“I don’t know a better way to treat with the Mingos, gal,” cried Deerslayer, “than to send you ashore, as you be, and to tell’em that a queen has arrived among’em! They’ll give up old Hutter, and Hurry, and Hetty, too, at such a spectacle!”
“I thought your tongue too honest to flatter, Deerslayer,” returned the girl, gratified at this admiration more than she would have cared to own. “One of the chief reasons of my respect for you, was your love for truth.”
“And ’t is truth, and solemn truth, Judith, and nothing else. Never did eyes of mine gaze on as glorious a lookin’ creatur’, as you be yourself, at this very moment! I’ve seen beauties in my time, too, both white and red; and them that was renowned and talk’d of, far and near; but, never have I beheld one that could hold any comparison with what you are at this blessed instant, Judith; never.”
The glance of delight which the girl bestowed on the frank-speaking hunter, in no degree lessened the effect of her charms; and as the humid eyes blended with it a look of sensibility, perhaps Judith never appeared more truly lovely, than at what the young man had called that “blessed instant.” He shook his head, held it suspended a moment over the open chest, like one in doubt, and then proceeded with the examination.
Several of the minor articles of female dress came next, all of a quality to correspond with the gown. These were laid at Judith’s feet, in silence, as if she had a natural claim to their possession. One or two, such as gloves, and lace, the girl caught up, and appended to her already rich attire, in affected playfulness, but with the real design of decorating her person as far as circumstances would allow. When these two remarkable suits, male and female they might be termed, were removed, another canvass covering separated the remainder of the articles from the part of the chest which they had occupied. As soon as Deerslayer perceived this arrangement, he paused, doubtful of the propriety of proceeding any further.
“Every man has his secrets, I suppose,” he said, “and all men have a right to their enj’yment; we’ve got low enough in this chist, in my judgment, to answer our wants, and it seems to me we should do well by going no farther; and by letting Master Hutter have to himself, and his own feelin’s, all that’s beneath this cover.”
“Do you mean, Deerslayer, to offer these clothes to the Iroquois, as ransom?” demanded Judith, quickly.
“Sartain. What are we prying into another man’s chist for, but to sarve its owner, in the best way we can. This coat, alone, would be very apt to gain over the head-chief of the riptyles; and if his wife or darter should happen to be out with him, that there gownd would soften the heart of any woman that is to be found atween Albany and Montreal. I do not see that we want a larger stock in trade than these two articles.”
“To you it may seem so, Deerslayer,” returned the disappointed girl; “but of what use could a dress like this be to any Indian woman? She could not wear it among the branches of the trees; the dirt and smoke of the wigwam would soon soil it; and how would a pair of red arms appear, thrust through these short, laced sleeves!”
“All very true, gal; and you might go on and say, it is altogether out of time, and place, and season, in this region at all. What is it to us how the finery is treated, so long as it answers our wishes? I do not see that your father can make any use of such clothes; and it’s lucky he has things that are of no valie to himself, that will bear a high price with others. We can make no better trade for him, than to offer these duds for his liberty. We’ll throw in the light frivol’ties, and get Hurry off in the bargain!”
“Then you think, Deerslayer, that Thomas Hutter has no one in his family--no child--no daughter, to whom this dress may be thought becoming, and whom you could wish to see in it, once and awhile, even though it should be at long intervals, and only in playfulness?”
“I understand you, Judith--yes, I now understand your meaning; and I think I can say, your wishes. That you are as glorious, in that dress, as the sun when it rises, or sets, in a soft October day, I’m ready to allow; and that you greatly become it, is a good deal more sartain than that it becomes you. There’s gifts in clothes, as well as in other things. Now I do not think that a warrior on his first path, ought to lay on the same awful paints as a chief that has had his virtue tried, and knows from exper’ence he will not disgrace his pretensions. So it is with all of us, red or white. You are Thomas Hutter’s darter, and that gownd was made for the child of some governor, or a lady of high station; and it was intended to be worn among fine furniture, and in rich company. In my eyes, Judith, a modest maiden never looks more becoming, than when becomingly clad, and nothing is suitable that is out of character. Besides, gal, if there’s a creatur’ in the colony that can afford to do without finery, and to trust to her own good looks, and sweet countenance, it’s yourself.”
“I’ll take off the rubbish this instant, Deerslayer,” cried the girl, springing up to leave the room; “and never do I wish to see it on any human being, again.”
“So it is with ’em all, Sarpent,” said the other, turning to his friend and laughing, as soon as the beauty had disappeared. “They like finery, but they like their natyve charms most of all. I’m glad the gal has consented to lay aside her furbelow, howsever, for it’s ag’in reason for one of her class to wear ’em; and then she is handsome enough, as I call it, to go alone. Hist would show oncommon likely, too, in such a gownd, Delaware!”
“Wah-ta!-Wah is a red-skin girl, Deerslayer,” returned the Indian; “like the young of the pigeon, she is to be known by her own feathers. I should pass by without knowing her, were she dressed in such a skin. It’s wisest always to be so clad that our friends need not ask us for our names. The ‘Wild Rose’ is very pleasant, but she is no sweeter for so many colours.”
