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

by James Fenimore Cooper

  “Do you think, Deerslayer,” inquired Hetty, in her simple and innocent manner, “that the Iroquois won’t let father and Hurry go? -- I read to them several of the very best verses in the whole Bible, and you see what they have done, already.”

  The hunter, as he always did, listened kindly and even affectionately to Hetty’s remarks: then he mused a moment in silence. There was something like a flush on his cheek, as he answered, after quite a minute had passed.

  “I don’t know whether a white man ought to be ashamed, or not, to own he can’t read; but such is my case, Judith. You are skilful, I find, in all such matters, while I have only studied the hand of God, as it is seen in the hills and the valleys, the mountain-tops, the streams, the forest, and the springs. Much l’arning may be got in this way, as well as out of books; and, yet, I sometimes think it is a white man’s gift to read! When I hear from the mouths of the Moravians, the words of which Hetty speaks, they raise a longing in my mind, and I think I will know how to read ’em myself; but the game in summer, and the traditions, and lessons in war, and other matters, have always kept me behindhand.”

  “Shall I teach you, Deerslayer?” asked Hetty, earnestly. “I’m weak-minded, they say, but I can read as well as Judith. It might save your life, to know how to read the Bible to the savages, and it will certainly save your soul; for mother told me that, again and again!”

  “Thankee, Hetty -- yes, thankee, with all my heart. There are like to be too stirring times for much idleness; but, after it ’s peace, and I come to see you ag’in on this lake, then I ’ll give myself up to it, as if ’twas pleasure and profit, in a single business. Perhaps I ought to be ashamed, Judith, that ’t is so; but truth is truth. As for these Iroquois, ’tisn’t very likely they ’ll forget a beast with two tails, on account of a varse or two from the Bible. I rather expect they ’ll give up the prisoners, and trust to some sarcumvention, or other, to get ’em back ag’in, with us and all in the castle, and the ark, in the bargain. Howsever, we must humour the vagabonds, first, to get your father and Hurry out of their hands, and next, to keep the peace atween us, until such time as the Sarpent there, can make out to get off his betrothed wife. If there’s any sudden outbreakin’ of anger and ferocity, the Indians will send off all their women and children to the camp, at once; whereas, by keeping ’em calm and trustful, we may manage to meet Hist, at the spot she has mentioned. Rather than have the bargain fall through, now, I ’d throw in half a dozen of them effigy bow-and-arrow men, such as we ’ve in plenty in the chist.”

  Judith cheerfully assented, for she would have resigned even the flowered brocade, rather than not redeem her father, and please Deerslayer.

  The prospects of success were now so encouraging, as to raise the spirits of all in the castle, though a due watchfulness on the movements of the enemy, was maintained. Hour passed after hour, notwithstanding, and the sun had once more begun to fall towards the summits of the western hills, and yet no signs were seen of the return of the raft. By dint of sweeping the shore with the glass, Deerslayer at length discovered a place in the dense and dark woods, where, he entertained no doubt, the Iroquois were assembled in considerable numbers. It was near the thicket whence the raft had issued, and a little rill that trickled into the lake announced the vicinity of a spring. Here, then, the savages were probably holding their consultation, and the decision was to be made that went to settle the question of life or death for the prisoners. There was one ground for hope in spite of the delay, however, that Deerslayer did not fail to place before his anxious companions. It was far more probable that the Indians had left their prisoners in the camp, than that they had encumbered themselves, by causing them to follow through the woods, a party that was out on a merely temporary excursion. If such was the fact, it required considerable time to send a messenger the necessary distance, and to bring the two white men to the spot where they were to embark. Encouraged by these reflections, a new stock of patience was gathered, and the declension of the sun was viewed with less alarm.

  The result justified Deerslayer’s conjecture. Not long before the sun had finally disappeared, the two logs were seen coming out of the thicket, again; and, as it drew near, Judith announced that her father and Hurry, both of them pinioned, lay on the bushes in the centre. As before, the Indians were rowing. The latter seemed to be conscious that the lateness of the hour demanded unusual exertions, and contrary to the habits of their people, who are ever averse to toil, they laboured hard at the rude substitutes for oars. In consequence of this diligence, the raft occupied its old station, in about half the time that had been taken in the previous visits.

