“A Delaware can have no unfriendly intentions towards us,” said Judith, after a moment’s hesitation, “and we know you to be friendly.”
“Treachery is the last crime I hope to be accused of,” returned Deerslayer, hurt at the gleam of distrust that had shot through Judith’s mind; “and, least of all, treachery to my own colour.”
“No one suspects you, Deerslayer,” the girl impetuously cried. “No--no--your honest countenance would be a sufficient surety for the truth of a thousand hearts! If all men had as honest tongues, and no more promised what they did not mean to perform, there would be less wrong done in the world, and fine feathers and scarlet cloaks would not be thought excuses for baseness and deception.”
The girl spoke with strong, nay, even with convulsed feeling, and her fine eyes, usually so soft and alluring, flashed fire as she concluded. Deerslayer could not but observe this extraordinary emotion; but, with the tact of a courtier, he avoided not only any allusion to the circumstance, but succeeded in concealing the effect of his discovery on himself. Judith gradually grew calm again, and, as she was obviously anxious to appear to advantage in the eyes of the young man, she was soon able to renew the conversation as composedly as if nothing had occurred to disturb her.
“I have no right to look into your secrets, or the secrets of your friend, Deerslayer,” she continued, “and am ready to take all you say on trust. If we can really get another male ally to join us, at this trying moment, it will aid us much; and I am not without hope that when the savages find we are able to keep the lake, they will offer to give up their prisoners in exchange for skins, or, at least for the keg of powder that we have in the house.”
The young man had the words “scalps,” and “bounty,” on his lips, but a reluctance to alarm the feelings of the daughters, prevented him from making the allusion he had intended to the probable fate of their father. Still, so little was he practised in the arts of deception, that his expressive countenance was, of itself, understood by the quick-witted Judith, whose intelligence had been sharpened by the risks and habits of her life.
“I understand what you mean,” she continued, hurriedly, “and what you would say, but for the fear of hurting me --us, I mean; for Hetty loves her father quite as well as I do. But this is not as we think of Indians. They never scalp an unhurt prisoner, but would rather take him away alive; unless, indeed, the fierce wish for torturing should get the mastery of them. I fear nothing for my father’s scalp, and little for his life. Could they steal on us, in the night, we should all probably suffer in this way; but men taken in open strife, are seldom injured; not, at least, until the time of torture comes.”
“That’s tradition, I’ll allow, and it’s according to practice--but, Judith, do you know the ’ar’nd on which your father and Hutter went ag’in the savages?”
“I do; and a cruel errand it was! But what will you have? Men will be men, and some even that flaunt in their gold and silver, and carry the king’s commission in their pockets, are not guiltless of equal cruelty.” Judith’s eye again flashed, but, by a desperate struggle, she resumed her composure. “I get warm, when I think of all the wrong that men do,” she added, affecting to smile, an effort in which she only succeeded indifferently well. “All this is silly. What is done, is done, and it cannot be mended by complaints. But the Indians think so little of the shedding of blood, and value men so much for the boldness of their undertakings, that, did they know the business on which their prisoners came, they would be more likely to honour, than to injure them for it.”
“For a time, Judith; yes, I allow that, for a time. But, when that feelin’ dies away, then will come the love of revenge. We must indivour, Chingachgook and I, we must indivour to see what we can do to get Hurry and your father free; for the Mingos will, no doubt, hover about this lake some days, in order to make the most of their success.”
“You think this Delaware can be depended on, Deerslayer?” demanded the girl, thoughtfully.
“As much as I can myself. You say you do not suspect me, Judith?”
“You!” taking his hand again, and pressing it between her own with a warmth that might have awakened the vanity of one less simple-minded, and more disposed to dwell on his own good qualities, “I would as soon suspect a brother! I have known you but a day, Deerslayer, but it has awakened the confidence of a year. Your name, however, is not unknown to me; for the gallants of the garrisons frequently speak of the lessons you have given them in hunting, and all proclaim your honesty.”
“Do they ever talk of the shooting, gal?” inquired the other eagerly, after, however, laughing in a silent but heart-felt manner. “Do they ever talk of the shooting? I want to hear nothing about my own, for, if that isn’t sartified to, by this time, in all these parts, there’s little use in being skilful and sure; but what do the officers say of their own-- yes, what do they say of their own! Arms, as they call it, is their trade, and yet there’s some among ’em that know very little how to use ’em!”
“Such, I hope, will not be the case with your friend Chingachgook, as you call him--what is the English of his Indian name?”
“Big Sarpent--so called for his wisdom and cunning. Uncas is his ra’al name--all his family being called Uncas, until they get a title that has been ’arned by deeds.”
“If he has all this wisdom, we may expect a useful friend in him, unless his own business in this part of the country should prevent him from serving us.”
