After this simple explanation was made the serjeant was so weak as to need repose, and his companions, while they ministered to his wants, suffered some time to pass in silence. Pathfinder took the occasion, to reconnoitre from the loops and the roof, and he examined the condition of the rifles of which there were a dozen kept in the building, the soldiers having used their regimental muskets in the expedition. But, Mabel never left her father’s side for an instant, and when by his breathing, she fancied he slept, she bent her knees and prayed.
The half hour that succeeded was awfully solemn and still. The moccasin of Pathfinder was barely heard over head, and occasionally the sound of the breech of a rifle fell upon the floor; for he was busied in examining the pieces, with a view to ascertain the state of their charges, and their primings. Beyond this, nothing was so loud as the breathing of the wounded man. Mabel’s heart yearned to be in communication with the father she was so soon to lose, and yet she would not disturb his apparent repose. But Dunham slept not. He was in that state when the world suddenly loses its attractions, its illusions, and its power, and the unknown future fills the mind, with its conjectures, its revelations and its immensity. He had been a moral man, for one of his mode of life, but he had thought little of this all important moment. Had the din of battle been ringing in his ears, his martial ardor might have endured to the end, but, there, in the silence of that nearly untenanted block-house, with no sound to enliven him, no appeal to keep alive factitious sentiment, no hope of victory to impel, things began to appear in their true colours, and this state of being to be estimated at its just value. He would have given treasures for religious consolation, and yet he knew not where to turn to seek it. He thought of Pathfinder, but he distrusted his knowledge. He thought of Mabel, but for the parent to appeal to the child for such succor, appeared like reversing the order of nature. Then it was that he felt the full responsibility of the parental character, and had some clear glimpses of the manner in which he himself had discharged the trust towards an orphan child. While thoughts like these were rising in his mind, Mabel, who watched the slightest change in his breathing, heard a guarded knock at the door. Supposing it might be Chingachgook, she rose, undid two of the bars, and held the third in her hand, as she asked who was there. The answer was in her uncle’s voice, and he implored her to give him immediate admission. Without an instant of hesitation, she turned the bar, and Cap entered. He had barely passed the opening, when Mabel closed the door again, and secured it as before, for practice had rendered her expert, in this portion of her duties.
The sturdy seaman, when he had made sure of the state of his brother-in-law, and that Mabel as well as himself, was safe, was softened nearly to tears. His own appearance he explained, by saying that he had been carelessly guarded, under the impression that he and the Quarter Master were sleeping under the fumes of liquor, with which they had been plied, with a view to keep them quiet in the expected engagement. Muir had been left asleep, or seeming to sleep, but Cap had run into the bushes, on the alarm of the attack, and having found Pathfinder’s canoe, had only succeeded, at that moment, in getting to the block-house, whither he had come with the kind intent of escaping with his niece, by water. It is scarcely necessary to say, that he changed his plan, when he ascertained the state of the serjeant, and the apparent security of his present quarters.
“If the worst comes to the worst, Master Pathfinder,” he said, “we must strike, and that will entitle us to quarter. We owe it to our manhood to hold out a reasonable time, and to ourselves to haul down the ensign in season to make saving conditions. I wished Master Muir to do the same thing, when we were captured by these chaps you call vagabonds—and rightly are they named, for viler vagabonds do not walk the earth—”
“You’ve found out their characters!” interrupted Pathfinder, who was always as ready to chime in with abuse of the Mingos, as with the praises of his friends—“Now, had you fallen into the hands of the Delawares, you would have l’arned the difference!”
“Well, to me, they seem much of a muchness; blackguards fore and aft, always excepting our friend the Serpent, who is a gentleman, for an Injin. But, when these savages made the assault on us, killing Corporal McNab, and his men, as if they had been so many rabbits, Lt. Muir and myself took refuge in one of the holes of this here island, of which there are so many among the rocks—regular geological under-ground burrows made by the water, as the Lieutenant says,—and there we remained stowed away like two leaguers in a ship’s hold, until we gave out for want of grub. A man may say that grub is the foundation of human nature. I desired the Quarter Master to make terms, for we could have defended ourselves for an hour or two in the place, bad as it was, but he declined on the ground that the knaves would’n’t keep faith, if any of them were hurt, and so there was no use in asking them to. I consented to strike, on two principles; one, that we might be said to have struck already; for running below is generally thought to be giving up the ship; and the other, that we had an enemy in our stomachs that was more formidable in his attacks, than the enemy on deck. Hunger is a d____le circumstance, as any man who has lived on it eight and forty hours will acknowledge.”
“Uncle!” said Mabel, in a mournful voice, and with an expostulating manner, “my poor father is sadly, sadly hurt!”
“True, Magnet, true—I will sit by him, and do my best at consolation. Are the bars well fastened, girl, for, on such an occasion, the mind should be tranquil and undisturbed.”
“We are safe, I believe, from all but this heavy blow of Providence.”