  Even after the conditions were so well understood, and matters had proceeded so far, the actual transfer of the prisoners was not a duty to be executed without difficulty. The Iroquois were compelled to place great reliance on the good faith of their foes, though it was reluctantly given, and was yielded to necessity rather than to confidence. As soon as Hutter and Hurry should be released, the party in the castle numbered two to one, as opposed to those on the raft, and escape by flight was out of the question, as the former had three bark canoes, to say nothing of the defences of the house and the ark. All this was understood by both parties, and it is probable the arrangement never could have been completed, had not the honest countenance and manner of Deerslayer wrought their usual effect on Rivenoak.

  “My brother knows I put faith in him,” said the latter, as he advanced with Hutter, whose legs had been released to enable the old man to ascend to the platform. “One scalp --one more beast.”

  “Stop, Mingo,” interrupted the hunter, “keep your prisoner a moment. I have to go and seek the means of payment.”

  This excuse, however, though true in part, was principally a fetch. Deerslayer left the platform, and entering the house, he directed Judith to collect all the arms, and to conceal them in her own room. He then spoke earnestly to the Delaware, who stood on guard as before, near the entrance of the building, put the three remaining castles in his pocket, and returned.

  “You are welcome back, to your old abode, Master Hutter,” said Deerslayer, as he helped the other up on the platform, slily passing into the hand of Rivenoak, at the same time, another of the castles. “You ’ll find your darters right glad to see you; and here’s Hetty come herself, to say as much in her own behalf.”

  Here the hunter stopped speaking of his own accord, and broke out into a hearty fit of his silent and peculiar laughter. Hurry’s legs were just released, and he had been placed on his feet. So tightly had the ligatures been drawn, that the use of his limbs was not immediately recovered, and the young giant presented, in good sooth, a very helpless and a somewhat ludicrous picture. It was this unusual spectacle, particularly the bewildered countenance, that excited the merriment of Deerslayer.

  “You look like a girdled pine in a clearin’, Harry Hurry, that is rocking in a gale,” said Deerslayer, checking his unseasonable mirth, more from delicacy to the others, than from any respect to the liberated captive. “I ’m glad, howsever, to see that you haven’t had your hair dressed by any of the Iroquois barbers, in your late visit to their camp.”

  “Harkee, Deerslayer,” returned the other, a little fiercely; “it will be prudent for you to deal less in mirth, and more in friendship, on this occasion. Act like a Christian, for once, and not like a laughing gal in a country school, when the master’s back is turned, and just tell me whether there’s any feet, or not, at the end of these legs of mine. I think I can see them, but as for feelin’, they might as well be down on the banks of the Mohawk, as where they seem to be.”

  “You ’ve come off whole, Hurry, and that ’s not a little,” answered the other, secretly passing to the Indian the remainder of the stipulated ransom, and making an earnest sign, at the same moment, for him to commence his retreat. “You ’ve come off whole, feet and all, and are only a little numb, from a tight fit of the withes. Natur’ll soon set the blood in motion, and then you may begin to dance, to
celebrate what I call a most wonderful and onexpected deliverance from a den of wolves.”

  Deerslayer released the arms of his friends, as each landed,

  CHAPTER XV.

  “As long as Edwarde rules thys lande,

  Ne quiet you wylle know;

  Your sonnes and husbandes shall be slayne,

  And brookes with bloode shall flowe.”

  “You leave youre goode and lawfulle kynge,

  Whenne ynne adversitye;

  Like me, untoe the true cause stycke,

  And for the true cause dye.”