“I see no great harm in telling you his ar’n’d, after all, and, as you may find means to help us, I will let you and Hetty into the whole matter, trusting that you’ll keep the secret as if it was your own. You must know that Chingachgook is a comely Indian, and is much look’d upon and admired by the young women of his tribe, both on account of his family, and on account of himself. Now, there is a chief that has a daughter called Wah-ta!-Wah, which is intarpreted into Hist-oh!-Hist, in the English tongue, the rarest gal among the Delawares, and the one most sought after and craved for a wife, by all the young warriors of the nation. Well, Chingachgook, among others, took a fancy to Wah-ta!-Wah, and Wah-ta!-Wah took a fancy to him.” Here Deerslayer paused an instant; for, as he got thus far in his tale, Hetty Hutter arose, approached and stood attentive at his knee, as a child draws near to listen to the legends of its mother. “Yes, he fancied her, and she fancied him,” resumed Deerslayer, after casting a friendly and approving glance at the innocent and interested girl; “and when that is the case, and all the elders are agreed, it does not often happen that the young couple keep apart. Chingachgook could’n’t well carry off such a prize without making inimies among them that wanted her as much as he did himself. A sartain Briarthorn, as we call him in English, or Yocommon, as he is tarmed in Indian, took it most to heart, and we mistrust him of having a hand in all that followed. Wah-ta!- Wah went with her father and mother, two moons ago, to fish for salmon, on the western streams, where, it is agreed by all in these parts, that fish most abounds, and while thus empl’y’d the gal vanished. For several weeks we could get no tidings of her; but, here, ten days since, a runner that came through the Delaware country, brought us a message, by which we l’arn that Wah-ta!-Wah was stolen from her people--we think, but do not know it, by Briarthorn’s sarcumventions,--and that she was now with the inimy, who had adopted her, and wanted her to marry a young Mingo. The message said that the party intended to hunt and forage through this region, for a month or two, afore it went back into the Canadas, and that if we could contrive to get on a scent in this quarter, something might turn up that would lead to our getting the maiden off.”
“And how does that concern you, Deerslayer?” demanded Judith, a little anxiously.
“It consarns me, as all things that touches a fri’nd consarns a fri’nd. I’m here as Chingachgook’s aid and helper, and if we can get the young maiden he likes back ag’in, it will give me almost as much pleasure as if I had got back my own sweetheart.”
“And where, then, is your sweethea
rt, Deerslayer?”
“She ’s in the forest, Judith--hanging from the boughs of the trees, in a soft rain--in the dew on the open grass-- the clouds that float about in the blue heavens--the birds that sing in the woods--the sweet springs where I slake my thirst--and in all the other glorious gifts that come from God’s Providence!”
“You mean that, as yet, you’ve never loved one of my sex, but love best your haunts, and your own manner of life.”
“That’s it--that’s just it. I am white--have a white heart, and can’t, in reason, love a red-skinned maiden, who must have a red-skin heart and feelin’s. No, no, I ’m sound enough in them particulars, and hope to remain so, at least till this war is over. I find my time too much taken up with Chingachgook’s affair, to wish to have one of my own on my hands afore that is settled.”
“The girl that finally wins you, Deerslayer, will at least win an honest heart; one without treachery or guile; and that will be a victory, that most of her sex ought to envy.”
As Judith uttered this, her beautiful face had a resentful frown on it; while a bitter smile lingered around a mouth that no derangement of the muscles could render any thing but handsome. Her companion observed the change, and, though little skilled in the workings of the female heart, he had sufficient native delicacy to understand that it might be well to drop the subject.
As the hour when Chingachgook was expected, still remained distant, Deerslayer had time enough to examine into the state of the defences, and to make such additional arrangements as were in his power, and the exigency of the moment seemed to require. The experience and foresight of Hutter had left little to be done in these particulars; still several precautions suggested themselves to the young man, who may be said to have studied the art of frontier warfare, through the traditions and legends of the people among whom he had so long lived. The distance between the castle and the nearest point on the shore, prevented any apprehension on the subject of rifle-bullets thrown from the land. The house was within musket-shot, in one sense, it was true, but aim was entirely out of the question, and even Judith professed a perfect disregard of any danger from that source. So long, then, as the party remained in possession of the fortress, they were safe; unless their assailants could find the means to come off and carry it by fire or storm; or, by some of the devices of Indian cunning and Indian treachery. Against the first source of danger, Hutter had made ample provision, and the building itself, the bark roof excepted, was not very combustible. The floor was scuttled in several places, and buckets provided with ropes, were in daily use, in readiness for any such emergency. One of the girls could easily extinguish any fire that might be lighted, provided it had not time to make much headway. Judith, who appeared to understand all her father’s schemes of defence, and who had the spirit to take no unimportant share in the execution of them, explained all these details to the young man, who was thus saved much time and labour in making his investigations.
Little was to be apprehended during the day. In possession of the canoes and of the ark, no other vessel was to be found on the lake. Nevertheless, Deerslayer well knew that a raft was soon made, and as dead trees were to be found in abundance near the water, did the savages seriously contemplate the risks of an assault, it would not be a very difficult matter to find the necessary means. The celebrated American axe, a tool that is quite unrivalled in its way, was then not very extensively known, and the savages were far from expert in the use of its hatchet-like substitute; still, they had sufficient practive in crossing streams by this mode to render it certain they would construct a raft, should they deem it expedient to expose themselves to the risks of an assault. The death of their warrior might prove a sufficient incentive, or it might act as a caution; but Deerslayer thought it more than possible that the succeeding night would bring matters to a crisis, and in this precise way. This impression caused him to wish ardently for the presence and succour of his Mohican friend, and to look forward to the approach of sunset with an increasing anxiety.