“Well, then, Magnet, do you go up to the deck above, and try to compose yourself, while Pathfinder runs aloft and takes a look out from the cross-trees. Your father may wish to say something to me, in private, and it may be well to leave us alone. These are solemn scenes, and inexperienced people, like myself, do not always wish what they say to be overheard.”
Although the idea of her uncle’s affording religious consolation by the side of a death-bed, certainly never obtruded itself on the imagination of Mabel, she thought there might be a propriety in the request, with which she was unacquainted, and she complied accordingly. Pathfinder had already ascended to the roof, to make his survey, and the brothers-in-law were left alone. Cap took a seat by the side of the serjeant, and bethought him, seriously, of the grave duty he had before him. A silence of several minutes succeeded, during which brief space, the mariner was digesting the substance of his intended discourse.
“I must say, Serjeant Dunham,” Cap at length commenced in his peculiar manner, “that there has been mismanagement somewhere in this unhappy expedition, and, the present being an occasion when truth ought to be spoken, and nothing but the truth, I feel it my duty to say as much, in plain language. In short, serjeant, on this point there cannot well be two opinions, for, seaman as I am, and no soldier, I can see several errors myself, that it needs no great education to detect.”
“What would you have, Brother Cap,” returned the other in a feeble voice—“what is done is done; and it is now too late to remedy it.”
“Very true, Brother Dunham, but not to repent of it. The good book tells us, it is never too late to repent, and I’ve always heard that this is the precious moment. If you’ve any thing on your mind, serjeant, hoist it out freely, for you know, you trust it to a friend. You were my own sister’s husband, and poor little Magnet is my own sister’s daughter, and living, or dead, I shall always look upon you, as a brother. It’s a thousand pities that you did’n’t lie off and on, with the boats, and send a canoe ahead to reconnoitre, in which case your command would have been saved, and this disaster would not have befallen us all. Well, serjeant, we are all mortal, that is some consolation, I make no doubt, and if you go before a little, why, we must follow. Yes, that must give him consolation.”
“I know all this, Brother Cap, and hope I’m prepared to meet a soldier’s fate. There is poor Mabel—”
“Ay, ay—that’s a heavy drag, I know, but you would’n’t
take her with you, if you could, serjeant, and so the better way is to make as light of the separation, as you can. Mabel is a good girl, and so was her mother before her; she was my sister, and it shall be my care to see that her daughter gets a good husband, if our lives and scalps are spared; for I suppose no one would care about entering into a family that has no scalps.”
“Brother, my child is betrothed—she will become the wife of Pathfinder.”
“Well, Brother Dunham, every man has his opinions, and his manner of viewing things, and to my notion this match will be any thing but agreeable to Mabel. I have no objection to the age of the man; I’m not one of them that thinks it is necessary to be a boy to make a girl happy, but on the whole I prefer a man of about fifty for a husband; still, there ought not to be any circumstance between the parties to make them unhappy. Circumstances play the devil with materimony, and I set it down as one, that Pathfinder do’n’t know as much as my niece. You’ve seen but little of the girl, serjeant, and have not got the run of her knowledge; but, let her pay it out freely, as she will do when she gets to be thoroughly acquainted, and you’ll fall in with but few schoolmasters that can keep their luffs in her company.”
“She’s a good child—a dear good child—” muttered the serjeant, his eyes filling with tears—“and it is my misfortune that I have seen so little of her.”
“She is, indeed, a good girl, and knows altogether too much for poor Pathfinder, who is a reasonable man and an experienced man, in his own way, but who has no more idea of the main chance than you have of spherical trigonometry, serjeant.”
“Ah! Brother Cap, had Pathfinder been with us in the boats, this sad affair might not have happened!”
“That is quite likely, for his worst enemy will allow that the man is a good guide; but, serjeant, if the truth must be spoken, you have managed this expedition in a loose way, altogether; you should have hove-to off your haven, and sent in a boat to reconnoitre, as I told you before. That is a matter to be repented of, and I tell it to you, because truth, in such a case, ought to be spoken.”
“My errors are dearly paid for, Brother, and poor Mabel, I fear, will be the sufferer. I think, however, that the calamity would not have happened, had there not been treason. I fear me, Brother, that Jasper Eau douce has played us false!”
“That is just my notion, for this fresh-water life, must sooner or later undermine any man’s morals. Lieutenant Muir and myself talked this matter over, while we lay in a bit of a hole, out here on this island, and we both came to the conclusion that nothing short of Jasper’s treachery could have brought us all into this infernal scrape. Well, serjeant, you had better compose your mind, and think of other matters, for, when a vessel is about to enter a strange port, it is more prudent to think of the anchorage inside, than to be under-running all the events that have turned up during the v’y’ge. There’s the logbook expressly to note all these matters in, and what stands there, must form the column of figures that’s to be footed up for, or against us. How, now, Pathfinder; is there any thing in the wind, that you come down the ladder like an Indian in the wake of a scalp?”
The guide raised a finger, for silence, and then beckoned to Cap to ascend the first ladder, and to allow Mabel to take his place, at the side of the serjeant.