  Chatterton. The calm of evening was again in singular contrast, while its gathering gloom was in as singular unison, with the passions of men. The sun was set, and the rays of the retiring luminary had ceased to gild the edges of the few clouds that had sufficient openings to admit the passage of its fading light. The canopy overhead was heavy and dense, promising another night of darkness, but the surface of the lake was scarcely disturbed by a ripple. There was a little air, though it scarce deserved to be termed wind. Still, being damp and heavy, it had a certain force. The party in the castle were as gloomy and silent as the scene. The two ransomed prisoners felt humbled and dishonoured, but their humility partook of the rancour of revenge. They were far more disposed to remember the indignity with which they had been treated during the last few hours of their captivity, than to feel grateful for the previous indulgence. Then that keen-sighted monitor conscience, by reminding them of the retributive justice of all they had endured, goaded them, rather to turn the tables on their enemies, than to accuse themselves. As for the others, they were thoughtful equally from regret and joy. Deerslayer and Judith felt most of the former sensation, though from very different causes, while Hetty for the moment was perfectly happy. The Delaware had also lively pictures of felicity in the prospect of so soon regaining his betrothed. Under such circumstances, and in this mood, all were taking the evening meal.

  “Old Tom!” cried Hurry, bursting into a fit of boisterous laughter, “you look’d amazin’ly like a tethered bear, as you was stretched on them hemlock boughs, and I only wonder you didn’t growl more. Well, it’s over, and syth’s and lamentations won’t mend the matter! There’s the blackguard Rivenoak, he that brought us off, has an oncommon scalp, and I’d give as much for it myself as the Colony. Yes, I feel as rich as the governor, in these matters now, and will lay down with them doubloon for doubloon. Judith, darling, did you mourn for me much, when I was in the hands of the Philipsteins.”

  The last were a family of German descent on the Mohawk, to whom Hurry had a great antipathy, and whom he had confounded with the enemies of Judea.

  “Our tears have raised the lake, Harry March, as you might have seen by the shore!” returned Judith, with a feigned levity that she was far from feeling. “That Hetty and I should have grieved for father, was to be expected; but we fairly rained tears for you.”

  “We were sorry for poor Hurry, as well as for father, Judith!” put in her innocent and unconscious sister.

  “True, girl, true; but we feel sorrow for everybody that’s in trouble, you know,” returned the other in a quick, admonitory manner, and a low tone. “Nevertheless, we are glad to see you, Master March, and out of the hands of the Philipsteins, too.”

  “Yes, they’re a bad set, and so is the other brood of ’em, down on the river. It’s a wonderment to me, how you got us off, Deerslayer; and I forgive you the interference that prevented my doin’ justice on that vagabond, for this small service. Let us into the secret, that we may do you the same good turn, at need. Was it by lying, or by coaxing?”

  “By neither, Hurry, but by buying. We paid a ransom for you both, and that, too, at a price so high, you had well be on your guard ag’in another captyvement, lest our stock of goods shouldn’t hold out.”

  “A ransom! -- Old Tom has paid the fiddler, then, for nothing of mine would have bought off the hair, much less the skin. I didn’t think men as keen set as them vagabonds, would let a fellow up so easy, when they had him fairly at a close hug, and floored. But money is money, and somehow it’s unnat’ral hard to withstand. Indian, or white man, ’tis pretty much the same. It must be owned Judith, there’s a considerable of human natur’ in mankind ginirally, after all!”

  Hutter now rose, and signing to Deerslayer, he led him to an inner room, where, in answer to his questions, he first learned the price that had been paid for his release. The old man expressed neither resentment nor surprise at the inroad that had been made on his chest, though he did manifest some curiosity to know how far the investigation of its contents had been carried. He also inquired where the key had been found. The habitual frankness of Deerslayer prevented any prevarication, and the conference soon terminated by the return of the two to the outer room, or that which served for the double purpose of parlour and kitchen.

  “I wonder if it ’s peace or war, between us and the savages!” exclaimed Hurry, just as Deerslayer, who had paused for a single instant, listened attentively, and was passing through the outer door without stopping. “This givin’ up captives has a friendly look, and when men have traded together, on a fair and honourable footing, they ought to part fri’nds, for that occasion, at least. Come back, Deerslayer, and let us have your judgment, for I ’m beginnin’ to think more of you, since your late behaviour, than I used to do.”

  “There’s an answer to your question, Hurry, since you ’re in such haste to come ag’in to blows.”

