The Pathfinder; Or, The Inland Sea

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER XXVIII.

  Thou barraine ground, whom winter's wrath hath wasted, Art made a mirror to behold my plight: Whilome thy fresh spring flower'd: and after hasted Thy summer prowde, with daffodillies dight; And now is come thy winter's stormy state, Thy mantle mar'd wherein thou maskedst late. SPENSER.

  Although the soldier may regard danger and even death with indifferencein the tumult of battle, when the passage of the soul is delayed tomoments of tranquillity and reflection the change commonly brings withit the usual train of solemn reflections; of regrets for the past, andof doubts and anticipations for the future. Many a man has died with aheroic expression on his lips, but with heaviness and distrust at hisheart; for, whatever may be the varieties of our religious creeds, letus depend on the mediation of Christ, the dogmas of Mahomet, or theelaborated allegories of the East, there is a conviction, common toall men, that death is but the stepping-stone between this and a moreelevated state of being. Sergeant Dunham was a brave man; but he wasdeparting for a country in which resolution could avail him nothing; andas he felt himself gradually loosened from the grasp of the world, histhoughts and feelings took the natural direction for if it be true thatdeath is the great leveller, in nothing is it more true than that itreduces all to the same views of the vanity of life.

  Pathfinder, though a man of peculiar habits and opinions, was alwaysthoughtful, and disposed to view the things around him with a shade ofphilosophy, as well as with seriousness. In him, therefore, the scenein the blockhouse awakened no very novel feelings. But the case wasdifferent with Cap: rude, opinionated, dogmatical, and boisterous, theold sailor was little accustomed to view even death with any approach tothe gravity which its importance demands; and notwithstanding all thathad passed, and his real regard for his brother-in-law, he now enteredthe room of the dying man with much of that callous unconcern whichwas the fruit of long training in a school that, while it gives so manylessons in the sublimest truths, generally wastes its admonitions onscholars who are little disposed to profit by them.

  The first proof that Cap gave of his not entering so fully as thosearound him into the solemnity of the moment, was by commencing anarration of the events which had just led to the deaths of Muir andArrowhead. "Both tripped their anchors in a hurry, brother Dunham," heconcluded; "and you have the consolation of knowing that others havegone before you in the great journey, and they, too, men whom you've noparticular reason to love; which to me, were I placed in your situation,would be a source of very great satisfaction. My mother always said,Master Pathfinder, that dying people's spirits should not be damped, butthat they ought to be encouraged by all proper and prudent means; andthis news will give the poor fellow a great lift, if he feels towardsthem savages any way as I feel myself."

  June arose at this intelligence, and stole from the blockhouse witha noiseless step. Dunham listened with a vacant stare, for life hadalready lost so many of its ties that he had really forgotten Arrowhead,and cared nothing for Muir; but he inquired, in a feeble voice, forEau-douce. The young man was immediately summoned, and soon made hisappearance. The Sergeant gazed at him kindly, and the expression of hiseyes was that of regret for the injury he had done him in thought. Theparty in the blockhouse now consisted of Pathfinder, Cap, Mabel, Jasper,and the dying man. With the exception of the daughter, all stood aroundthe Sergeant's pallet, in attendance in his last moments. Mabel kneeledat his side, now pressing a clammy hand to her head, now applyingmoisture to the parched lips of her father.

  "Your case will shortly be ourn, Sergeant," said Pathfinder, who couldhardly be said to be awestruck by the scene, for he had witnessed theapproach and victories of death too often for that; but who felt thefull difference between his triumphs in the excitement of battle and inthe quiet of the domestic circle; "and I make no question we shall meetag'in hereafter. Arrowhead has gone his way, 'tis true; but it can neverbe the way of a just Indian. You've seen the last of him, for his pathcannot be the path of the just. Reason is ag'in the thought in his case,as it is also, in my judgment, ag'in it too in the case of LieutenantMuir. You have done your duty in life; and when a man does that, he maystart on the longest journey with a light heart and an actyve foot."

  "I hope so, my friend: I've tried to do my duty."

