When distant some two or three hundred feet from the shore, Deerslayer took in his sail, and he dropped his grapnel, as soon as he found the ark had drifted in a line that was directly to windward of the rock. The motion of the scow was then checked, when it was brought head to wind by the action of the breeze. As soon as this was done, Deerslayer “paid out line,” and suffered the vessel to “set down” upon the rock, as fast as the light air would force it to leeward. Floating entirely on the surface, this was soon effected, and the young man checked the drift when he was told that the stern of the scow was within fifteen or eighteen feet of the desired spot.
In executing this manoeuvre, Deerslayer had proceeded promptly; for while he did not in the least doubt that he was both watched and followed by the foe, he believed he had distracted their movements by the apparent uncertainty of his own, and he knew they could have no means of ascertaining that the rock was his aim unless indeed one of the prisoners had betrayed him; a chance so improbable in itself as to give him no concern. Notwithstanding the celerity and decision of his movements, he did not, however, venture so near the shore, without taking due precautions to effect a retreat, in the event of its becoming necessary. He held the line in his hand, and Judith was stationed at a loop on the side of the cabin next the shore, where she could watch the beach and the rocks, and give timely notice of the approach of either friend or foe. Hetty was also placed on watch, but it was to keep the trees overhead in view, lest some enemy might ascend one, and, by completely commanding the interior of the scow, render the defenses of the hut or cabin useless.
The sun had disappeared from the lake and valley when Deerslayer checked the ark in the manner mentioned. Still it wanted a few minutes to the true sunset, and he knew Indian punctuality too well to anticipate any unmanly haste in his friend. The great question was, whether, surrounded by enemies as he was known to be, he had escaped their toils. The occurrences of the last twenty-four hours must be a secret to him, and, like himself, Chingachgook was yet young on a warpath.3 It was true, he came prepared to encounter the party that withheld his promised bride, but he had no means of ascertaining the extent of the danger he ran, or the precise positions occupied by either friends or foes. In a word, the trained sagacity and untiring caution of an Indian were all he had to rely on, amid the critical risks he unavoidably ran.
“Is the rock empty, Judith?” inquired Deerslayer, as soon as he had checked the drift of the ark, deeming it imprudent to venture unnecessarily near the shore. “Is anything to be seen of the Delaware chief?”
“Nothing, Deerslayer. Neither rock, shore, tree, nor lake seems to have ever held a human form.”
“Keep close, Judith—keep close, Hetty—a rifle has a prying eye, a nimble foot, and a desperate fatal tongue. Keep close, then, but keep up actyve looks, and be on the alart. ’T would grieve me to the very heart did any harm befall either of you.”
“And you, Deerslayer!” exclaimed Judith, turning her handsome face from the loop, to bestow a gracious and grateful look on the young man; “do you ‘keep close,’ and have a proper care that the savages do not catch a glimpse of you! A bullet might be as fatal to you as to one of us; and the blow that you felt would be felt by all.”
“No fear of me, Judith—no fear of me, my good gal. Do not look this a way, although you look so pleasant and comely, but keep your eyes on the rock, and the shore, and the—”
Deerslayer was interrupted by a slight exclamation from the girl, who, in obedience to his hurried gestures, as much as in obedience to his words, had immediately bent her looks again in the opposite direction.
“What is’t?—what is’t, Judith?” he hastily demanded. “Is anything to be seen?”
“There is a man on the rock!—an Indian warrior in his paint, and armed!”
“Where does he wear his hawk’s feather?” eagerly added Deerslayer, relaxing his hold of the line, in readiness to drift nearer the place of rendezvous. “Is it fast to the war-lock, or does he carry it above the left ear?”
“ ’Tis as you say, above the left ear; he smiles, too, and mutters the word ‘Mohican.’ ”
“God be praised, ’tis the Sarpent at last!” exclaimed the young man, suffering the line to slip through his hands until, hearing a light bound in the other end of the craft, he instantly checked the rope, and began to haul it in again, under the assurance that his object was effected.
At that moment the door of the cabin was opened hastily, and a warrior, darting through the little room, stood at Deerslayer’s side, simply uttering the exclamation “Hugh!” At the next instant Judith and Hetty shrieked, and the air was filled with the yell of twenty savages, who came leaping through the branches down the bank, some actually falling headlong into the water in their haste.
“Pull, Deerslayer!” cried Judith, hastily barring the door, in order to prevent an inroad by the passage through which the Delaware had just entered; “pull for life and death—the lake is full of savages wading after us!”
The young men—for Chingachgook immediately came to his friend’s assistance—needed no second bidding; but they applied themselves to their task in a way that showed how urgent they deemed the occasion. The great difficulty was in suddenly overcoming the vis inertiaeg of so large a mass; for once in motion, it was easy to cause the scow to skim the water with all the necessary speed.
