Delawares has to say to the pretended
wolves from the great lakes, that are howling through our
woods. They are no wolves; they are dogs that have come
to get their tails and ears cropped by the hands of the Delawares.
They are good at stealing young women; bad
at keeping them. Chingachgook takes his own where he
finds it; he asks leave of no cur from the Canadas. If
he has a tender feeling in his heart, it is no business of the
Hurons. He tells it to her who most likes to know it;
he will not bellow it in the forest, for the ears of those that
only understand yells of terror. What passes in his lodge
is not for the chiefs of his own people to know; still less
for Mingo rogues—”
“Call 'em vagabonds, Sarpent,” interrupted Deerslayer,
vagabonds, which is a word easily intarpreted, and
the most hateful to all their ears, it's so true. Never fear
me; I'll give 'em your message, syllable for syllable, sneer
for sneer, idee for idee, scorn for scorn—and they desarve
no better at your hands.—Only call 'em vagabonds, once
or twice, and that will set the sap mounting in 'em, from
their lowest roots to the uppermost branches!”
“Still less for Mingo vagabonds!” resumed Chingachgook,
quite willingly complying with his friend's request.—
“Tell the Huron dogs to howl louder, if they wish a Delaware
to find them in the woods, where they burrow like
foxes, instead of hunting like warriors. When they had a
Delaware maiden in their camp, there was a reason for
hunting them up; now they will be forgotten, unless they
make a noise. Chingachgook don't like the trouble of
going to his villages for more warriors; he can strike their
run-away trail: unless they hide it under ground, he will
follow it to Canada, alone. He will keep Wah-ta!-Wah
with him to cook his game; they two will be Delawares
enough to scare all the Hurons back to their own country.”
“That's a grand despatch, as the officers call them
things!” cried Deerslayer; “ 't will set all the Huron blood
in motion; most particularly that part where he tells 'em
Hist, too, will keep on their heels, till they're fairly driven
out of the country. Ah's! me; big words ar'n't always big
deeds, notwithstanding! The Lord send that we be able to
be only one half as good as we promise to be! And now,
Judith, it's your turn to speak, for them miscreants will
expect an answer from each person, poor Hetty, perhaps,
excepted.”
“And why not Hetty, Deerslayer? She often speaks to
the purpose; the Indians may respect her words, for they
feel for people in her condition.”
“That is true, Judith, and quick-thoughted in you. The
red-skins do respect misfortunes of all kinds, and Hetty's,
in particular. So, Hetty, if you have any thing to say, I'll
carry it to the Hurons as faithfully as if it was spoken by a
schoolmaster, or a missionary.”
The girl hesitated a moment, and then she answered in
preceded her.
“The Hurons can't understand the difference between
white people and themselves,” she said, “or they wouldn't
ask Judith and me to go and live in their villages. God
has given one country to the red men, and another to us.
He meant us to live apart. Then mother always said that
we should never dwell with any but Christians, if possible,
and that is a reason why we can't go. This lake is ours,
and we won't leave it. Father and mother's graves are in
it, and even the worst Indians love to stay near the graves
of their fathers. I will come and see them again, if they
wish me to, and read more out of the bible to them, but I
can't quit father's and mother's graves.”
“That will do—that will do, Hetty, just as well as if you
sent them a message twice as long,” interrupted the hunter.
“I'll tell 'em all you've said, and all you mean, and I'll
answer for it, that they'll be easily satisfied. Now, Judith,
your turn comes next, and then this part of my ar'n'd will
be tarminated, for the night.”
Judith manifested a reluctance to give her reply, that had
awakened a little curiosity in the messenger. Judging from
her known spirit, he had never supposed the girl would be
less true to her feelings and principles than Hist, or Hetty;
and yet there was a visible wavering of purpose that rendered
him slightly uneasy. Even now when directly required
to speak, she seemed to hesitate; nor did she open
her lips, until the profound silence told her how anxiously
her words were expected. Then, indeed, she spoke, but it
was doubtingly and with reluctance.