“That’s it!--that’s natur’, and the true foundation for love and protection. When a man stops to pick a wild strawberry, he does not expect to find a melon; and when he wishes to gather a melon, he’s disapp’inted if it prove to be a squash; though squashes be often brighter to the eye than melons. That’s it, and it means, stick to your gifts, and your gifts will stick to you.”
The two men had now a little discussion together, touching the propriety of penetrating any farther into the chest of Hutter, when Judith re-appeared, divested of her robes, and in her own simple, linen frock again.
“Thank you, Judith,” said Deerslayer, taking her kindly by the hand; “for I know it went a little ag’in the nat’ral cravings of woman, to lay aside so much finery, as it might be in a lump. But you’re more pleasing to the eye as you stand, you be, than if you had a crown on your head, and jewels dangling from your hair. The question now is, whether to lift this covering, to see what will be ra’ally the best bargain we can make for Master Hutter; for we must do as we think he would be willing to do, did he stand here in our places.”
Judith looked very happy. Accustomed as she was to adulation, the humble homage of Deerslayer had given her more true satisfaction, than she had ever yet received from the tongue of man. It was not the terms in which this admiration had been expressed, for they were simple enough, that produced so strong an impression; nor yet their novelty, or their warmth of manner, nor any of those peculiarities that usually give value to praise; but the unflinching truth of the speaker, that carried his words so directly to the heart of the listener. This is one of the great advantages of plain dealing and frankness. The habitual and wily flatterer may succeed until his practices recoil on himself; and like other sweets, his aliment cloys by its excess; but he who deals honestly, though he often necessarily offend, possesses a power of praising that no quality but sincerity can bestow; since his words go directly to the heart, finding their support in the understanding. Thus it was with Deerslayer and Judith; so soon and so deeply did this simple hunter impress all who knew him, with a conviction of his unbending honesty, that all he uttered in commendation was as certain to please, as all he uttered in the way of rebuke was certain to rankle and excite enmity, where his chara
cter had not awakened a respect and affection, that in another sense rendered it painful. In after life, when the career of this untutored being brought him in contact with officers of rank, and others entrusted with the care of the interests of the state, this same influence was exerted on a wider field; even generals listening to his commendations with a glow of pleasure, that it was not always in the power of their official superiors to awaken. Perhaps Judith was the first individual of his own colour, who fairly submitted to this natural consequence of truth and fair-dealing, on the part of Deerslayer. She had actually pined for his praise, and she had now received it; and that in the form which was most agreeable to her weaknesses and habits of thought. The result will appear in the course of the narrative.
“If we knew all that chest holds, Deerslayer,” returned the girl, when she had a little recovered from the immediate effect produced by his commendations of her personal appearance; “we could better determine on the course we ought to take.”
“That’s not onreasonable, gal, though it’s more a paleface than a red-skin gift, to be prying into other people’s secrets.”
“Curiosity is natural, and it is expected that all human beings should have human failings. Whenever I’ve been at the garrisons, I’ve found that most, in and about them, had a longing to learn their neighbour’s secrets.”
“Yes, and sometimes to fancy them, when they couldn’t find’em out! That’s the difference atween an Indian gentleman, and a white gentleman. The Sarpent, here, would turn his head aside, if he found himself onknowingly lookin’ into another chief’s wigwam; whereas, in the settlements, while all pretend to be great people, most prove they’ve got betters, by the manner in which they talk of their consarns. I’ll be bound, Judith, you wouldn’t get the Sarpent, there, to confess there was another in the tribe so much greater than himself, as to become the subject of his idees, and to empl’y his tongue in conversations about his movements, and ways, and food, and all the other little matters that occupy a man when he’s not empl’y’d in his greater duties. He who does this, is but little better than a blackguard in the grain, and them that encourages him, is pretty much of the same kidney, let them wear coats as fine as they may, or of what dye they please.”
“But this is not another man’s wigwam; it belongs to my father; these are his things, and they are wanted in his service.”
“That’s true, gal, that’s true; and it carries weight with it. Well, when all is before us, we may, indeed, best judge, which to offer for the ransom, and which to withhold.”
Judith was not altogether as disinterested in her feelings, as she affected to be. She remembered that the curiosity of Hetty had been indulged, in connection with this chest, while her own had been disregarded; and she was not sorry to possess an opportunity of being placed on a level with her less gifted sister, in this one particular. It appearing to be admitted all round, that the inquiry into the contents of the chest ought to be pushed further, Deerslayer proceeded to remove the second covering of canvass.
The articles that lay uppermost, when the curtain was again raised on the secrets of the chest, were a pair of pistols, curiously inlaid with silver. Their value would have been considerable, in one of the towns, though as weapons, in the woods, they were a species of arms seldom employed; never, indeed, unless it might be by some officer from Europe, who visited the colonies, as many were then wont to do, so much impressed with the superiority of the usages of London, as to fancy they were not to be laid aside on the frontier of America. What occurred on the discovery of these weapons, will appear, in the succeeding chapter.
