Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) (63 page)

“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 ex-per’ ence, what you are in the hands of a man. As you’re not me, but only a go-between, sent by 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 redskin 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 arr’nd 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 wampum, from tribe to tribe. They are honeysuckles, that 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 martin 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 sprang, with undisguised delight; meeting the ardent eloquence of the girl, as she concluded, with one of his own heartfelt, 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 ch’ice, and to take up with another that wasn’t the man of your ch‘ice, 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 redskin girl, it is fit I should get that of a paleface, 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, and so far as color goes, Hetty ought to be called the Honeysuckle.”

“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 Sarpent? 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 ‘twould 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 a’ter 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, unable to restrain his delight—“yes, just call ’em up-and-down 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 runaway trail; unless they hide it underground, 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 dispatch, as the officers call them things!” cried Deerslayer; “ ’twill 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 aren’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 redskins do respect misfortunes of all kinds, and Hetty’s in particular. So, Hetty, if you have anything 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 her own gentle, soft tones, as earnestly as any who had 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 redmen and another to us. He means 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’s 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 arr’nd 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, 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 the 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 a black cloud rises, nor does every puff of wind blow up 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 frontierman 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.