Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) (71 page)

“That’s it; that’s just it, my good Hetty. We can see our faults and mistakes when it’s too late to help them! Howsever, I’m glad you didn’t speak, for I don’t think a word or two would have stopped me just at that moment; and so the sin stands in its nakedness, and not aggravated by any unheeded calls to forbear. Well, well, bitter thoughts are hard to be borne at all times, but there’s times when they’re harder than at others.”

Little did Deerslayer know, while thus indulging in feelings that were natural to the man, and so strictly in accordance with his own unsophisticated and just principles, that, in the course of the inscrutable Providence which so uniformly and yet so mysteriously covers all events with its mantle, the very fault he was disposed so severely to censure, was to be made the means of determining his own earthly fate. The mode and the moment in which he was to feel the influence of this interference, it would be premature to relate, but both will appear in the course of the succeeding chapters. As for the young man, he now slowly left the ark, like one sorrowing for his misdeeds, and seated himself in silence on the platform. By this time the sun had ascended to some height, and its appearance, taken in connection with his present feelings, induced him to prepare to depart. The Delaware got the canoe ready for his friend as soon as apprised of his intention, while Hist busied herself in making the few arrangements that were thought necessary to his comfort. All this was done without ostentation, but in a way that left Deerslayer fully acquainted with, and equally disposed to appreciate the motive. When all was ready, both returned to the side of Judith and Hetty—neither of whom had moved from the spot where the young hunter sat.

“The best fri‘nds must often part,” the last began, when he saw the whole party grouped around him. “Yes, fri’ndship can’t alter the ways of Providence; and let our feelin’s be as they may, we must part. I’ve often thought there’s moments when our words dwell longer on the mind than common, and when advice is remembered, just because the mouth that gives it isn’t likely to give it ag‘in. No one knows what will happen in the world; and therefore it may be well, when fri’nds separate under a likelihood that the parting may be long, to say a few words in kindness, as a sort of keepsakes. If all but one will go into the ark, I’ll talk to each in turn, and what is more, I’ll listen to what you may have to say back ag’in; for it’s a poor counselor that won’t take as well as give.”

As the meaning of the speaker was understood, the two Indians immediately withdrew as desired, leaving the sisters, however, still standing at the young man’s side. A look of Deerslayer’s induced Judith to explain.

“You can advise Hetty as you land,” she said, hastily; “I intend that she shall accompany you to the shore.”

“Is this wise, Judith? It’s true that, under common sarcumstances, a feeble mind is a great protection among redskins; but when their feelin’s are up, and they’re bent on revenge, it’s hard to say what may come to pass. Besides—”

“What were you about to say, Deerslayer?” asked Judith, whose gentleness of voice and manner amounted nearly to tenderness, though she struggled hard to keep her emotions and apprehensions in subjection.

“Why, simply that there are sights and doin’s that one even as little gifted with reason and memory as Hetty, here, might better not witness. So, Judith, you would do well to let me land alone, and to keep your sister back.”

“Never fear for me, Deerslayer,” put in Hetty, who comprehended enough of the discourse to know its general drift; “I’m feebleminded, and that, they say, is an excuse for going anywhere; and what that won’t excuse will be overlooked on account of the Bible I always carry. It is wonderful, Judith, how all sorts of men, the trappers as well as the hunters, redmen as well as white, Mingos as well as Delawares, do reverence and fear the Bible!”

“I think you have not the least ground to fear any injury, Hetty,” answered the sister, “and therefore I shall insist on your going to the Huron camp with our friend. Your being there can do no harm, not even to yourself, and may do great good to Deerslayer.”

“This is not a moment, Judith, to dispute; and so have the matter your own way,” returned the young man. “Get yourself ready, Hetty, and go into the canoe, for I’ve a few parting words to say to your sister, which can do you no good.”

Judith and her companion continued silent, until Hetty had so far complied as to leave them alone, when Deerslayer took up the subject as if it had been interrupted by some ordinary occurrence, and in a very matter-of-fact way.