CHAPTER XIII.
“An oaken, broken, elbow chair;
A candle-cup without an ear;
A battered, shattered, ash bedstead;
A box of deal without a lid;
A pair of tongs, but out of joint;
A back-sword poker, without point;
A dish which might good meat afford once;
An Ovid, and an old Concordance.”
Dean Swift’s Inventory. No sooner did Deerslayer raise the pistols, than he turned to the Delaware, and held them up, for his admiration.
“Child gun,” said the Serpent, smiling, while he handled one of the instruments as if it had been a toy.
“Not it, Sarpent; not it. ’T is made for a man, and would satisfy a giant, if rightly used. But stop; white men are remarkable for their carelessness in putting away fire-arms, in chists and corners. Let me look if care has been given to these we’pons.”
As Deerslayer spoke, he took the weapon from the hand of his friend, and opened the pan. The last was filled with priming, caked like a bit of cinder, by time, moisture, and compression. An application of the ramrod showed that both the pistols were charged, although Judith could testify that they had probably lain for years in the chest. It is not easy to portray the surprise of the Indian, at this discovery, for he was in the practice of renewing his priming daily, and of looking to the contents of his piece, at other short intervals.
“This is white neglect,” said Deerslayer, shaking his head, “and scarce a season goes by, that some one in the settlements doesn’t suffer from it. It’s extr’ornary too, Judith -- yes, it’s downright extr’ornary, that the owner shall fire his piece at a deer, or some other game, or perhaps at an inimy, and twice out of three times he’ll miss; but let him catch an accident with one of these forgotten charges, and he makes it sartain death to a child, or a brother, or a fri’nd! Well, we shall do a good turn to the owner if we fire these pistols for him; and as they’re novelties to you and me, Sarpent, we’ll try our hands at a mark. Freshen that priming, and I’ll do the same with this, and then we’ll see who is the best man with a pistol; as for the rifle, that’s long been settled atween us.”
Deerslayer laughed heartily, at his own conceit, and, in a minute or two, they were both standing on the platform, selecting some object in the ark for their target. Judith was led by curiosity to their side.
“Stand back, gal, stand a little back; these we’pons have been long loaded,” said Deerslayer, “and some accident may happen in the discharge.”
“Then you shall not fire them! Give them both to the Delaware; or, it would be better to unload them, without firing.”
“That’s ag’in usage--and some people say ag’in manhood; though I hold to no such silly doctrine. We must fire ’em, Judith; yes, we must fire ’em; though I foresee that neither will have any great reason to boast of his skill.”
Judith, in the main, was a girl of great personal spirit, and her habits prevented her from feeling any of the terror that is apt to come over her sex, at the report of fire-arms. She had discharged many a rifle, and had even been known to kill a deer, under circumstances that were favourable to the effort. She submitted, therefore, falling a little back by the side of Deerslayer, giving the Indian the front of the platform to himself. Chingachgook raised the weapon several times, endeavoured to steady it by using both hands, changed his attitude, from one that was awkward to another still more so, and finally drew the trigger with a sort of desperate indifference, without having, in reality, secured any aim at all. The consequence was, that instead of hitting the knot, which had been selected for the mark, he missed the ark altogether; the bullet skipping along the water like a stone that was thrown by hand.
“Well done, Sarpent -- well done,” cried Deerslayer, laughing with his noiseless glee, “you’ve hit the lake, and that’s an expl’ite, for some men! I know’d it, and as much as said it, here, to Judith; for your short we’pons don’t belong to red-skin gifts. You’ve hit the lake, and that’s better than only hitting the air! Now, stand back, and let us see what white gifts can do with a white we’pon. A pistol isn’t a rifle; but colour is colour.”
The aim of Deerslayer was both quick and steady, and the report followed almost as soon as the weapon rose. Still the pistol hung fire, as it is termed, and fragments of it flew in a dozen directions, some falling on the roof of the castle, others in the
ark, and one in the water. Judith screamed, and when the two men turned anxiously towards the girl, she was as pale as death, trembling in every limb.
“She’s wounded -- yes, the poor gal’s wounded, Sarpent, though one couldn’t foresee it, standing where she did. We’ll lead her into a seat, and we must do the best for her that our knowledge and skill can afford.”
Judith suffered herself to be supported to a seat, swallowed a mouthful of the water that the Delaware offered her in a gourd, and, after a violent fit of trembling, that seemed ready to shake her fine frame to dissolution, she burst into tears.
“The pain must be borne, poor Judith -- yes, it must be borne,” said Deerslayer, soothingly; “though I am far from wishing you not to weep; for weeping often lightens galish feelin’s. Where can she be hurt, Sarpent? I see no signs of blood, nor any rent of skin or garments.”
The Deerslayer; or, The First Warpath . . . Volume 1 Page 24