“Tell me, first—tell us, first, Deerslayer,” she commenced,
repeating the words merely to change the emphasis
—“what effect will our answers have on your fate? If
you are to be the sacrifice of our spirit, it would have been
better had we all been more wary as to the language we
use. What, then, are likely to be the consequences to
yourself?”
“Lord, Judith, you might as well ask me which way the
wind will blow next week, or what will be the age of the
next deer that will be shot! I can only say that their faces
look a little dark upon me, but it doesn't thunder every time
rain. That's a question, therefore, much more easily put
than answered.”
“So is this message of the Iroquois to me,” answered
Judith, rising, as if she had determined on her own course
for the present. “My answer shall be given, Deerslayer,
after you and I have talked together alone, when the others
have laid themselves down for the night.”
There was a decision in the manner of the girl, that disposed
Deerslayer to comply, and this he did the more readily
as the delay could produce no material consequences, one
way or the other. The meeting now broke up, Hurry
announcing his resolution to leave them speedily. During
the hour that was suffered to intervene, in order that the
darkness might deepen, before the frontier-man took his
departure, the different individuals occupied themselves in
their customary modes, the hunter, in particular, passing
most of the time in making further inquiries into the perfection
of the rifle already mentioned.
The hour of nine soon arrived, however, and then it had
been determined that Hurry should commence his journey.
Instead of making his adieus frankly, and in a generous
spirit, the little he thought it necessary to say was uttered
sullenly and in coldness. Resentment at what he considered
Judith's obstinacy, was blended with mortification at
the career he had run, since reaching the lake; and, as is
usual with the vulgar and narrow-minded, he was more disposed
to reproach others with his failures, than to censure
himself. Judith gave him her hand, but it was quite as
much in gladness as with regret, while the two Delawares
were not sorry to find he was leaving them. Of the whole
party, Hetty alone betrayed any real feeling. Bashfulness,
and the timidity of her sex and character, kept even her
aloof, so that Hurry entered the canoe, where Deerslayer
was already waiting for him, before she ventured near
enough to be observed. Then, indeed, the girl came into
the ark, and approached its end just as the little bark was
turning from it, with a movement so light and steady as to
be almost imperceptible. An impulse of feeling now overcame
her timidity, and Hetty spoke.
“Good bye, Hurry”—she called out in her sweet voice
woods, and don't stop once 'till you reach the garrison.
The leaves on the trees are scarcely plentier than the Hurons
round the lake, and they'd not treat a strong man like
you, as kindly as they treat me.”
The ascendency which March had obtained over this feeble-minded,
but right-thinking, and right-feeling girl, arose
from a law of nature. Her senses had been captivated by
his personal advantages; and her moral communications
with him had never been sufficiently intimate to counteract
an effect that must have been otherwise lessened, even with
one whose mind was as obtuse as her own. Hetty's instinct
of right, if such a term can be applied to one who seemed
taught by some kind spirit how to steer her course with unerring
accuracy between good and evil, would have revolted
at Hurry's character, on a thousand points, had there
been opportunities to enlighten her; but while he conversed
and trifled with her sister, at a distance from herself, his
perfection of form and feature had been left to produce their
influence on her simple imagination, and naturally tender
feelings, without suffering by the alloy of his opinions and
coarseness. It is true, she found him rough and rude; but
her father was that, and most of the other men she had
seen; and that which she believed to belong to all of the sex,
struck her less unfavourably in Hurry's character, than it
might otherwise have done. Still, it was not absolutely love
that Hetty felt for Hurry, nor do we wish so to portray it,
but merely that awakening sensibility and admiration, which,
under more propitious circumstances, and always supposing
no untoward revelations of character, on the part of the
young man, had supervened to prevent it, might soon have
ripened into that engrossing feeling. She felt for him an
incipient tenderness, but scarcely any passion. Perhaps the
nearest approach to the latter that Hetty had manifested,
was to be seen in the sensitiveness which had caused her to
detect March's predilection for her sister; for, among Judith's
many admirers, this was the only instance in which the
dull mind of the girl had been quickened into an observation
of the circumstance.
Hurry received so little sympathy at his departure, that
the gentle tones of Hetty, as she thus called after him, sounded
of his powerful arm brought it back to the side of the ark.
