“That’s not Delaware made,” returned Deerslayer, examining the worn and rejected covering for the foot with a cautious eye. “I’m too young on a war-path to be positive, but I should say that moccasin has a northern look, and comes from beyond the Great Lakes.”
“If such is the case, we ought not to lie here a minute longer than is necessary,” said Hutter, glancing through the leaves of his cover, as if he already distrusted the presence of an enemy, on the opposite shore of the narrow and sinuous stream. “It wants but an hour, or so, of night, and to move in the dark, will be impossible, without making a noise that would betray us. Did you hear the echo of a piece, in the mountains, half an hour since?”
“Yes, old man, and heard the piece itself,” answered Hurry, who now felt the indiscretion of which he had been guilty, “for the last was fired from my own shoulder.”
“I feared it came from the French Indians; still, it may put them on the look-out, and be a means of discovering us. You did wrong to fire, in war-time, unless there was good occasion.”
“So I begin to think myself, uncle Tom; and yet, if a man can’t trust himself to let off his rifle in a wilderness that is a thousand miles square, lest some inimy should hear it, where’s the use in carrying one!”
Hutter now held a long consultation with his two guests, in which the parties came to a true understanding of their situation. He explained the difficulty that would exist in attempting to get the Ark out of so swift, and narrow a stream in the dark, without making a noise that could not fail to attract Indian ears. Any strollers in their vicinity, would keep near the river, or the lake, but the former had swampy shores, in many places, and was both so crooked, and so fringed with bushes, that it was quite possible to move by day-light without incurring much danger of being seen. More was to be apprehended, perhaps, from the ear than from the eye, especially as long as they were in the short, straitened, and canopied reaches of the stream.
“I never drop down into this cover, which is handy to my traps, and safer than the lake from curious eyes, without providing the means of getting out ag’in,” continued this singular being, “and that is easier done by a pull than a push. My anchor is now lying above the suction, in the open lake, and here is a line, you see, to haul us up to it. Without some such help, a single pair of hands would make heavy work, in forcing a scow, like this, up stream. I have a sort of a crab too, that lightens the pull on occasion. Jude can use the oar astarn, as well as myself, and when we fear no enimy, to get out of the river gives us but little trouble.”
“What should we gain, Master Hutter, by changing the position?” asked Deerslayer, with a good deal of earnestness. “This is a safe cover, and a stout defence might be made from the inside of this cabin. I’ve never fou’t, unless in the way of traditions, but it seems to me, we might beat off twenty Mingos, with palisades like these afore us.”
“Ay—ay; you’ve never fought, except in traditions, that’s plain enough, young man! Did you ever see as broad a sheet of water as this above us, before you came in upon it, with Hurry?”
“I can’t say that I ever did,” Deerslayer answered, modestly. “Youth is the time to l’arn, and I’m far from wishing to raise my voice in council, afore it is justified by exper’ence.”
“Well, then, I’ll teach you the disadvantage of fighting in this position, and the advantage of taking to the open lake. Here, you may see, the savages will know where to aim every shot, and it would be too much to hope that some would not find their way through the crevices of the logs. Now, on the other hand, we should have nothing but a forest to aim at. Then we are not safe from fire, here, the bark of this roof being little better than so much kindling wood. The Castle, too, might be entered and ransacked, in my absence, and all my possessions overrun and destroyed. Once in the lake, we can be attacked only in boats, or on rafts, shall have a fair chance with the enemy, and can protect the Castle with the Ark. Do you understand this reasoning, youngster?”
“It sounds well—yes, it has a rational sound, and I’ll not gainsay it.”
“Well, old Tom,” cried Hurry, “if we are to move, the sooner we make a beginning, the sooner we shall know whether we are to have our scalps for night-caps, or not.”