  "Ay, ay," put in Cap; "intention is half the battle; and though youwould have done better had you hove-to in the offing and sent a craft into feel how the land lay, things might have turned out differently: noone here doubts that you meant all for the best, and no one anywhereelse, I should think, from what I've seen of this world and read oft'other."

  "I did; yes. I meant all for the best."

  "Father! Oh, my beloved father!"

  "Magnet is taken aback by this blow, Master Pathfinder, and can say ordo but little to carry her father over the shoals; so we must try allthe harder to serve him a friendly turn ourselves."

  "Did you speak, Mabel?" Dunham asked, turning his eyes in the directionof his daughter, for he was already too feeble to turn his body.

  "Yes, father; rely on nothing you have done yourself for mercy andsalvation trust altogether in the blessed mediation of the Son of God!"

  "The chaplain has told us something like this, brother. The dear childmay be right."

  "Ay, ay, that's doctrine, out of question. He will be our Judge, andkeeps the log-book of our acts, and will foot them all up at the lastday, and then say who has done well and who has done ill. I do believeMabel is right; but then you need not be concerned, as no doubt theaccount has been fairly kept."

  "Uncle!--Dearest father! this is a vain illusion! Oh, place all yourtrust in the mediation of our Holy Redeemer! Have you not often feltyour own insufficiency to effect your own wishes in the commonestthings? And how can you imagine yourself, by your own acts, equal toraise up a frail and sinful nature sufficiently to be received intothe presence of perfect purity? There is no hope for any but in themediation of Christ!"

  "This is what the Moravians used to tell us," said Pathfinder to Cap ina low voice; "rely on it, Mabel is right."

  "Right enough, friend Pathfinder, in the distances, but wrong in thecourse. I'm afraid the child will get the Sergeant adrift, at the verymoment when we had him in the best of the water and in the plainest partof the channel."

  "Leave it to Mabel, leave it to Mabel; she knows better than any of us,and can do no harm."

  "I have heard this before," Dunham at length replied. "Ah, Mabel! it isstrange for the parent to lean on the child at a moment like this!"

  "Put your trust in God, father; lean on His holy and compassionate Son.Pray, dearest, dearest father; pray for His omnipotent support."

  "I am not used to prayer. Brother, Pathfinder--Jasper, can you help meto words?"

  Cap scarcely knew what prayer meant, and he had no answer to give.Pathfinder prayed often, daily, if not hourly; but it was mentally, inhis own simple modes of thinking, and without the aid of words at all.In this strait, therefore, he was as useless as the mariner, and hadno reply to make. As for Jasper Eau-douce, though he would gladlyhave endeavored to move a mountain to relieve Mabel, this was askingassistance it exceeded his power to give; and he shrank back with theshame that is only too apt to overcome the young and vigorous, whencalled on to perform an act that tacitly confesses their real weaknessand dependence on a superior power.

  "Father," said Mabel, wiping her eyes, and endeavoring to composefeatures that were pallid, and actually quivering with emotion, "I willpray with you, for you, for _myself_; for us _all_. The petition of thefeeblest and humblest is never unheeded."

  There was something sublime, as well as much that was supremelytouching, in this act of filial piety. The quiet but earnest mannerin which this young creature prepared herself to perform the duty; theself-abandonment with which she forgot her sex's timidity and sex'sshame, in order to sustain her parent at that trying moment; theloftiness of purpose with which she directed all her powers to theimmense object before her, with a woman's dev
otion and a woman'ssuperiority to trifles, when her affections make the appeal; and theholy calm into which her grief was compressed, rendered her, for themoment, an object of something very like awe and veneration to hercompanions.