“Words spoke at parting, and which may be the last we ever hear from a fri‘nd, are not soon forgotten,” he repeated, “and so, Judith, I intend to speak to you like a brother, seein’ I’m not old enough to be your father. In the first place, I wish to caution you ag’in your inimies, of which two may be said to ha‘nt your very footsteps, and to beset your ways. The first is oncommon good looks, which is as dangerous a foe to some young women as a whole tribe of Mingos could prove, and which calls for great watchfulness; not to admire and praise; but to distrust and sarcumvent. Yes, good looks may be sarcumvented, and fairly outwitted, too. In order to do this, you’ve only to remember that they melt like the snows; and, when once gone, they never come back ag’in. The seasons come and go, Judith; and if we have winter, with storms and frosts, and spring, with chills and leafless trees, we have summer, with its sun and glorious skies, and fall, with its fruits, and a garment thrown over the forest that no beauty of the town could rummage out of all the shops in America. ‘Arth is an eternal round, the goodness of God bringing back the pleasant when we’ve had enough of the onpleasant. But it’s not so with good looks. They are lent for a short time in youth, to be used and not abused; and as I never met with a young woman to whom Providence has been as bountiful as it has to you, Judith, in this par-tic’ lar, I warn you, as it might be with my dyin’ breath, to beware of the inimy; fri’nd or inimy, as we deal with the gift.”

It was so grateful to Judith to hear these unequivocal admissions of her personal charms, that much would have been forgiven to the man who made them, let him be who he might. But, at that moment, and from a far better feeling, it would not have been easy for Deerslayer seriously to offend her; and she listened with a patience which, had it been foretold only a week earlier, would have excited her indignation to hear.

“I understand your meaning, Deerslayer,” returned the girl, with a meekness and humility that a little surprised her listener, “and hope to be able to profit by it. But you have mentioned only one of the enemies I have to fear; who, or what, is the other?”

“The other is givin’ way afore your own good sense and judgment, I find, Judith; yes, he’s not as dangerous as I supposed. Howsever, havin’ opened the subject, it will be as well to end it honestly. The first inimy you have to be watchful of, as I’ve already told you, Judith, is oncommon good looks, and the next is an oncommon knowledge of the sarcumstance. If the first is bad, the last doesn’t in any way mend the matter, so far as safety and peace of mind are consarned.”

How much longer the young man would have gone on in his simple and unsuspecting, but well-intentioned manner, it might not be easy to say, had he not been interrupted by his listener’s bursting into tears, and giving way to an outbreak of feeling, which was so much the more violent from the fact that it had been with so much difficulty suppressed. At first her sobs were so violent and uncontrollable that Deerslayer was a little appalled, and he was abundantly repentant from the instant that he discovered how much greater was the effect produced by his words than he had anticipated. Even the austere and exacting are usually appeased by the signs of contrition, but the nature of Deerslayer did not require proofs of intense feeling so strong, in order to bring him down to a level with the regrets felt by the girl herself. He arose as if an adder had stung him, and the accents of the mother that soothes her child were scarcely more gentle and winning than the tones of his voice, as he now expressed his contrition at having gone so far.

“It was well meant, Judith,” he said, “but it was not intended to hurt your feelin’s so much. I have overdone the advice, I see; yes, I’ve overdone it, and I crave your pardon for the same. Fri‘ndship’s an awful thing! Sometimes it chides us for not having done enough; and then ag’in it speaks in strong words for havin’ done too much. Howsever, I acknowledge I’ve overdone the matter, and as I’ve a ra‘al and strong regard for you, I rej’ice to say it, inasmuch as it proves how much better you are than my own vanity and consaits had made you out to be.”

Judith now moved her hands from her face, her tears had ceased, and she unveiled a countenance so winning, with the smile which rendered it even radiant, that the young man gazed at her for a moment with speechless delight.

“Say no more, Deerslayer,” she hastily interposed, “it pains me to hear you find fault with yourself. I know my own weakness all the better, now I see that you have discovered it; the lesson, bitter as I have found it for a moment, shall not be forgotten. We will not talk any longer of these things, I do not feel myself brave enough for the undertaking, and I should not like the Delawares, or Hist, or even Hetty, to notice my weakness. Farewell, Deerslayer; may God bless and protect you as your honest heart deserves blessing and protection, and as I must think he will.”