As this proposition was self-evident, no one denied its justice. The three men, after a short preliminary explanation, now set about their preparations to move the Ark in earnest. The slight fastenings were quickly loosened, and by hauling on the line, the heavy craft slowly emerged from the covers. It was no sooner free from the incumbrance of the branches, than it swung into the stream, sheering quite close to the western shore by the force of the current. Not a soul on board, heard the rustling of the branches as the cabin came against the bushes and trees of the western bank, without a feeling of uneasiness, for no one knew at what moment, or in what place, a secret and murderous enemy might unmask himself. Perhaps the gloomy light, that still struggled through the impending canopy of leaves, or found its way through the narrow, riband-like opening which seemed to mark, in the air above, the course of the river that flowed beneath, aided in augmenting the appearance of the danger, for it was little more than sufficient to render objects visible, without giving up all their outlines at a glance. Although the sun had not absolutely set, it had withdrawn its direct rays from the valley, and the hues of evening were beginning to gather around objects that stood uncovered, rendering those within the shadows of the woods, still more sombre and gloomy.
No interruption followed the movement, however, and, as the men continued to haul on the line, the Ark passed steadily ahead, the great breadth of the scow preventing its sinking into the water, and from offering much resistance to the progress of the swift element beneath its bottom. Hutter, too, had adopted a precaution, suggested by experience, which might have done credit to a seaman, and which completely prevented any of the annoyances and obstacles which, otherwise, would have attended the short turns of the river. As the Ark descended, heavy stones, attached to the line, were dropped in the centre of the stream, forming local anchors, each of which was kept from dragging by the assistance of those above it, until the uppermost of all was reached, which got its ‘backing’ from the anchor, or grapnel, that lay well out in the lake. In consequence of this expedient, the Ark floated clear of the incumbrances of the shore, against which it would otherwise have been unavoidably hauled at every turn, producing embarrassments that Hutter, single-handed, would have found it very difficult to overcome.
Favored by this foresight, and stimulated by the apprehensions of discovery, Floating Tom and his two athletic companions hauled the Ark ahead, with quite as much rapidity as comported with the strength of the line. At every turn in the stream a stone was raised from the bottom, when the direction of the scow changed to one that pointed towards the stone that lay above. In this manner, with the channel buoyed out for him, as a sailor might term it, did Hutter move forward, occasionally urging his friends in a low and guarded voice, to increase their exertions, and, then, as occasions offered, warning them against efforts that might, at particular moments, endanger all by too much zeal. In spite of their long familiarity with the woods, the gloomy character of the shaded river added to the uneasiness that each felt, and when the Ark reached the first bend in the Susquehannah, and the eye caught a glimpse of the broader expanse of the lake, all felt a relief, that perhaps none would have been willing to confess. Here the last stone was raised from the bottom, and the line led directly towards the grapnel, which, as Hutter had explained, was dropped above the suction of the current.
“Thank God!” ejaculated Hurry, “there is day-light, and we shall soon have a chance of seeing our inimies, if we are to feel ’em.”
“That is more than you, or any man can say,” growled Hutter. “There is no spot so likely to harbor a party, as the shore around the outlet, and the moment we clear these trees, and get into open water will be the most trying time, since it will leave the enemy a cover, while it puts us out of one. Judith,
girl; do you and Hetty leave the oar to take care of itself, and go within the cabin, and be mindful not to show your faces at a window, for they who will look at them, won’t stop to praise their beauty. And, now Hurry, we’ll step into this outer room, ourselves, and haul through the door, where we shall all be safe from a surprise at least. Friend Deerslayer, as the current is lighter, and the line has all the strain on it that is prudent, do you keep moving from window to window, taking care not to let your head be seen, if you set any value on your life. No one knows, when or where, we shall hear from our neighbors.”
Deerslayer complied, with a sensation that had nothing in common with fear, but which had all the interest of a perfectly novel and a most exciting situation. For the first time in his life, he was in the vicinity of enemies, or had good reason to think so, and that too, under all the thrilling circumstances of Indian surprises, and Indian artifices. As he took his stand at a window, the Ark was just passing through the narrowest part of the stream, a point where the water first entered what was properly termed the river, and where the trees fairly interlocked over-head, causing the current to rush into an arch of verdure, a feature as appropriate and peculiar to the country, perhaps, as that of Switzerland, where the rivers come rushing literally from chambers of ice.
