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

by James Fenimore Cooper

  “What now, Judith?--what next?--Do the Mingos still follow, or are we quit of ’em, for the present?” demanded Deerslayer, when he felt the rope yielding, as if the scow was going fast ahead, and heard the scream, and the laugh of the girl, almost in the same breath.

  “They have vanished!--one, the last, is just burying himself in the bushes of the bank--there, he has disappeared in the shadows of the trees! You have got your friend, and we are all safe!”

  The two men now made another great effort, pulled the ark up swiftly to the grapnel, tripped it, and when the scow had shot some distance, and lost its way, they let the anchor drop again; then, for the first time since their meeting, they ceased their efforts. As the floating house now lay several hundred feet from the shore, and offered a complete protection against bullets, there was no longer any danger, or any motive for immediate exertion.

  The manner in which the two friends now recognized each other, was highly characteristic. Chingachgook, a noble, tall, handsome, and athletic young Indian warrior, first examined his rifle, with care, opening the pan, to make sure the priming was not wet; and, assured of this important fact, he next cast furtive but observant glances around him, at the strange habitation, and at the two girls; still he spoke not, and most of all, did he avoid the betrayal of a womanish curiosity, by asking questions.

  “Judith and Hetty,” said Deerslayer, with an untaught, natural courtesy, “this is the Mohican chief of whom you’ve heard me speak; Chingachgook, as he is called, which signifies the Big Sarpent; so named for his wisdom, and prudence, and cunning, and my ’arliest and latest friend. I know’d it must be he, by the hawk’s feather over the left ear, most other warriors wearing ’em on the war-lock.”

  As Deerslayer ceased speaking, he laughed heartily, excited more perhaps by the delight of having got his friend safe at his side, under circumstances so trying, than by any conceit that happened to cross his fancy, and exhibiting this outbreaking of feeling in a manner that was a little remarkable, since his merriment was not accompanied by any noise. Although Chingachgook both understood and spoke English, he was unwilling to communicate his thoughts in it, like most Indians; and when he had met Judith’s cordial shake of the hand, and Hetty’s milder salute, in the courteous manner that became a chief, he turned away, apparently to await the moment when it might suit his friend to enter into an explanation of his future intentions, and to give a narrative of what had passed since their separation. The other understood his meaning, and discovered his own mode of reasoning in the matter, by addressing the girls.

  “This wind will soon die away altogether, now the sun is down,” he said, “and there is no need of rowing ag’in it. In half an hour, or so, it will either be a flat calm, or the air will come off from the south shore, when we will begin our journey back ag’in to the castle; in the meanwhile, the Delaware and I will talk over matters, and get correct idees of each other’s notions, consarning the course we ought to take.”

  No one opposed this proposition, and the girls withdrew into the cabin to prepare the evening meal, while the two young men took their seats on the head of the scow, and began to converse. The dialogue was in the language of the Delawares. As that dialect, however, is but little understood, even by the learned, we shall, not only on this, but on all subsequent occasions, render such parts as it may be necessary to give closely, into liberal English; preserving, as far as possible, the idioms and peculiarities of the respective speakers, by way of presenting the pictures in the most graphic forms to the minds of the readers.

  It is unnecessary to enter into the details first related by Deerslayer, who gave a brief narrative of the facts that are already familiar to those who have read our pages. In relating these events, however, it may be well to say that the speaker touched only on the outlines, more particularly abstaining from saying any thing about his encounter with, and victory over the Iroquois, as well as to his own exertions in behalf of the deserted young women. When Deerslayer ended, the Delaware took up the narrative, in turn, speaking sententiously, and with great dignity. His account was both clear and short, nor was it embellished by any incidents that did not directly concern the history of his departure from the villages of his people, and his arrival in the valley of the Susquehannah. On reaching the latter, which was at a point only half a mile south of the outlet, he had soon struck a trail, which gave him notice of the probable vicinity of enemies. Being prepared for such an occurrence, the object of the expedition calling him directly into the neighbourhood of the party of Iroquois that was known to be out, he considered the discovery as fortunate, rather than the reverse, and took the usual precautions to turn it to account. First following the river to its source, and ascertaining the position of the rock, he met another trail, and had actually been hovering for hours on the flanks of his enemies, watching equally for an opportunity to meet his mistress, and to take a scalp; and it may be questioned which he most ardently desired. He kept near the lake, and occasionally he ventured to some spot where he could get a view of what was passing on its surface. The ark had been seen and watched, from the moment it hove in sight, though the young chief was necessarily ignorant that it was to be the instrument of effecting the desired juncture with his friend. The uncertainty of its movements, and the fact that it was unquestionably managed by white men, led him to conjecture the truth, however, and he held himself in readiness to get on board whenever a suitable occasion might offer. As the sun drew near the horizon, he repaired to the rock, where, on emerging from the forest, he was gratified in finding the ark lying, apparently in readiness to receive him. The manner of his appearance, and of his entrance into the craft, is known.