  As Deerslayer spoke, he threw on the table, on which the other was reclining with one elbow, a sort of miniature fagot, composed of a dozen sticks bound tightly together with a deer-skin thong. March seized it eagerly, and holding it close to a blazing knot of pine that lay on the hearth, and which gave out all the light there was in the room, ascertained that the ends of the several sticks had been dipped in blood.

  “If this isn’t plain English,” said the reckless frontier man, “it ’s plain Indian! Here’s what they call a dicliration of war, down at York, Judith. How did you come by this defiance, Deerslayer?”

  “Fairly enough. It lay, not a minut’ since, in what you call Floatin’ Tom’s door yard.”

  “How came it there? It never fell from the clouds, Judith, as little toads sometimes do, and then it don’t rain. You must prove where it come from, Deerslayer, or we shall suspect some design to skear them that would have lost their wits long ago, if fear could drive ’em away.”

  Deerslayer had approached a window, and cast a glance out of it, on the dark aspect of the lake. As if satisfied with what he beheld, he drew near Hurry, and took the bundle of sticks into his own hand, examining it attentively.

  “Yes, this is an Indian dicliration of war, sure enough,” he said, “and it ’s a proof how little you ’re suited to be on the path it has travelled, Harry March, that it has got here, and you never the wiser, as to the means. The savages may have left the scalp on your head, but they must have taken off the ears; else you ’d have heard the stirring of the water made by the lad as he come off ag’in, on his two logs. His ar’n’d was to throw these sticks at our door, as much as to say, we ’ve struck the war-pool since the trade, and the next thing will be to strike you.”

  “The prowling wolves! But hand me that rifle, Judith, and I ’ll send an answer back to the vagabonds through their messenger.”

  “Not while I stand by, Master March,” coolly put in Deerslayer, motioning for the other to forbear. “Faith is faith, whether given to a red-skin, or to a Christian. The lad lighted a knot, and came off fairly, under its blaze, to give us this warning; and no man here should harm him, while empl’yed on such an ar’n’d. There ’s no use in words, for the boy is too cunning to leave the knot burning, now his business is done, and the night is already too dark for a rifle to have any sartainty.”

  “That may be true enough, as to a gun, but there’s virtue still in a canoe,” answered Hurry, passing towards the door with enormous strides, carrying a rifle in his hands. “The being do
esn’t live that shall stop me from following, and bringing back that riptyle’s scalp. The more on ’em that you crush in the egg, the fewer there ’ll be to dart at you in the woods!”

  Judith trembled like the aspen, she scarce knew why herself, though there was the prospect of a scene of violence; for, if Hurry was fierce, and overbearing in the consciousness of his vast strength, Deerslayer had about him the calm determination that promises greater perseverance, and a resolution more likely to effect its object. It was the stern, resolute eye of the latter, rather than the noisy vehemence of the first, that excited her apprehensions. Hurry soon reached the spot where the canoe was fastened, but not before Deerslayer had spoke in a quick, earnest voice to the Serpent, in Delaware. The latter had been the first, in truth, to hear the sounds of the oars, and he had gone upon the platform, in jealous watchfulness. The light satisfied him that a message was coming, and when the boy cast his bundle of sticks at his feet, it neither moved his anger, nor induced surprise. He merely stood at watch, rifle in hand, to make certain that no treachery lay behind the defiance. As Deerslayer now called to him, he stepped into the canoe, and quick as thought removed the paddles. Hurry was furious when he found that he was deprived of the means of proceeding. He first approached the Indian with loud menaces, and even Deerslayer stood aghast at the probable consequences. March shook his sledge-hammer fists, and flourished his arms, as he drew near the Indian, and all expected he would attempt to fell the Delaware to the earth; one of them, at least, was well aware that such an experiment would be followed by immediate bloodshed. But even Hurry was awed by the stern composure of the chief, and he, too, knew that such a man was not to be outraged with impunity; he, therefore, turned to vent his rage on Deerslayer, where he foresaw no consequences so terrible. What might have been the result of this second demonstration, if completed, is unknown, since it was never made.