  Mabel had been religiously educated; equally without exaggeration andwithout self-sufficiency. Her reliance on God was cheerful and full ofhope, while it was of the humblest and most dependent nature. Shehad been accustomed from childhood to address herself to the Deity inprayer; taking example from the Divine mandate of Christ Himself, whocommanded His followers to abstain from vain repetitions, and who hasleft behind Him a petition which is unequalled for sublimity, as ifexpressly to rebuke the disposition of man to set up his own loose andrandom thoughts as the most acceptable sacrifice. The sect in whichshe had been reared has furnished to its followers some of the mostbeautiful compositions in the language, as a suitable vehicle for itsdevotion and solicitations. Accustomed to this mode of public and evenprivate prayer, the mind of our heroine had naturally fallen into itstrain of lofty thought; her task had become improved by its study, andher language elevated and enriched by its phrases. When she kneeled atthe bedside of her father, the very reverence of her attitude and mannerprepared the spectators for what was to come; and as her affectionateheart prompted her tongue, and memory came in aid of both, the petitionand praises that she offered up were of a character which mighthave worthily led the spirits of angels. Although the words were notslavishly borrowed, the expressions partook of the simple dignity of theliturgy to which she had been accustomed, and was probably as worthyof the Being to whom they were addressed as they could well be made byhuman powers. They produced their full impression on the hearers; for itis worthy of remark, that, notwithstanding the pernicious effects ofa false taste when long submitted to, real sublimity and beauty areso closely allied to nature that they generally find an echo in everyheart.

  But when our heroine came to touch upon the situation of the dying man,she became the most truly persuasive; for then she was the most trulyzealous and natural. The beauty of the language was preserved, but itwas sustained by the simple power of love; and her words were warmed bya holy zeal, that approached to the grandeur of true eloquence. We mightrecord some of her expressions, but doubt the propriety of subjectingsuch sacred themes to a too familiar analysis, and refrain.

  The effect of this singular but solemn scene was different on thedifferent individuals present. Dunham himself was soon lost in thesubject of the prayer; and he felt some such relief as one who findshimself staggering on the edge of a precipice, under a burthen difficultto be borne, might be supposed to experience when he unexpectedly feelsthe weight removed, in order to be placed on the shoulders of anotherbetter able to sustain it. Cap was surprised, as well as awed; thoughthe effects on his mind were not very deep or very lasting. He wondereda little at his own sensations, and had his doubts whether they were somanly and heroic as they ought to be; but he was far too sensible ofthe influence of truth, humility, religious submission, and humandependency, to think of interposing with any of his crude objections.Jasper knelt opposite to Mabel, covered his face, and followed herwords, with an earnest wish to aid her prayers with his own; though itmay be questioned if his thoughts did not dwell quite as much onthe soft, gentle accents of the petitioner as on the subject of herpetition.

  The effect on Pathfinder was striking and visible: visible, becausehe stood erect, also opposite to Mabel; and the workings of hiscountenance, as usual, betrayed the workings of the spirit within.He leaned on his rifle, and at moments the sinewy fingers grasped thebarrel with a force that seemed to compress the weapon while, onceor twice, as Mabel's language rose in intimate association with herthoughts, he lifted his eyes to the floor above him, as if he expectedto find some visible evidence of the presence of the dread Being to whomthe words were addressed. Then again his feelings reverted to thefair creature who was thus pouring out her spirit, in fervent but calmpetitions, in behalf of a dying parent; for Mabel's cheek was no longerpallid, but was flushed with a holy enthusiasm, while her blue eyes wereupturned in the light, in a way to resemble a picture by Guido. At thesemoments all the honest and manly attachment of Pathfinder glowed in hisingenuous features, and his gaze at our heroine was such as the fondestparent might fasten on the child of his love.

  Sergeant Dunham laid his hand feebly on the head of Mabel as she ceasedpraying, and buried her face in his blanket.

  "Bless you, my beloved child! bless you!" he rather whispered thanuttered aloud; "this is truly consolation: would that I too could pray!"

  "Father, you know the Lord's Prayer; you taught it to me yourself whileI was yet an infant."

  The Sergeant's face gleamed with a smile, for he _did_ remember tohave discharged that portion at least of the paternal duty, and theconsciousness of it gave him inconceivable gratification at that solemnmoment. He was then silent for several minutes, and all present believedthat he was communing with God.

