Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) (28 page)

“Did you see her, chief—did you get a glimpse of her pleasant countenance, or come close enough to her ear to sing in it the song she loves to hear?”

“No, Deerslayer—the trees were too many, and leaves covered their boughs, like clouds hiding the heavens in a storm. But”—and the young warrior turned his dark face towards his friend, with a smile on it that illuminated its fierce-looking paint and naturally stern lineaments with a bright gleam of human feeling—“Chingachgook heard the laugh of Wah-ta-Wah; he knew it from the laugh of the women of the Iroquois. It sounded in his ears like the chirp of the wren.”

“Ay, trust a lovyer’s ear for that; and a Delaware’s ear for all sounds that are ever heard in the woods. I know not why it is so, Judith, but when young men—and I dare to say it may be all the same with young women too—but when they get to have kind feelin’s towards each other, it’s wonderful how pleasant the laugh or the speech becomes to the other person. I’ve seen grim warriors listening to the chattering and the laughing of young gals as if it was church music; such as is heard in the old Dutch church that stands in the great street of Albany, where I’ve been more than once, with peltry and game.”

“And you, Deerslayer,” said Judith quickly, and with more sensibility than marked her usually light and thoughtless manner; “have you never felt how pleasant it is to listen to the laugh of the girl you love?”

“Lord bless you, gal!—why I’ve never lived enough among my own color to drop into them sort of feelin‘s—no, never! I dare to say, they are nat’ral and right; but to me there’s no music so sweet as the sighing of the wind in the treetops, and the rippling of a stream from a full, sparkling, natyve fountain of pure fresh water; unless, indeed,” he continued, dropping his head for an instant in a thoughtful manner, “unless, indeed, it be the open mouth of a sartain hound, when I’m on the track of a fat buck. As for unsartain dogs, I care little for their cries, seein’ they are as likely to speak when the deer is not in sight as when it is.”

Judith walked slowly and pensively away, nor was there any of her ordinary calculating coquetry in the light tremulous sigh that, unconsciously to herself, arose to her lips. On the other hand, Hetty listened with guileless attention; though it struck her simple mind as singular that the young man should prefer the melody of the woods to the songs of girls, or even to the laugh of innocence and joy. Accustomed, however, to defer in most things to her sister, she soon followed Judith into the cabin, where she took a seat, and remained pondering intensely over some occurrence, or resolution, or opinion, which was a secret to all but herself. Left alone, Deerslayer and his friend resumed their discourse.

“Has the young paleface hunter been long on this lake?” demanded the Delaware, after courteously waiting for the other to speak first.

“Only since yesterday noon, Sarpent; though that has been long enough to see and do much.”

The gaze that the Indian fastened on his companion was so keen that it seemed to mock the gathering darkness of the night. As the other furtively returned his look, he saw the two black eyes glistening on him, like the balls of the panther, or those of the penned wolf. He understood the meaning of this glowing gaze, and answered evasively, as he fancied would best become the modesty of a white man’s gifts.

“‘Tis as you suspect, Sarpent; yes, ’tis somewhat thataway I have fell in with the inimy, and I suppose it may be said I’ve fou’t them, too.”

An exclamation of delight and exultation escaped the Indian; and then, laying his hand eagerly on the arm of his friend, he asked if there were any scalps taken.

“That I will maintain, in the face of all the Delaware tribe, old Tamenund,
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and your father, the great Uncas, as well as the rest, is ag’in white gifts! My scalp is on my head, as you can see, Sarpent, and that was the only scalp that was in danger, when one side was altogether Christian and white.”

“Did no warrior fall?—Deerslayer did not get his name by being slow of sight, or clumsy with the rifle!”

“In that particular, chief, you’re nearer reason, and therefore nearer being right. I may say one Mingo fell.”

“A chief!” demanded the other, with startling vehemence.

“Nay, that’s more than I know or can say. He was artful, and treacherous, and stout-hearted, and may well have gained popularity enough with his people to be named to that rank. The man fou’t well, though his eye wasn’t quick enough for one who had had his schooling in your company, Delaware.”