“Pull, Deerslayer, for Heaven’s sake!” cried Judith again at the loop. “These wretches rush into the water like hounds following their prey! Ah!—the scow moves! and now the water deepens to the armpits of the foremost; still they rush forward, and will seize the ark! ”
A slight scream, and then a joyous laugh followed from the girl; the first produced by a desperate effort of their pursuers, and the last by its failure; the scow, which had now got fairly in motion, gliding ahead into deep water with a velocity that set the designs of their enemies at naught. As the two men were prevented by the position of the cabin from seeing what passed astern, they were compelled to inquire of the girls into the state of the chase.
“What now, Judith?—what next? Do the Mingos still follow, or are we quit of ’em for the present?” demanded Deerslayer, when he felt the rope yielding, as if the scow was going fast ahead, and heard the scream and the laugh of the girl almost in the same breath.
“They have vanished!—one, the last, is just burying himself in the bushes of the bank—there, he has disappeared in the shadows of the trees! You have got your friend, and we are all safe!”
The two men now made another great effort, pulled the ark up swiftly to the grapnel, tripped it, and when the scow had shot some distance, and lost its way, they let the anchor drop again; then, for the first time since their meeting, they ceased their efforts. As the floating house now lay several hundred feet from the shore, and offered a complete protection against bullets, there was no longer any danger, or any motive for immediate exertion.
The manner in which the two friends now recognized each other was highly characteristic. Chingachgook, a noble, tall, handsome, and athletic young Indian warrior, first examined his rifle with care, opening the pan to make sure the priming was not wet; and assured of this important fact, he next cast furtive but observant glances around him at the strange habitation and at the two girls; still he spoke not, and most of all did he avoid the betrayal of a womanish curiosity by asking questions.
“Judith and Hetty,” said Deerslayer, with an untaught, natural courtesy, “this is the Mohican chief of whom you’ve heard me speak; Chingachgook, as he is called, which signifies the Big Sarpent; so named for his wisdom, and prudence, and cunning; my ‘arliest and latest friend. I know’d it must be he, by the hawk’s feather over the left ear, most other warriors wearing ’em on the war-lock.”
As Deerslayer ceased speaking, he laughed heartily, excited more perhaps by the delight of having got his friend safe at his side, under circumstances so trying, than by any conceit that happened to cross his fancy, and exhibiting this outbreaking of fe
eling in a manner that was a little remarkable, since his merriment was not accompanied by any noise. Although Chingachgook both understood and spoke English, he was unwilling to communicate his thoughts in it, like most Indians; and when he had met Judith’s cordial shake of the hand, and Hetty’s milder salute, in the courteous manner that became a chief, he turned away, apparently to await the moment when it might suit his friend to enter into an explanation of his future intentions, and to give a narrative of what had passed since their separation. The other understood his meaning, and discovered his own mode of reasoning in the matter by addressing the girls.
“This wind will soon die away altogether, now the sun is down,” he said, “and there is no need of rowing ag‘in it. In half an hour or so, it will either be a flat calm or the air will come off from the south shore, when we will begin our journey back ag’in to the castle; in the meanwhile, the Delaware and I will talk over matters, and get correct ideas of each other’s notions consarning the course we ought to take.”
No one opposed this proposition, and the girls withdrew into the cabin to prepare the evening meal, while the two young men took their seats on the head of the scow, and began to converse. The dialogue was in the language of the Delawares. As that dialect, however, is but little understood, even by the learned, we shall, not only on this but on all subsequent occasions, render such parts as it may be necessary to give closely into liberal English; preserving, as far as possible, the idioms and peculiarities of the respective speakers, by way of presenting the pictures in the most graphic forms to the minds of the readers.
It is unnecessary to enter into the details first related by Deerslayer, who gave a brief narrative of the facts that are already familiar to those who have read our pages. In relating these events, however, it may be well to say that the speaker touched only on the outlines, more particularly abstaining from saying anything about his encounter with, and victory over the Iroquois, as well as to his own exertions in behalf of the deserted young women. When Deerslayer ended, the Delaware took up the narrative in turn, speaking sententiously, and with great dignity His account was both clear and short, nor was it embellished by any incidents that did not directly concern the history of his departure from the villages of his people, and his arrival in the valley of the Susquehannah. On reaching the latter, which was at a point only half a mile south of the outlet, he had soon struck a trail, which gave him notice of the probable vicinity of enemies. Being prepared for such an occurrence, the object of the expedition calling him directly into the neighborhood of the party of Iroquois that was known to be out, he considered the discovery as fortunate, rather than the reverse, and took the usual precautions to turn it to account. First following the river to its source, and ascertaining the position of the rock, he met another trail, and had actually been hovering for hours on the flanks of his enemies, watching equally for an opportunity to meet his mistress and to take a scalp; and it may be questioned which he most ardently desired. He kept near the lake, and occasionally he ventured to some spot where he could get a view of what was passing on its surface. The ark had been seen and watched from the moment it hove in sight, though the young chief was necessarily ignorant that it was to be the instrument of effecting the desired junction with his friend. The uncertainty of its movements, and the fact that it was unquestionably managed by white men, led him to conjecture the truth, however, and he held himself in readiness to get on board whenever a suitable occasion might offer. As the sun drew near the horizon, he repaired to the rock, where, on emerging from the forest, he was gratified in finding the ark lying apparently in readiness to receive him. The manner of his appearance, and of his entrance into the craft, is known.