  "Mabel, my child!" he at length uttered, in a voice which seemed to bereviving,--"Mabel, I'm quitting you." The spirit at its great and finalpassage appears ever to consider the body as nothing. "I'm quitting you,my child; where is your hand?"

  "Here, dearest father--here are both--oh, take both!"

  "Pathfinder," added the Sergeant, feeling on the opposite side of thebed, where Jasper still knelt, and getting one of the hands of the youngman by mistake, "take it--I leave you as her father--as you and she mayplease--bless you--bless you both!"

  At that awful instant, no one would rudely apprise the Sergeant of hismistake; and he died a minute or two later, holding Jasper's and Mabel'shands covered by both his own. Our heroine was ignorant of the factuntil an exclamation of Cap's announced the death of her father; when,raising her face, she saw the eyes of Jasper riveted on her own, andfelt the warm pressure of his hand. But a single feeling was predominantat that instant, and Mabel withdrew to weep, scarcely conscious of whathad occurred. The Pathfinder took the arm of Eau-douce, and he left theblock.

  The two friends walked in silence past the fire, along the glade, andnearly reached the opposite shore of the island in profound silence.Here they stopped, and Pathfinder spoke.

  "'Tis all over, Jasper," said he,--"'tis all over. Ah's me! PoorSergeant Dunham has finished his march, and that, too, by the hand of avenomous Mingo. Well, we never know what is to happen, and his luck maybe yourn or mine to-morrow or next day!"

  "And Mabel? What is to become of Mabel, Pathfinder?"

  "You heard the Sergeant's dying words; he has left his child in my care,Jasper; and it is a most solemn trust, it is; yes,--it is a most solemntrust."

  "It's a trust, Pathfinder, of which any man would be glad to relieveyou," returned the youth, with a bitter smile.

  "I've often thought it has fallen into wrong hands. I'm not consaited,Jasper; I'm not consaited, I do think I'm not; but if Mabel Dunham iswilling to overlook all my imperfections and ignorances like, I shouldbe wrong to gainsay it, on account of any sartainty I may have myselfabout my own want of merit."

  "No one will blame you, Pathfinder, for marrying Mabel Dunham, any morethan they will blame you for wearing a precious jewel in your bosom thata friend had freely given you."

  "Do you think they'll blame Mabel, lad? I've had my misgivings aboutthat, too; for all persons may not be so disposed to look at me with thesame eyes as you and the Sergeant's daughter."

  Jasper Eau-douce started as a man flinches at sudden bodily pain; buthe otherwise maintained his self-command. "And mankind is envious andill-natured, more particularly in and about the garrisons. I sometimeswish, Jasper, that Mabel could have taken a fancy to you,--I do; andthat you had taken a fancy to her; for it often seems to me that onelike you, after all, might make her happier than I ever can."

  "We will not talk about this, Pathfinder," interrupted Jasper hoarselyand impatiently; "you will be Mabel's husband, and it is not right tospeak of any one else in that character. As for me, I shall take MasterCap's advice, and try an
d make a man of myself by seeing what is to bedone on the salt water."

  "You, Jasper Western!--you quit the lakes, the forests, and the lines;and this, too, for the towns and wasty ways of the settlements, and alittle difference in the taste of the water. Haven't we the salt-licks,if salt is necessary to you? and oughtn't man to be satisfied with whatcontents the other creatur's of God? I counted on you, Jasper, I countedon you, I did; and thought, now that Mabel and I intend to dwell ina cabin of our own, that some day you might be tempted to choose acompanion too, and come and settle in our neighborhood. There is abeautiful spot, about fifty miles west of the garrison, that I hadchosen in my mind for my own place of abode; and there is an excellentharbor about ten leagues this side of it where you could run in and outwith the cutter at any leisure minute; and I'd even fancied you and yourwife in possession of the one place, and Mabel and I in possession oft'other. We should be just a healthy hunt apart; and if the Lord everintends any of His creaturs to be happy on 'arth, none could be happierthan we four."

