The Leatherstocking Tales II

by James Fenimore Cooper

  “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 coul’n’t fly in the face of his Providence by forgetting my birth and natur’. White he made me, and white I shall 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 glory belongs to the tribe; it must not be lost.”

  “This is easy talking, but ’twill 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 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 As this superseded the necessity of rowing—an occupation that an Indian would not be likely to desire—Deerslayer, Chingachgook and Judith seated themselves in the stern of the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 companions, 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 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 defensive, 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 tone; 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.

  “Tis a gloomy night—” observed the girl, after a pause of several minutes—“I hope we may be able to find the castle.”

  “Little fear of our missing that, if we keep this path, in the middle of the lake,” returned the young man. “Natur’ has made us a road here, and, dim as it is, there’ll be little difficulty in following it.”

  “Do you hear nothing, Deerslayer?—It seemed as if the water was stirring quite near us!”

  “Sartainly something did move the water, oncommon like; it must have been a fish. Them creatur’s prey upon each other like men, and animals on the land; one has leaped into the air, and fallen hard, back into his own element. ’Tis of little use, Judith, for any to strive to get out of their elements, since it’s natur’ to stay in ’em, and natur’ will have its way. Ha! That sounds like a paddle, used with more than common caution!”

  At this moment the Delaware bent forward, and pointed significantly into the boundary of gloom, as if some object had suddenly caught his eye. Both Deerslayer and Judith followed the direction of his gesture, and each got a view of a canoe at the same instant. The glimpse of this startling neighbor was dim, and to eyes less practised, it might have been uncertain; though to those in the Ark, the object was evidently a canoe, with a single individual in it; the latter, standing erect, and paddling. How many lay concealed in its bottom, of course could not be known. Flight, by means of oars, from a bark canoe impelled by vigorous and skilful hands, was utterly impracticable, and each of the men seized his rifle, in expectation of a conflict.

  “I can easily bring down the paddler,” whispered Deerslayer, “but we’ll first hail him, and ask his ar’n’d.” Then raising his voice, he continued in a solemn manner—“hold! If ye come nearer, I must fire, though contrary to my wishes, and then sartain death will follow. Stop paddling, and answer.”

  “Fire, and slay a poor, defenceless, girl,” returned a soft tremulous female voice. “And God will never forgive you! Go your way, Deerslayer, and let m
e go mine.”

  “Hetty!” exclaimed the young man and Judith in a breath; and the former sprang instantly to the spot where he had left the canoe they had been towing. It was gone, and he understood the whole affair. As for the fugitive, frightened at the menace, she ceased paddling, and remained dimly visible, resembling a spectral outline of a human form, standing on the water. At the next moment, the sail was lowered, to prevent the Ark from passing the spot where the canoe lay. This last expedient, however, was not taken in time, for the momentum of so heavy a craft, and the impulsion of the air, soon set her by, bringing Hetty directly to windward, though still visible, as the change in the positions of the two boats, now placed her in that species of milky way which has been mentioned.

  “What can this mean, Judith?” demanded Deerslayer—“Why has your sister taken the canoe, and left us?”

  “You know she is feeble-minded, poor girl!—and she has her own ideas of what ought to be done. She loves her father more than most children love their parents—and—then—”

  “Then, what, gal?—This is a trying moment; one in which truth must be spoken!”

  Judith felt a generous and womanly regret at betraying her sister, and she hesitated ere she spoke again. But once more urged by Deerslayer, and conscious herself of all the risks the whole party was running by the indiscretion of Hetty, she could refrain no longer.

  “Then, I fear, poor, weak-minded, Hetty has not been altogether able to see all the vanity, and rudeness and folly, that lie hid behind the handsome face and fine form of Hurry Harry. She talks of him, in her sleep, and sometimes betrays the inclination, in her waking moments.”

  “You think, Judith, that your sister is now bent on some mad scheme to serve her father and Hurry, which will, in all likelihood, give them riptyles the Mingos, the mastership of a canoe?”

  “Such, I fear, will turn out to be the fact, Deerslayer: Poor Hetty has hardly sufficient cunning to outwit a savage.”

  All this while, the canoe, with the form of Hetty, erect in one end of it, was dimly perceptible, though the greater drift of the Ark, rendered it, at each instant, less and less distinct. It was evident no time was to be lost, lest it should altogether disappear. The rifles were now laid aside, as useless, the two men seizing the oars, and sweeping the head of the scow round, in the direction of the canoe. Judith, accustomed to the office, flew to the other end of the Ark, and placed herself at what might be called the helm. Hetty took the alarm, at these preparations, which could not be made without noise, and started off like a bird, that had been suddenly put up by the approach of unexpected danger.

  As Deerslayer and his companion rowed with the energy of those who felt the necessity of straining every nerve, and Hetty’s strength was impaired by a nervous desire to escape, the chase would have quickly terminated in the capture of the fugitive, had not the girl made several short and unlooked-for deviations in her course. These turnings gave her time, and they had also the effect of gradually bringing both canoe and Ark within the deeper gloom, cast by the shadows from the hills. They also gradually increased the distance between the fugitive and her pursuers, until Judith called out to her companions to cease rowing, for she had completely lost sight of the canoe.

