The Deerslayer; or, The First Warpath . . . Volume 1

by James Fenimore Cooper

  “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 taking the poll of a red-skin in hand, seeing that the very 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 strand; and, as vegetation invariably struggles towards the 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 the river; we’ll look for him first in the Cove, and then 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 spring he may meet, to study his own countenance in the 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 me for ever campaigning, or scouting, which I look 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 the valley, forming the southern termination of the water. 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 log; I’ll land, and cut off the creatur’s retreat up the p’int, 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 the Delawares, in the way of schooling and traditions, even 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.”