The Ark was in the act of passing the last curve of this leafy entrance, as Deerslayer, having examined all that could be seen of the eastern bank of the river, crossed the room to look from the opposite window at the western. His arrival at this aperture was most opportune, for he had no sooner placed his eye at a crack, than a sight met his gaze that might well have alarmed a sentinel so young and inexperienced. A sapling overhung the water, in nearly half a circle, having first grown towards the light, and then been pressed down into this form by the weight of the snows; a circumstance of common occurrence in the American woods. On this tree no less than six Indians had already appeared, others standing ready to follow them as they left room, each evidently bent on running out on the trunk, and dropping on the roof of the Ark, as it passed beneath. This would have been an exploit of no great difficulty, the inclination of the tree admitting of an easy passage, the adjoining branches offering ample support for the hands, and the fall being too trifling to be apprehended. When Deerslayer first saw this party, it was just unmasking itself, by ascending the part of the tree nearest to the earth, or that which was much the most difficult to overcome, and his knowledge of Indian habits told him, at once, that they were all in their war paint, and belonged to a hostile tribe.
“Pull, Hurry,” he cried; “pull for your life, and as you love Judith Hutter. Pull, man, pull!”
This call was made to one that the young man knew had the strength of a giant. It was so earnest and solemn, that both Hutter and March felt it was not idly given, and they applied all their force to the line simultaneously, and at a most critical moment. The scow redoubled its motion, and seemed to glide from under the tree, as if conscious of the danger that was impending over head. Perceiving that they were discovered, the Indians uttered the fearful war-whoop, and running forward on the tree leaped desperately towards their fancied prize. There were six on the tree and each made the effort. All but their leader fell into the river, more or less distant from the Ark, as they came sooner or later to the leaping place. The chief who had taken the dangerous post in advance, having an earlier opportunity than the others, struck the scow just within the stern. The fall proving so much greater than he had anticipated, he was slightly stunned, and for a moment he remained half bent and unconscious of his situation. At this instant, Judith rushed from her cabin, her beauty heightened by the excitement that produced the bold act, which flushed her cheek to crimson, and throwing all her strength into the effort, she pushed the intruder over the edge of the scow, headlong into the river. This decided feat was no sooner accomplished than the woman resumed her sway; Judith looked over the stern to ascertain what had become of the man, and the expression of her eyes softened to concern; next, her cheek crimsoned between shame and surprise at her own temerity, and then she laughed in her own merry and sweet manner. All this occupied less than a minute, when the arm of Deerslayer was thrown around her waist, and she was dragged swiftly within the protection of the cabin. This retreat was not effected too soon. Scarcely were the two in safety, when the forest was filled with yells, and bullets began to patter against the logs.
The Ark being in swift motion, all this while, it was beyond the danger of pursuit by the time these little events had occurred, and the savages, as soon as the first burst of their anger had subsided, ceased firing, with the consciousness that they were expending their ammunition in vain. When the scow came up over her grapnel, Hutter tripped the latter in a way not to impede the motion, and being now beyond the influence of the current, the vessel continued to drift ahead, until fairly in the open lake, though still near enough to the land to render exposure to a rifle-bullet dangerous. Hutter and March got out two small sweeps, and covered by the cabin, they soon urged the Ark far enough from the shore, to leave no inducement to their enemies to make any further attempt to injure them.
Chapter V
“Why, let the strucken deer go weep,
The hart ungalled play:
For some must watch, while some must sleep;
Thus runs the world away.”
—Hamlet, III.ii.271–74.