  Although Chingachgook had been closely watching his enemies for hours, their sudden and close pursuit, as he reached the scow, was as much a matter of surprise to himself, as it had been to his friend. He could only account for it, by the fact of their being more numerous than he had at first supposed, and by their having out parties, of the existence of which he was ignorant. Their regular, and permanent encampment, if the word permanent can be applied to the residence of a party that intended to remain out, in all probability, but a few weeks, was not far from the spot where Hutter and Hurry had fallen into their hands, and, as a matter of course, near a spring.

  “Well, Sarpent,” asked Deerslayer, when the other had ended his brief but spirited narrative, speaking always in the Delaware tongue, which for the reader’s convenience only, we render into the peculiar vernacular of the speaker. “Well, Sarpent, as you’ve been scouting around these Mingos, have you any thing to tell us of their captyves; the father of these young women, and another, who, I somewhat conclude, is the lovyer of one of ’em.”

  “Chingachgook has seen them. An old man, and a young warrior--the falling hemlock, and the tall pine.”

  “You ’re not so much out, Delaware; you ’re not so much out. Old Hutter is decaying, of a sartainty, though many solid blocks might be hewn out of his trunk yet; and, as for Hurry Harry, so far as height, and strength, and comeliness go, he may be called the pride of the human forest. Were the men bound, or, in any manner, suffering torture? I ask on account of the young women; who, I dare to say, would be glad to know.”

  “It is not so, Deerslayer. The Mingos are too many to cage their game. Some watch; some sleep; some scout; some hunt. The pale-faces are treated like brothers to-day; to-morrow they will lose their scalps.”

  “Yes, that’s red natur’, and must be submitted to! Judith and Hetty, here’s comforting tidings for you, the Delaware telling me that neither your father nor Hurry Harry is in suffering; but, bating the loss of liberty, as well off, as we are ourselves. Of course they are kept in the camp; otherwise they do much as they please.”

  “I rejoice to hear this, Deerslayer,” returned Judith, “and now we are joined by your friend, I make no manner of question that we shall find an opportunity to ransom the prisoners. If there are any women in the camp, I have articles of dress that will catch th
eir eyes; and, should the worst come to the worst, we can open the good chest, which, I think will be found to hold things that may tempt the chiefs.”

  “Judith,” said the young man, looking up at her with a smile, and an expression of earnest curiosity, that, spite of the growing obscurity, did not escape the watchful looks of the girl, “can you find it in your heart, to part with your own finery, to release prisoners; even though one be your own father, and the other is your sworn suitor and lovyer?”

  The flush on the face of the girl arose in part from resentment, but more perhaps from a gentler and novel feeling, that, with the capricious way wardness of taste, had been rapidly rendering her more sensitive to the good opinion of the youth who questioned her, than to that of any other person. Suppressing the angry sensation, with instinctive quickness, she answered with a readiness and truth, that caused her sister to draw near to listen, though the obtuse intellect of the latter was far from comprehending the workings of a heart as treacherous, as uncertain, and as impetuous in its feelings, as that of the spoiled and flattered beauty.

  “Deerslayer,” answered Judith, after a moment’s pause; “I shall be honest with you. I confess, that the time has been when what you call finery, was to me the dearest thing on earth; but I begin to feel differently. Though Hurry Harry is naught to me, nor ever can be, I would give all I own to set him free. If I would do this, for blustering, bullying, talking Hurry, who has nothing but good looks to recommend him, you may judge what I would do for my own father.”

  “This sounds well, and is according to woman’s gifts. Ah ’s me! The same feelin’s is to be found among the young women of the Delawares. I’ve known ’em, often and often, sacrifice their vanity to their hearts. ’T is as it should be--’t is as it should be I suppose, in both colours. Woman was created for the feelin’s, and is pretty much ruled by feelin’!”

  “Would the savages let father go, if Judith and I gave them all our best things?” demanded Hetty, in her innocent, mild, manner.

  “Their women might interfere, good Hetty; yes, their women might interfere with such an ind in view. But, tell me, Sarpent, how is it as to squaws among the knaves; have they many of their own women in the camp?”

  the tree tops, 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 pale-face 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.

  “ ’T is as you suspect, Sarpent; yes, ’t is somewhat that-a-way. 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, 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 was’n’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 colour. God gave me the victory; I could’nt fly in the face of his providence by forgetting my birth and natur’. White he made me, and white I must live and die.”

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

  “This is easy talking, but ’t will 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 the 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 every thing modestly, and with a careful attention to avoid the Indian habit of boasting. Chingachgook again expressed his satisfaction at the honour won by his friend, and then both arose, the hour having arrived when it became prudent to move the ark further 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 favouring 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 companion, 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 favour 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 had 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 d
efensive, 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 favoured 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 centre 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 track--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.