As the day advanced, the party in the castle matured their plans, and made their preparations. Judith was active, and seemed to find a pleasure in consulting and advising with her new acquaintance, whose indifference to danger, manly devotion to herself and sister, guilelessness of manner, and truth of feeling, had won rapidly on both her imagination and her affections. Although the hours appeared long in some respects to Deerslayer, Judith did not find them so, and when the sun began to descend towards the pine-clad summits of the western hills, she felt and expressed her surprise that the day should so soon be drawing to a close. On the other hand, Hetty was moody and silent. She was never loquacious, or if she occasionally became communicative, it was under the influence of some temporary excitement, that served to arouse her unsophisticated mind; but, for hours at a time, in the course of this all-important day, she seemed to have absolutely lost the use of her tongue. Nor did apprehension on account of her father, materially affect the manner of either sister. Neither appeared seriously to dread any evil greater than captivity, and once or twice, when Hetty did speak, she intimated the expectation that Hutter would find the means to liberate himself. Although Judith was less sanguine on this head, she too betrayed the hope that propositions for a ransom would come, when the Indians discovered that the castle set their expedients and artifices at defiance. Deerslayer, however, treated these passing suggestions as the ill-digested fancies of girls, making his own arrangements as steadily, and brooding over the future as seriously, as if they had never fallen from their lips.
At length the hour arrived when it became necessary to proceed to the place of rendezvous appointed with the Mohican; or Delaware, as Chingachgook was more commonly called. As the plan had been matured by Deerslayer, and fully communicated to his companions, all three set about its execution, in concert, and intelligently. Hetty passed into the ark, and fastening two of the canoes together, she entered one, and paddled up to a sort of gate-way in the palisadoes that surrounded the building, through which she carried both; securing them beneath the house by chains that were fastened within the building. These palisadoes were trunks of trees driven firmly into the mud, and served the double purpose of a small enclosure, that was intended to be used in this very manner, and to keep any enemy that might approach in boats at arm’s-length. Canoes thus docked were, in a measure, hid from sight, and as the gate was properly barred and fastened, it would not be an easy task to remove them, even in the event of their being seen. Previously, however, to closing the gate, Judith also entered within the enclosure with the third canoe, leaving Deerslayer busy in securing the door and windows inside the building, over her head. As every thing was massive and strong, and small saplings were used as bars, it would have been the work of an hour or two to break into the building, when Deerslayer had ended his task, even allowing the assailants the use of any tools but the axe, and to be unresisted. This attention to security arose from Hutter’s having been robbed once or twice, by the lawless whites of the frontiers, during some of his many absences from home.
As soon as all was fast in the inside of the dwelling, Deerslayer appeared at a trap, from which he descended into the canoe of Judith. When this was done, he fastened the door with a massive staple and stout padlock. Hetty was then received in the canoe, which was shoved outside of the palisadoes. The next precaution was to fasten the gate, and the keys were carried into the ark. The three were now fastened out of the dwelling, which could only be entered by violence, or by following the course taken by the young man in quitting it.
The glass had been brought outside as a preliminary step, and Deerslayer next took a careful survey of the entire shore of the lake, as far as his own position would allow. Not a living thing was visible, a few birds excepted, and even the last fluttered about in the shades of the trees, as if unwilling to encounter the heat of a sultry afternoon. All the nearest points, in particular, were subjected to severe scrutiny, in order to make certain that no raft was in preparation; the result everywh
ere giving the same picture of calm solitude. A few words will explain the greatest embarrassment belonging to the situation of our party. Exposed themselves to the observation of any watchful eyes, the movements of their enemies were concealed by the drapery of a dense forest. While the imagination would be very apt to people the latter with more warriors than it really contained, their own weakness must be too apparent to all who might chance to cast a glance in their direction.
“Nothing is stirring, hows’ever,” exclaimed Deerslayer, as he finally lowered the glass, and prepared to enter the ark: “If the vagabonds do harbour mischief in their minds, they are too cunning to let it be seen; it’s true, a raft may be in preparation in the woods, but it has not yet been brought down to the lake. They can’t guess that we are about to quit the castle, and, if they did, they ’ve no means of knowing where we intend to go.”
“This is so true, Deerslayer,” returned Judith, “that now all is ready, we may proceed, at once, boldly, and without the fear of being followed--else we shall be behind our time.”
“No--no--the matter needs management--for, though the savages are in the dark as to Chingachgook and the rock, they ’ve eyes and legs, and will see in what direction we steer, and will be sartain to follow us. I shall strive to baffle ’em, hows’ever, by heading the scow in all manner of ways, first in one quarter, and then in another, until they get to be a-leg-weary, and tired of tramping after us.”
The Deerslayer; or, The First Warpath . . . Volume 1 Page 15