  "You forget, my friend," answered Jasper, taking the guide's hand andforcing a friendly smile, "that I have no fourth person to love andcherish; and I much doubt if I ever shall love any other as I love youand Mabel."

  "Thank'e, boy; I thank you with all my heart; but what you call love forMabel is only friendship like, and a very different thing from what Ifeel. Now, instead of sleeping as sound as natur' at midnight, as I usedto could, I dream nightly of Mabel Dunham. The young does sport beforeme; and when I raise Killdeer, in order to take a little venison,the animals look back, and it seems as if they all had Mabel's sweetcountenance, laughing in my face, and looking as if they said, 'Shoot meif you dare!' Then I hear her soft voice calling out among the birdsas they sing; and no later than the last nap I took, I bethought me, infancy, of going over the Niagara, holding Mabel in my arms, rather thanpart from her. The bitterest moments I've ever known were them in whichthe devil, or some Mingo conjuror, perhaps, has just put into my headto fancy in dreams that Mabel is lost to me by some unaccountablecalamity--either by changefulness or by violence."

  "Oh, Pathfinder! If you think this so bitter in a dream, what must it beto one who feels its reality, and knows it all to be true, true, true?So true as to leave no hope; to leave nothing but despair!"

  These words burst from Jasper as a fluid pours from the vessel thathas been suddenly broken. They were uttered involuntarily, almostunconsciously, but with a truth and feeling that carried with them theinstant conviction of their deep sincerity. Pathfinder started, gazed athis friend for full a minute like one bewildered, and then it was that,in despite of all his simplicity, the truth gleamed upon him. All knowhow corroborating proofs crowd upon the mind as soon as it catches adirect clue to any hitherto unsuspected fact; how rapidly thethoughts flow and premises tend to their just conclusions under suchcircumstances. Our hero was so confiding by nature, so just, and so muchdisposed to imagine that all his friends wished him the same happinessas he wished them, that, until this unfortunate moment, a suspicion ofJasper's attachment for Mabel had never been awakened in his bosom. Hewas, however, now too experienced in the emotions which characterize thepassion and the burst of feeling in his companion was too violent andtoo natural to leave any further doubt on the subject. The feelingthat first followed this change of opinion was one of deep humility andexquisite pain. He bethought him of Jasper's youth, his higher claimsto personal appearance, and all the general probabilities that sucha suitor would be more agreeable to Mabel than he could possibly behimself. Then the noble rectitude of mind, for which the man was sodistinguished, asserted its power; it was sustained by his rebukedmanner of thinking of himself, and all that habitual deference for therights and feelings of others which appeared to be inbred in hisvery nature. Taking the arm of Jasper, he led him to a log, wherehe compelled the young man to seat himself by a sort of irresistibleexercise of his iron muscles, and where he placed himself at his side.

  The instant his feelings had found vent, Eau-douce was both alarmed at,and ashamed of, their violence. He would have given all he possessed onearth could the last three minutes be recalled; but he was too frank bydisposition and too much accustomed to deal ingenuously by his friend tothink a moment of attempting further concealment, or of any evasion ofthe explanation that he knew was about to be demanded. Even whilehe trembled in anticipation of what was about to follow, he nevercontemplated equivocation.

  "Jasper," Pathfinder commenced, in a tone so solemn as to thrill onevery nerve in his listener's body, "this _has_ surprised me! You havekinder feelings towards Mabel than I had thought; and, unless my ownmistaken vanity and consait have cruelly deceived me, I pity you, boy,from my soul I do! Yes, I think I know how to pity any one who has sethis heart on a creature like Mabel, unless he sees a prospect ofher regarding him as he regards her. This matter must be cleared up,Eau-douce, as the Delawares say, until there shall not be a cloud'atween us."

  "What clearing up can it want, Pathfinder? I love Mabel Dunham, andMabel Dunham does not love me; she prefers you for a husband; and thewisest thing I can do is to go off at once to the salt water, and try toforget you both."

  "Forget me, Jasper! That would be a punishment I don't desarve. But howdo you know that Mabel prefars _me_? How do you know it, lad? To me itseems impossible like!"