“My brother and friend struck the body?”

“That was uncalled for, seeing that the Mingo died in my arms. The truth may as well be said at once; he fou’t like a man of red gifts, and I fou’t like a man with gifts of my own color. God gave me the victory; I couldn’t fly in the face of his providence by forgetting my birth and natur’. White he made me, and white I shall live and die.”

“Good! Deerslayer is a paleface, and has paleface hands. A Delaware will look for the scalp, and hang it on a pole, and sing a song in his honor, when we go back to our people. The honor belongs to the tribe; it must not be lost.”

“This is easy talking, but ‘twill not be as easy doing. The Mingo’s body is in the hands of his fri’nds, and, no doubt, is hid in some hole, where Delaware cunning will never be able to get at his scalp.”

The young man then gave his friend a succinct, but clear account of the event of the morning, concealing nothing of any moment, and yet touching on everything modestly and with a careful attention to avoid the Indian habit of boasting. Chingachgook again expressed his satisfaction at the honor won by his friend, and then both arose, the hour having arrived when it became prudent to move the ark farther from the land.

It was now quite dark; the heavens having become clouded, and the stars hid. The north wind had ceased, as was usual, with the setting of the sun, and a light air arose from the south. This change favoring the design of Deerslayer, he lifted his grapnel, and the scow immediately and quite perceptibly began to drift more into the lake.

The sail was set, when the motion of the craft increased to a rate not much less than two miles in the hour. As this superseded the necessity of rowing—an occupation that an Indian would not be likely to desire—Deerslayer, Chingachgook, and Judith seated themselves in the stern of the scow, where the first governed its movements by holding the oar. Here they discoursed on their future movements, and on the means that ought to be used in order to effect the liberation of their friends.

In this dialogue Judith held a material part; the Delaware readily understanding all she said, while his own replies and remarks, both of which were few and pithy, were occasionally rendered into English by his friend. Judith rose greatly in the estimation of her companions, in the half hour that followed. Prompt of resolution and firm of purpose, her suggestions and expedients partook of her spirit and sagacity, both of which were of a character to find favor with men of the frontier. The events that had occurred since their meeting, as well as her isolated and dependent situation, induced the girl to feel towards Deerslayer like the friend of a year, instead of an acquaintance of a day; and so completely had she been won by his guileless truth of character and of feeling—pure novelties in our sex, as respected her own experience—that his peculiarities excited her curiosity, and created a confidence that had never been awakened by any other man. Hitherto she had been compelled to stand on the defensive in her intercourse with men—with what success was best known to herself; but here had she been suddenly thrown into the society, and under the protection of a youth, who evidently as little contemplated evil towards herself as if he had been her brother. The freshness of his integrity, the poetry and truth of his feelings, and even the quaintness of his forms of speech, all had their influence, and aided in awakening an interest that she found as pure as it was sudden and deep. Hurry’s fine face and manly form had never compensated for his boisterous and vulgar turn; and her intercourse with the officers had prepared her to make comparisons under which even his great natural advantages suffered. But this very intercourse with the officers who occasionally came upon the lake to fish and hunt, had an effect in producing her present sentiments towards the young stranger. With them, while her vanity had been gratified, and her self-love strongly awakened, she had many causes deeply to regret the acquaintance—if not to mourn over it in secret sorrow—for it was impossible for one of her quick intellect not to perceive how hollow was the association between superior and inferior, and that she was regarded as the plaything of an idle hour, rather than as an equal and a friend, by even the best intentioned and least designing of her scarlet-clad admirers. Deerslayer, on the other hand, had a window in his breast, through which the light of his honesty was ever shining; and even his indifference to charms that so rarely failed to produce a sensation piqued the pride of the girl, and gave him an interest that another, seemingly more favored by nature, might have failed to excite.