Although Chingachgook had been closely watching his enemies for hours, their sudden and close pursuit, as he reached the scow, was as much a matter of surprise to himself as it had been to his friend. He could only account for it by the fact of their being more numerous than he had at first supposed, and by their having out parties, of the existence of which he was ignorant. Their regular and permanent encampment, if the word permanent can be applied to the residence of a party that intended to remain out, in all probability, but a few weeks, was not far from the spot where Hutter and Harry had fallen into their hands, and, as a matter of course, near a spring.
“Well, Sarpent”—asked Deerslayer, when the other had ended his brief but spirited narrative, speaking always in the Delaware tongue, which, for the reader’s convenience only, we render into the peculiar vernacular of the speaker—“Well, Sarpent, as you’ve been scouting around these Mingos, have you anything to tell us of their captyves; the father of these young women and another, who, I somewhat conclude, is the lovyer of one of ’em?”
“Chingachgook has seen them. An old man and a young warrior—the fallen hemlock and the tall pine.”
“You’re not so much out, Delaware; you’re not so much out. Old Hutter is decaying, of a sartainty, though many solid blocks might be hewn out of his trunk yet; and, as for Hurry Harry, so far as height, and strength, and comeliness go, he may be called the pride of the human forest. Were the men bound, or in any manner suffering torture ? I ask on account of the young women; who, I dare say, would be glad to know.”
“It is not so, Deerslayer. The Mingos are too many to cage their game. Some watch, some sleep, some scout, some hunt. The palefaces are treated like brothers today; tomorrow they will lose their scalps.”
“Yes, that’s red natur’, and must be submitted to! Judith and Hetty, here’s comfortable tidings for you, the Delaware telling me that neither your father nor Hurry Harry is in suffering; but, bating the loss of liberty, as well off as we are ourselves. Of course they are kept in the camp; otherwise they do much as they please.”
“I rejoice to hear this, Deerslayer,” returned Judith, “and now we are joined by your friend, I make no manner of question that we shall find an opportunity to ransom the prisoners. If there are any women in the camp, I have articles of dress that will catch their eyes; and, should the worst come to the worst, we can open the good chest, which, I think, will be found to hold things that may tempt the chiefs.”
“Judith,” said the young man, looking up at her with a smile, and an expression of earnest curiosity, that, spite of the growing obscurity, did not escape the watchful looks of the girl, “can you find it in your heart to part with your own finery to release prisoners; even though one be your own father, and the other is your sworn suitor and lovyer?”
The flush on the face of the girl arose in part from resentment, but more perhaps from a gentler and novel feeling, that, with the capricious waywardness of taste, had been rapidly rendering her more sensitive to the good opinion of the youth who questioned her, than to that of any other person. Suppressing the angry sensation with instinctive quickness, she answered with a readiness and truth that caused her sister to draw near to listen, though the obtuse intellect of the latter was far from comprehending the workings of a heart as treacherous, as uncertain, and as impetuous in its feelings as that of the spoiled and flattered beauty.
“Deerslayer,” answered Judith, after a moment’s pause, “I shall be honest with you. I confess that the time has been when what you call finery was to me the dearest thing on earth; but I begin to feel dif ferently. Though Hurry Harry is naught to me, nor ever can be, I would give all I own to set him free. If I would do this for blustering, bullying, talking Hurry, who has nothing but good looks to recommend him, you may judge what I would do for my own father.”
“This sounds well, and is according to woman’s gifts. Ah’s me! The same feelin’s is to be found among the young women of the Delawares. I’ve known ‘em, often and often, sacrifice their vanity to their hearts. ’Tis as it should be—‘tis as it should be, I suppose, in both colors. Woman was created for the feelin’s, and is pretty much ruled by feelin’!”
“Would the savages let father go, if Judith and I gave them all our best things?” demanded Hetty, in her innocent, mild
manner.
“Their women might interfere, good Hetty; yes, their women might interfere with such an ind in view. But, tell me, Sarpent, how it is as to squaws among the knaves; have they many of their own women in the camp?”
The Delaware heard and understood all that passed; though with Indian gravity and finesse he had sat, with averted face, seemingly inattentive to a discourse in which he had no direct concern. Thus appealed to, however, he answered his friend in his ordinary sententious manner.
“Six,” he said, holding up all the fingers of one hand, and the thumb of the other; “besides this.” The last number denoted his betrothed ; whom, with the poetry and truth of nature, he described by laying his hand on his own heart.
“Did you see her, chief—did you get a glimpse of her pleasant countenance, or come close enough to her ear to sing in it the song she loves to hear?”
“No, Deerslayer—the trees were too many, and leaves covered their boughs, like clouds hiding the heavens in a storm. But”—and the young warrior turned his dark face towards his friend, with a smile on it that illuminated its fierce-looking paint and naturally stern lineaments with a bright gleam of human feeling—“Chingachgook heard the laugh of Wah-ta-Wah; he knew it from the laugh of the women of the Iroquois. It sounded in his ears like the chirp of the wren.”
Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) Page 21