This was more than Hetty, whose courage had risen with
the departure of her hero, had expected, and she now shrunk
timidly back at his unexpected return.
“You're a good gal, Hetty, and I can't quit you without
shaking hands,” said March kindly. “Judith, after all,
isn't worth as much as you, though she may be a trifle better-looking.
As to wits, if honesty and fair-dealing with a
young man is a sign of sense in a young woman, you're
worth a dozen Judiths; ay, and for that matter, most young
women of my acquaintance.”
“Don't say any thing against Judith, Harry,” returned
Hetty imploringly. “Father's gone, and mother's gone,
and nobody's left but Judith and me, and it isn't right for
sisters to speak evil, or to hear evil, of each other. Father's
in the lake, and so is mother, and we should all fear
God, for we don't know when we may be in the lake, too.”
“That sounds reasonable, child, as does most you say.
Well, if we ever meet ag'in, Hetty, you'd find a fri'nd in
me, let your sister do what she may. I was no great fri'nd
of your mother, I'll allow, for we didn't think alike on most
p'ints; but then your father, Old Tom, and I, fitted each
other as remarkably as a buckskin garment will fit any reasonable-built
man. I've always been unanimous of opinion
that old Floating Tom Hutter, at the bottom, was a good
fellow, and will maintain that ag'in all inimies for his sake,
as well as for your'n.”
“Good bye, Hurry,” said Hetty, who now wanted to
hasten the young man off, as ardently as she had wished to
keep him only the moment before, though she could give no
clearer account of the latter than of the former feeling;
“good bye, Hurry; take care of yourself in the woods;
don't halt till you reach the garrison. I'll read a chapter
in the bible for you, before I go to bed, and think of you in
my prayers.”
This was touching a point on which March had no sympathies,
and without more words, he shook the girl cordially
by the hand, and re-entered the canoe. In another minute
the two adventurers were a hundred feet from the ark, and
half a dozen had not elapsed before they were completely
and Hist.
For some time Deerslayer and his companion paddled
ahead in silence. It had been determined to land Hurry at
the precise point where he is represented, in the commencement
of our tale, as having embarked; not only as a place
little likely to be watched by the Hurons, but because he
was sufficiently familiar with the signs of the woods, at that
spot, to thread his way through them in the dark. Thither,
then, the light craft proceeded, being urged as diligently,
and as swiftly, as two vigorous and skilful canoe-men could
force their little vessel through, or rather over, the water.
Less than s quarter of an hour sufficed for the object; and,
at the end of that time, being within the shadows of the
shore, and quite near the point they sought, each ceased his
efforts in order to make their parting communications out
of ear-shot of any straggler who might happen to be in the
neighbourhood.
“You will do well to persuade the officers at the garrison
to lead out a party ag'in these vagabonds, as soon as you
git in, Hurry,” Deerslayer commenced; “and you'll do
better if you volunteer to guide it up yourself. You know
the paths, and the shape of the lake, and the natur' of the
land, and can do it better than a common, gineralizing scout.
Strike at the Huron camp first, and follow the signs that
will then show themselves. A few looks at the hut and the
ark will satisfy you as to the state of the Delaware and the
women; and, at any rate, there'll be a fine opportunity to
fall on the Mingo trail, and to make a mark on the memories
of the blackguards that they'll be apt to carry with
'em a long time. It won't be likely to make much difference
with me, since that matter will be detarmined afore to-morrow's
sun has set; but it may make a great change in
Judith and Hetty's hopes and prospects!”
“And as for yourself, Nathaniel,” Hurry inquired with
more interest than he was accustomed to betray in the welfare
of others—“and as for yourself, what do you think is
likely to turn up?”
“The Lord, in his wisdom, only can tell, Henry March!
The clouds look black and threatening, and I keep my mind
in a state to meet the worst. Vengeful feelin's are uppermost
about the plunder, or the prisoners, or Hist, may make
the torments sartain. The Lord, in his wisdom, can only
detarmine my fate, or your'n!”