In this manner half an hour passed, during which time the ark had been slowly stealing over the water, the darkness thickening around it; though it was easy to see that the gloom of the forest at the southern end of the lake was getting to be distant, while the mountains that lined the sides of the beautiful basin were overshadowing it, nearly from side to side. There was, indeed, a narrow stripe of water, in the center of the lake, where the dim light that was still shed from the heavens fell upon its surface, in a line extending north and south; and along this faint tract—a sort of inverted milky way, in which the obscurity was not quite as dense as in other places—the scow held her course, he who steered well knowing that it led in the direction he wished to go. The reader is not to suppose, however, that any difficulty could exist as to the course. This would have been determined by that of the air, had it not been possible to distinguish the mountains, as well as by the dim opening to the south, which marked the position of the valley in that quarter, above the plain of tall trees, by a sort of lessened obscurity; the difference between the darkness of the forest, and that of the night, as seen only in the air. The peculiarities at length caught the attention of Judith and the Deerslayer, and the conversation ceased, to allow each to gaze at the solemn stillness and deep repose of nature.

“ ’Tis a gloomy night,” observed the girl, after a pause of several minutes. “I hope we may be able to find the castle.”

“Little fear of our missing that, if we keep this path, in the middle of the lake,” returned the young man. “Natur’ has made us a road here, and, dim as it is, there’ll be little difficulty in following it.”

“Do you hear nothing, Deerslayer? It seemed as if the water was stirring quite near us!”

“Sartainly something did move the water, oncommon like; it must have been a fish. Them creatur’s prey upon each other like men and animals on the land; one has leaped into the air, and fallen back hard into his own element. ‘Tis of little use, Judith, for any to strive to get out of their elements, since it’s natur’ to stay in ’em; and natur’ will have its way. Ha! that sounds like a paddle, used with more than common caution!”

At this moment the Delaware bent forward and pointed significantly into the boundary of gloom, as if some object had suddenly caught his eye. Both Deerslayer and Judith followed the direction of his gesture, and each got a view of a canoe at the same instant. The glimpse of this startling neighbor was dim, and, to eyes less practiced, it might have been uncertain; though to those in the ark, the object was evidently a canoe, with a single individual in it; the latter standing erect and paddling. How many lay concealed in its bottom, of course could not be known. Flight, by means of oars, from a bark canoe impelled by vigorous and skillful hands, was utterly impracticable, and each of the men seized his rifle in expectation of a conflict.

“I can easily bring down the paddler,” whispered Deerslayer, “but we’ll first hail him and ask his arr’nd.” Then raising his voice, he continued in a solemn manner, “Hold! If you come nearer I must fire, though contrary to my wishes, and then sartain death will follow. Stop paddling, and answer!”

“Fire, and slay a poor defenseless girl,” returned a soft, tremulous female voice, “and God will never forgive you! Go your way, Deerslayer, and let me go mine.”

“Hetty!” exclaimed the young man and Judith in a breath; and the former sprang instantly to the spot where he had left the canoe they had been towing. It was gone, and he understood the whole af fair. As for the fugitive, frightened at the menace, she ceased paddling, and remained dimly visible, resembling a spectral outline of a human form, standing on the water. At the next moment the sail was lowered to prevent the ark from passing the spot where the canoe lay. This last expedient, however, was not taken in time; for the momentum of so heavy a craft and the impulsion of the air soon set her by, bringing Hetty directly to windward, though still visible, as the change in the positions of the two boats now placed her in that species of milky way which has been mentioned.

“What can this mean, Judith?” demanded Deerslayer. “Why has your sister taken the canoe, and left us?”

“You know she is feebleminded, poor girl! and she has her own ideas of what ought to be done. She loves her father more than most children love their parents—and then—”

“Then what, girl? This is a trying moment; one in which truth must be spoken!”

Judith felt a generous and womanly regret at betraying her sister, and she hesitated ere she spoke again. But once more urged by Deerslayer, and conscious herself of all the risks the whole party was running by the indiscretion of Hetty, she could refrain no longer.

“Then I fear, poor, weak-minded Hetty has not been altogether able to see the vanity, and madness, and folly that lie hid behind the handsome face and fine form of Hurry Harry She talks of him in her sleep, and sometimes betrays the inclination in her waking moments.”