Judith had so far regained the superiority that properly belonged to her better education, high spirit, and surpassing personal advantages, as to preserve the ascendency she had thus accidentally obtained, and effectually prevented any return to the subject that was as singularly interrupted as it had been singularly introduced. The young man permitted her to have everything her own way, and when she pressed his hard hand in both her own, he made no resistance, but submitted to the homage as quietly, and with quite as matter of course a manner, as a sovereign would have received a similar tribute from a subject, or the mistress from her suitor. Feeling had flushed the face and illuminated the whole countenance of the girl, and her beauty was never more resplendent than when she cast a parting glance at the youth. That glance was filled with anxiety, interest, and gentle pity. At the next instant she darted into the hut and was seen no more; though she spoke to Hist from a window, to inform her that their friend expected her appearance.

“You know enough of redskin natur’ and redskin usages, Wah-ta-Wah, to see the condition I am in on account of this furlough,” commenced the hunter, in Delaware, as soon as the patient and submissive girl of that people had moved quietly to his side; “you will therefore best understand how unlikely I am ever to talk with you ag‘in. I’ve but little to say; but that little comes from long livin’ among your people, and from havin’ obsarved and noted their usages. The life of a woman is hard at the best, but, I must own, though I’m not opinionated in favor of my own color, that it is harder among the redmen than it is among the palefaces. This is a point on which Christians may well boast, if boasting can be set down for Christianity in any manner or form, which I rather think it cannot. Howsever, all women have their trials. Red women have their’n in what I should call the nat’ral way, while white women take ‘em inoculated like. Bear your burden, Hist, becomingly, and remember, if it be a little toilsome, how much lighter it is than that of most Indian women. I know the Sarpent well—what I call cordially—and he will never be a tyrant to anything he loves, though he will expect to be treated himself like a Mohican chief. There will be cloudy days in your lodge, I suppose, for they happen under all usages, and among all people; but, by keepin’ the windows of the heart open, there will always be room for the sunshine to enter. You come of a great stock yourself, and so does Chingachgook. It’s not very likely that either will ever forget the sarcumstance, and do anything to disgrace your forefathers. Nevertheless, likin’ is a tender plant, and never thrives long when watered with tears. Let the ’arth around your married happiness be moistened by the dews of kindness.”

“My pale brother is very wise; Wah will keep in her mind all that his wisdom tells her.”

“That’s judicious and womanly, Hist. Care in listening, and stoutheartedness in holding to good counsel, is a wife’s great protection. And, now, ask the Sarpent to come and speak with me, for a moment, and carry away with you all my best wishes and prayers. I shall think of you, Hist, and of your intended husband, let what may come to pass, and always wish you well, here and hereafter, whether the last is to be according to Indian idees or Christian doctrines.”

Hist shed no tears at parting. She was sustained by the high resolution of one who had decided on her course; but her dark eyes were luminous with the feelings that glowed within, and her pretty countenance beamed with an expression of determination that was in marked and singular contrast to its ordinary gentleness. It was but a minute ere the Delaware advanced to the side of his friend with the light, noiseless tread of an Indian.

“Come thisaway, Sarpent, here more out of sight of the women,” commenced the Deerslayer, “for I’ve several things to say that mustn’t so much as be suspected, much less overheard. You know too well the natur’ of furloughs and Mingos to have any doubts or misgivin’s consarnin’ what is likely to happen, when I get back to the camp. On them two p‘ints, therefore, a few words will go a great way. In the first place, chief, I wish to say a little about Hist, and the manner in which you redmen treat your wives. I suppose it’s accordin’ to the gifts of your people that the women should work, and the men hunt; but there’s such a thing as moderation in all matters. As for huntin’, I see no good reason why any limits need be set to that, but Hist comes of too good a stock to toil like a common drudge. One of your means and standin’ need never want for corn, or potatoes, or anything that the fields yield; therefore, I hope the hoe will never be put into the hands of any wife of your’n. You know I am not quite a beggar, and all I own, whether in ammunition, skins, arms, or calicoes, I give to Hist, should I not come back to claim them by the end of the season. This will set the maiden up, and will buy labor for her, for a long time to come. I suppose I needn’t tell you to love the young woman, for that you do already, and whomsever the man ra‘ally loves, he’ll be likely enough to cherish. Nevertheless, it can do no harm to say that kind words never rankle, while bitter words do. I know you’re a man, Sarpent, that is less apt to talk in his own lodge than to speak at the council fire; but forgetful moments may overtake us all, and the practyce of kind doin’, and kind talkin’, is a wonderful advantage in keepin’ peace in a cabin, as well as on a hunt.”