  When this mortifying announcement was made, Hetty was actually so near as to understand every syllable her sister uttered, though the latter had used the precaution of speaking as low as circumstances would allow her to do, and to make herself heard. Hetty stopped paddling at the same moment, and waited the result with an impatience that was breathless, equally from her late exertions, and her desire to land. A dead silence immediately fell on the lake, during which the three in the Ark were using their senses differently, in order to detect the position of the canoe. Judith bent forward to listen, in the hope of catching some sound that might betray the direction in which her sister was stealing away, while her two companions brought their eyes, as near as possible, to a level with the water, in order to detect any object that might be floating on its surface. All was vain, however, for neither sound, nor sight, rewarded their efforts. All this time Hetty, who had not the cunning to sink into the canoe, stood erect, a finger pressed on her lips, gazing in the direction in which the voices had last been heard, resembling a statue of profound and timid attention. Her ingenuity had barely sufficed to enable her to seize the canoe and to quit the Ark, in the noiseless manner related, and then it appeared to be momentarily exhausted. Even the doublings of the canoe had been as much the consequence of an uncertain hand, and of nervous agitation, as of any craftiness, or calculation.

  The pause continued several minutes, during which Deerslayer and the Delaware conferred together, in the language of the latter. Then the oars dipped, again, and the Ark moved away, rowing with as little noise as possible. It steered westward, a little southerly, or in the direction of the encampment of the enemy. Having reached a point, at no great distance from the shore, and where the obscurity was intense, on account of the proximity of the land, it lay there near an hour, in waiting for the expected approach of Hetty, who, it was thought, would make the best of her way, to that spot, as soon as she believed herself released from the danger of pursuit. No success rewarded this little blockade, however, neither appearance nor sound denoting the passage of the canoe. Disappointed at this failure, and conscious of the importance of getting possession of the fortress, before it could be seized by the enemy, Deerslayer now took his way towards the castle, with the apprehension that all his foresight in securing the canoes would be defeated, by this unguarded and alarming movement on the part of the feeble minded Hetty.

  Chapter X

  “—But who in this wild wood

  May credit give to either eye, or ear?

  From rocky precipice or hollow cave,

  ’Midst the confused sound of rustling leaves,

  And creaking boughs, and cries of nightly birds,

  Returning seeming answer!”

  —Joanna Baillie, Rayner: A Tragedy, II.i.3–4, 6–9.

  * * *

  FEAR, as much as calculation, had induced Hetty to cease paddling, when she found that her pursuers did not know in which direction to proceed. She remained stationary until the Ark had pulled in near the encampment, as has been related in the preceding chapter, when she resumed the paddle, and with cautious strokes made the best of her way towards the western shore. In order to avoid her pursuers, however, who, she rightly suspected, would soon be rowing along that shore themselves, the head of the canoe was pointed so far north, as to bring her to land on a point that thrust itself into the lake, at the distance of near a league from the outlet. Nor was this altogether the result of a desire to escape, for, feeble minded as she was, Hetty Hutter had a good deal of that instinctive caution which so often keeps those whom God has thus visited from harm. She was perfectly aware of the importance of keeping the canoes from falling into the hands of the Iroquois, and long familiarity with the lake had suggested one of the simplest expedients, by which this great object could be rendered compatible with her own purpose.

  The point in question, was the first projection that offered on that side of the lake, where a canoe, if set adrift with a southerly air would float clear of the land, and where it would be no great violation of probabilities to suppose it might even hit the castle; the latter lying above it, almost in a direct line with the wind. Such then was Hetty’s intention, and she landed on the extremity of the gravelly point, beneath an overhanging oak, with the express intention of shoving the canoe off from the shore, in order that it might drift up towards her father’s insulated abode. She knew, too, from the logs that occasionally floated about the lake, that did it miss the castle, and its appendages, the wind would be likely to change before the canoe could reach the northern extremity of the lake, and that Deerslayer might have an opportunity of regaining it, in the morning, when no doubt he would be earnestly sweeping the surface of the water, and the whole of its wooded shores, with the glass. In all this, too, Hetty was
less governed by any chain of reasoning, than by her habits, the latter often supplying the defects of mind, in human beings, as they perform the same office for animals of the inferior classes.

  The girl was quite an hour finding her way to the point, the distance and the obscurity equally detaining her, but she was no sooner on the gravelly beach, than she prepared to set the canoe adrift, in the manner mentioned. While in the act of pushing it from her, she heard low voices, that seemed to come from among the trees behind her. Startled at this unexpected danger, Hetty was on the point of springing into the canoe again, in order to seek safety in flight, when she thought she recognised the tones of Judith’s melodious voice. Bending forward, so as to catch the sounds more directly, they evidently came from the water, and then she understood that the Ark was approaching from the south, and so close in with the western shore, as necessarily to cause it to pass the point, within twenty yards of the spot where she stood. Here, then, was all she could desire; the canoe was shoved off into the lake, leaving its late occupant alone on the narrow strand.

  When this act of self-devotion was performed, Hetty did not retire. The foliage of the overhanging trees and bushes would have almost concealed her person, had there been light, but in that obscurity, it was utterly impossible to discover any object thus shaded, at the distance of a few feet. Flight, too, was perfectly easy, as twenty steps would effectually bury her in the forest. She remained, therefore, watching with intense anxiety the result of her expedient, intending to call the attention of the others to the canoe, with her voice, should they appear to pass without observing it. The Ark approached under its sail, again, Deerslayer standing in its bow, with Judith near him, and the Delaware at the helm. It would seem that, in the bay below, it had got too close to the shore, in the lingering hope of intercepting Hetty, for, as it came nearer, the latter distinctly heard the directions that the young man forward, gave to his companion aft, in order to clear the point.