  "Is she not to marry you, and would Mabel marry a man she does notlove?"

  "She has been hard urged by the Sergeant, she has; and a dutiful childmay have found it difficult to withstand the wishes of a dying parent.Have you ever told Mabel that you prefarred her, Jasper--that you boreher these feelings?"

  "Never, Pathfinder. I would not do you that wrong."

  "I believe you, lad, I do believe you; and I think you would now go offto the salt water, and let the scent die with you. But this must not be.Mabel shall hear all, and she shall have her own way, if my heart breaksin the trial, she shall. No words have ever passed 'atween you, then,Jasper?"

  "Nothing of account, nothing direct. Still, I will own all myfoolishness, Pathfinder; for I ought to own it to a generous friendlike you, and there will be an end of it. You know how young peopleunderstand each other, or think they understand each other, withoutalways speaking out in plain speech, and get to know each other'sthoughts, or to think they know them, by means of a hundred littleways."

  "Not I, Jasper, not I," truly answered the guide; for, sooth to say,his advances had never been met with any of that sweet and preciousencouragement which silently marks the course of sympathy united topassion. "Not I, Jasper; I know nothing of all this. Mabel has alwaystreated me fairly, and said what she has had to say in speech as plainas tongue could tell it."

  "You have had the pleasure of hearing her say that she loved you,Pathfinder?"

  "Why, no, Jasper, not just that in words. She has told me that we nevercould, never ought to be married; that _she_ was not good enough for_me_, though she _did_ say that she honored me and respected me. Butthen the Sergeant said it was always so with the youthful and timid;that her mother did so and said so afore her; and that I ought to besatisfied if she would consent on any terms to marry me, and therefore Ihave concluded that all was right, I have."

  In spite of all his friendship for the successful wooer, in spite of allhis honest, sincere wished for his happiness, we should be unfaithfulchroniclers did we not own that Jasper felt his heart bound with anuncontrollable feeling of delight at this admission. It was not thathe saw or felt any hope connected with the circumstance; but it wasgrateful to the jealous covetousness of unlimited love thus to learnthat no other ears had heard the sweet confessions that were denied itsown.

  "Tell me more of this manner of talking without the use of the tongue,"continued Pathfinder, whose countenance was becoming grave, and who nowquestioned his companion like one who seemed to anticipate evil in thereply. "I can and have conversed with Chingachgook, and with his sonUncas too, in that mode, afore the latter fell; but I didn't know thatyoung girls practysed this art, and, least of
all, Mabel Dunham."

  "'Tis nothing, Pathfinder. I mean only a look, or a smile, or a glanceof the eye, or the trembling of an arm or a hand when the young womanhas had occasion to touch me; and because I have been weak enough totremble even at Mabel's breath, or her brushing me with her clothes, myvain thoughts have misled me. I never spoke plainly to Mabel myself, andnow there is no use for it, since there is clearly no hope."

  "Jasper," returned Pathfinder simply, but with a dignity that precludedfurther remarks at the moment, "we will talk of the Sergeant's funeraland of our own departure from this island. After these things aredisposed of, it will be time enough to say more of the Sergeant'sdaughter. This matter must be looked into, for the father left me thecare of his child."

  Jasper was glad enough to change the subject, and the friends separated,each charged with the duty most peculiar to his own station and habits.

  That afternoon all the dead were interred, the grave of Sergeant Dunhambeing dug in the centre of the glade, beneath the shade of a hugeelm. Mabel wept bitterly at the ceremony, and she found relief in thusdisburthening her sorrow. The night passed tranquilly, as did the wholeof the following day, Jasper declaring that the gale was too severe toventure on the lake. This circumstance detained Captain Sanglier also,who did not quit the island until the morning of the third day after thedeath of Dunham, when the weather had moderated, and the wind had becomefair. Then, indeed, he departed, after taking leave of the Pathfinder,in the manner of one who believed he was in company of a distinguishedcharacter for the last time. The two separated like those who respectone another, while each felt that the other was all enigma to himself.