“This is a black business, and ought to be put a stop to,
in some way or other,” answered Hurry, confounding the
distinctions between right and wrong, as is usual with selfish
and vulgar men. “I heartily wish old Hutter and I had
scalped every creatur' in their camp, the night we first
landed with that capital object! Had you not held back,
Deerslayer, it might have been done; then you wouldn't
have found yourself, at the last moment, in the desperate
condition you mention.”
“'T would have been better had you said, you wished
you had never attempted to do what it little becomes any
white man's gifts to undertake; in which case, not only
might we have kept from coming to blows, but Thomas
Hutter would now have been living, and the hearts of the
savages would be less given to vengeance. The death of
that young woman, too, was oncalled for, Henry March,
and leaves a heavy load on our names, if not on our consciences!”
This was so apparent, and it seemed so obvious to Hurry
himself, at the moment, that he dashed his paddle into the
water, and began to urge the canoe towards the shore, as if
bent only on running away from his own lively remorse.
His companion humoured this feverish desire for change,
and, in a minute or two, the bows of the boat grated lightly
on the shingle of the beach. To land, shoulder his pack
and rifle, and to get ready for his march, occupied Hurry
but an instant, and with a growling adieu, he had already
commenced his march, when a sudden twinge of feeling
brought him to a dead stop, and immediately after to the
other's side.
“You cannot mean to give yourself up ag'in to them murdering
savages, Deerslayer!” he said, quite as much in angry
remonstrance as with generous feeling. “'T would be the
act of a madman or a fool!”
“There's them that thinks it madness to keep their
words, and there's them that don't, Hurry Harry. You
may be one of the first, but I'm one of the last. No red-skin
Mingo minds his word more than a man of white blood and
white gifts, in any thing that consarns me. I'm out on a
furlough, and if I've strength and reason, I'll go in on a
furlough afore noon to-morrow!”
“What's an Indian, or a word passed, or a furlough
taken from creatur's like them, that have neither souls, nor
names?”
“If they've got neither souls nor names, you and I have
both, Harry March, and one is accountable for the other.
This furlough is not, as you seem to think, a matter altogether
atween me and the Mingos, seeing it is a solemn bargain
made atween me and God. He who thinks that he can
say what he pleases, in his distress, and that 'twill all pass
for nothing, because 'tis uttered in the forest, and into red
men's ears, knows little of his situation, and hopes, and
wants. The words are said to the ears of the Almighty.
The air is his breath, and the light of the sun is little more
than a glance of his eye. Farewell, Harry; we may not
meet ag'in; but I would wish you never to treat a furlough,
or any other solemn thing, that your Christian God has
been called on to witness, as a duty so light that it may be
forgotten according to the wants of the body, or even according
to the cravings of the spirit.”
March was now glad again to escape. It was quite impossible
that he could enter into the sentiments that ennobled
his companion, and he broke away from both with an impatience
that caused him secretly to curse the folly that
could induce a man to rush, as it were, on his own destruction.
Deerslayer, on the contrary, manifested no such excitement.
Sustained by his principles, inflexible in the purpose
of acting up to them, and superior to any unmanly
apprehension, he regarded all before him as a matter of
course, and no more thought of making any unworthy attempt
to avoid it, than a Mussulman thinks of counteracting
the decrees of Providence. He stood calmly on the shore,
listening to the reckless tread with which Hurry betrayed
his progress through the bushes, shook his head in dissatisfaction
at the want of caution, and then stepped quietly into
his canoe. Before he dropped the paddle again into the
water, the young man gazed about him at the scene presented
had first laid his eyes on the beautiful sheet of water on which
he floated. If it was then glorious in the bright light of summer's
noon-tide, it was now sad and melancholy under the
shadows of night. The mountains rose around it, like black
barriers to exclude the outer world, and the gleams of pale
light that rested on the broader parts of the basin, were no
bad symbols of the faintness of the hopes that were so dimly
visible in his own future. Sighing heavily, he pushed the
canoe from the land, and took his way back, with steady
diligence, towards the ark and the castle.
| CHAPTER VIII. The deerslayer: or, The first war-path | |