“We must be prudent, and we must be bold, too,” he said, in a low voice. “The riptyles are in earnest in their intention to fire the block, for they know there is now nothing to be gained by letting it stand. I hear the voice of that vagabond Arrowhead, among them, and he is urging them to set about their diviltry this very night. We must be stirring, Saltwater, and doing too. Luckily, there are four or five barrels of water in the block, and these are something towards a siege. My reckoning is wrong, too, or we shall yet reap some advantage from that honest fellow the Sarpent, being at liberty.”
Cap did not wait for a second invitation, but starting up, he was soon in the upper room, with Pathfinder, while Mabel took his post at the side of her father’s humble bed. Pathfinder had opened a loop, having so far concealed the light that it would not expose him to a treacherous shot, and, expecting a summons, he stood with his face near the hole, ready to answer. The stillness that succeeded, was at length broken by the voice of Muir.
“Master Pathfinder,” called out the Scotchman—“a friend summons you to a parley. Come freely to one of the loops, for you’ve nothing to fear, so long as you are in converse with an officer of the 55th—”
“What is your will, Quarter Master—what is your will? I know the 55th, and believe it to be a brave rigiment, though I rather incline to the 60th, as my favorite, and to the Delawares more than to either. But what would you have, Quarter Master; it must be a pressing errand that brings you under the loops of a block house, at this hour of the night, with the sartainty of Killdeer’s being inside of it.”
“Oh! you’ll no harm a friend, Pathfinder, I’m certain, and that’s my security. You’re a man of judgment, and have gained too great a name on this frontier for bravery, to feel the necessity of fool-hardiness to obtain a character. You’ll very well understand, my good friend, there is as much credit to be gained by submitting gracefully, when resistance becomes impossible, as by obstinately holding out contrary to the rules of war. The enemy is too strong for us, my brave comrade, and I come to counsel you to give up the block, on condition of being treated as a prisoner of war.”
“I thank you for this advice, Quarter Master, which is the more acceptable, as it costs nothing. But, I do not think it belongs to my gifts to yield a place like this, while food and water last.”
“Well, I’d be the last, Pathfinder, to recommend any thing against so brave a resolution, did I see the means of maintaining it. But ye’ll remember that Master Cap has fallen—”
“Not he—not he,” roared the individual in question through another loop—“so far from that, Lieutenant, he has risen to the height of this here fortification, and has no mind to put his head of hair into the hands of such barbers, again, so long as he can help it. I look upon this block-house as a circumstance, and have no mind to throw it away.”
“If that is a living voice,” returned Muir, “I am glad to hear it, for we all thought the man had fallen in the late fearful confusion! But, Master Pathfinder, although ye’re enjoying the society of your friend Cap, and a great pleasure do I know it to be, by the experience of two days and a night passed in a hole in the earth, we’ve lost that of Serjeant Dunham, who has fallen, with all the brave men he led in the late expedition. Lundie would have it so, though it would have been more discreet and becoming to send a commissioned officer in command. Dunham was a brave man, notwithstanding, and shall have justice done his memory. In short, we have all acted for the best, and that is as much as could be said in favor of Prince Eugene, the Duke of Marlborough or the Great Earl of Stair himself.”
“You’re wrong ag’in, Quarter Master, you’re wrong ag’in,” answered Pathfinder, resorting to a ruse to magnify his force. “The sarjeant is safe in the block too, where, one might say, the whole family is collected.”
“Well, I rejoice to hear it, for we had certainly counted the serjeant among the slain. If pretty Mabel is in the block, still, let her not delay an instant, for Heaven’s sake, in quitting it, for the enemy is about to put it to the trial by fire. Ye know the potency of that dread element, and will be acting more like the discreet and experienced warrior ye’re universally allowed to be, in yielding a place you canna’ defend, than in drawing down ruin on yourself and companions.”
“I know the potency of fire, as you call it, Quarter Master, and am not to be told, at this late hour, that it can be used for something else, besides cooking a dinner. But, I make no doubt, you’ve heard of the potency of Killdeer, and the man who attempts to lay a pile of brush ag’in these logs, will get a taste of his power. As for arrows, it is not in their gift, to set this building on fire, for we’ve no shingles on our roof, but good solid logs and green bark, and plenty of water besides.
The roof is so flat, too, as you know yourself, Quarter Master, that we can walk on it, and so no danger on that score, while water lasts. I’m peaceable enough, if let alone, but he who endivors to burn this block over my head will find the fire squinched in his own blood.”
“This is idle and romantic talk, Pathfinder, and ye’ll no maintain it yourself when ye come to meditate on the realities. I hope ye’ll no gainsay the loyalty, or the courage of the 55th, and I feel convinced that a council of war would decide on the propriety of a surrender, forthwith. Na’—na’—Pathfinder, foolhardiness is na’ mair like the bravery o’ Wallace, or Bruce, than Albany on the Hudson is like the old town of Edinbro’.”
The Leatherstocking Tales II Page 46