* * *
ANOTHER CONSULTATION took place, in the forward part of the scow, at which both Judith and Hetty were present. As no danger could now approach unseen, immediate uneasiness had given place to the concern which attended the conviction that enemies were, in considerable force, on the shores of the lake, and that they might be sure no practicable means of accomplishing their own destruction would be neglected. As a matter of course, Hutter felt these truths the deepest, his daughters having an habitual reliance on his resources, and knowing too little to appreciate fully all the risks they ran, while his male companions were at liberty to quit him at any moment they saw fit. His first remark showed that he had an eye to the latter circumstance, and might have betrayed to a keen observer, the apprehension that was, just then, uppermost.
“We’ve a great advantage over the Iroquois, or the enemy, whoever they are, in being afloat,” he said. “There’s not a canoe on the lake, that I do’n’t know where it’s hid, and now yours is here, Hurry, there are but three more on the land, and they’re so snug in hollow logs, that I do’n’t believe the Indians could find them, let them try ever so long.”
“There’s no telling that—no one can say that,” put in Deerslayer. “A hound is not more sartain on the scent, than a red-skin when he expects to get any thing by it. Let this party see scalps afore ’em, or plunder, or honor, accordin’ to their idees of what honor is, and ’t’will be a tight log that hides a canoe from their eyes.”
“You’re right, Deerslayer,” cried Harry March; “you’re downright gospel in this matter, and I rej’ice that my bunch of bark is safe enough, here, within reach of my arm. I calcilate they’ll be at all the rest of the canoes, afore to-morrow night, if they are in ra’al ’arnest to smoke you out, old Tom, and we may as well overhaul our paddles for a pull.”
Hutter made no immediate reply. He looked about him in silence for quite a minute, examining the sky, the lake, and the belt of forest which enclosed it, as it might be hermetically, like one consulting their signs. Nor did he find any alarming symptoms. The boundless woods were sleeping in the deep repose of nature, the heavens were placid, but still luminous with the light of the retreating sun, while the lake looked more lovely and calm than it had before done that day. It was a scene altogether soothing, and of a character to lull the passions into a species of holy calm. How far this effect was produced, however, on the party in the Ark must appear in the progress of our narrative.
“Judith,” called out the father, when he had taken this close but short survey of the omens, “night is at hand; find our friends food; a long march gives a sharp appet
ite.”
“We’re not starving, Master Hutter,” March observed, “for we filled up just as we reached the lake, and for one, I prefar the company of Jude, even to her supper. This quiet evening is very agreeable to sit by her side.”
“Natur’ is natur’,” objected Hutter, “and must be fed. Judith, see to the meal, and take your sister to help you. I’ve a little discourse to hold with you, friends,” he continued, as soon as his daughters were out of hearing, “and wish the girls away. You see my situation, and I should like to hear your opinions concerning what is best to be done. Three times have I been burnt out, already, but that was on the shore, and I’ve considered myself as pretty safe, ever since I got the castle built, and the Ark afloat. My other accidents, however, happened in peaceable times, being nothing more than such flurries as a man must meet with, in the woods; but this matter looks serious, and your ideas would greatly relieve my mind.”
“It’s my notion, old Tom, that you, and your huts, and your traps, and your whole possessions, hereaway, are in desperate j’iparday,” returned the matter-of-fact Hurry, who saw no use in concealment; “accordin’ to my idees of valie, they’re altogether not worth half as much to-day, as they was yesterday, nor would I give more for ’em, taking the pay in skins.”
“Then I’ve children!—” continued the father, making the allusion in a way that it might have puzzled even an indifferent observer to say was intended as a bait, or as an exclamation of paternal concern. “Daughters, as you know, Hurry, and good girls too, I may say, though I am their father.”
“A man may say any thing, Master Hutter, particularily when pressed by time and circumstances. You’ve darters, as you say, and one of them has’n’t her equal on the frontiers, for good-looks, whatever she may have for good behaviour. As for poor Hetty, she’s Hetty Hutter, and that’s as much as one can say about the poor thing. Give me Jude, if her conduct was only equal to her looks.”
The Leatherstocking Tales II Page 63
