The moment the Hurons lost sight of the body of Hurry, they gave a common yell of disappointment, and three of the most active of their number ran to the trap and entered the canoe. It required some little delay, however, to embark with their weapons, to find the paddles, and, if we may use a phrase so purely technical, “to get out of dock.” By this time Hurry was in the scow, and the Delaware had his rifles, again, in readiness. As the ark necessarily sailed before the wind, it had got by this time, quite two hundred yards from the castle, and was sliding away each instant, farther and farther, though with a motion so easy as scarcely to stir the water. The canoe of the girls was quite a quarter of a mile distant from the ark, obviously keeping aloof, in ignorance of what had occurred, and in apprehension of the consequences of venturing too near. They had taken the direction of the eastern shore, endeavouring at the same time to get to windward of the ark, and in a manner between the two parties, as if distrusting which was to be considered a friend, and which an enemy. The girls, from long habit, used the paddles with great dexterity; and Judith, in particular, had often sportively gained races, in trials of speed with the youths that occasionally visited the lake.
When the three Hurons emerged from behind the palisades, and they found themselves on the open lake, and under the necessity of advancing unprotected on the ark, if they persevered in the original design, their ardour sensibly cooled. In a bark canoe, they were totally without cover, and Indian discretion was entirely opposed to such a sacrifice of life as would most probably follow any attempt to assault an enemy, entrenched as effectually as the Delaware. Instead of following the ark, therefore, these three warriors inclined towards the eastern shore, keeping at a safe distance from the rifles of Chingachgook. But this manœuvre rendered the position of the girls exceedingly critical. It threatened to place them if not between two fires, at least between two dangers, or what they conceived to be dangers; and, instead of permitting the Hurons to enclose her, in what she fancied a sort of net, Judith immediately commenced her retreat, in a southern direction, at no very great distance from the shore. She did not dare to land; if such an expedient were to be resorted to at all, she could only venture on it, in the last extremity. At first the Indians paid little or no attention to the other canoe; for, fully apprised of its contents, they deemed its capture of comparatively little moment; while the ark, with its imaginary treasures, the persons of the Delaware and of Hurry, and its means of movement on a large scale, was before them. But this ark had its dangers as well as its temptations; and after wasting near an hour, in vacillating evolutions, always at a safe distance from the rifle, the Hurons seemed suddenly to take their resolution, and began to display it by giving eager chase to the girls.
When this last design was adopted, the circumstances of all parties, as connected with their relative positions, were materially changed. The ark had sailed and drifted quite half a mile, and was nearly that distance due north of the castle. As soon as the Delaware perceived that the girls avoided him, unable to manage his unwieldy craft, and knowing that flight from a bark canoe, in the event of pursuit, would be a useless expedient if attempted, he had lowered his sail, in the hope it might induce the sisters to change their plan, and to seek refuge in the scow. This demonstration produced no other effect than to keep the ark nearer to the scene of action, and to enable those in her to become witnesses of the chase. The canoe of Judith was about a quarter of a mile south of that of the Hurons, a little nearer to the east shore, and about the same distance to the southward of the castle, as it was from the hostile canoe, a circumstance which necessarily put the last nearly abreast of Hutter’s fortress. With the several parties thus situated, the chase commenced.
At the moment when the Hurons so suddenly changed their mode of attack, their canoe was not in the best possible racing trim. There were but two paddles, and the third man was so much extra and useless cargo. Then the difference in weight, between the sisters and the other two men, more especially in vessels so extremely light, almost neutralized any difference that might proceed from the greater strength of the Hurons, and rendered the trial of speed far from being as unequal as it might seem. Judith did not commence her exertions until the near approach of the other canoe rendered the object of the movement certain, and then she excited Hetty to aid her with her utmost skill and strength.
“Why should we run, Judith?” asked the simple-minded girl; “the Hurons have never harmed me, nor do I think they ever will.”
“That may be true as to you, Hetty, but it will prove very different with me. Kneel down and say your prayer, and then rise, and do your utmost to help escape.--Think of me, dear girl, too, as you pray.”
Judith gave these directions from a mixed feeling; first, because she knew that her sister ever sought the support of her Great Ally, in trouble; and next, because a sensation of feebleness and dependence suddenly came over her own proud spirit, in that moment of apparent desertion and trial. The prayer was quickly said, however, and the canoe was soon in rapid motion. Still, neither party resorted to their greatest exertions from the outset, both knowing that the chase was likely to be arduous and long. Like two vessels of war that are preparing for an encounter, they seemed desirous of first ascertaining their respective rates of speed, in order that they might know how to graduate their exertions, previously to the great effort. A few minutes sufficed to show the Hurons that the girls were expert, and that it would require all their skill and energies to overtake them.
Judith had inclined towards the eastern shore at the commencement of the chase, with a vague determination of landing and flying to the woods, as a last resort; but as she approached the land, the certainty that scouts must be watching her movements, made her reluctance to adopt such an expedient unconquerable. Then she was still fresh, and had sanguine hopes of being able to tire out her pursuers. With such feelings, she gave a sweep with her paddle, and sheered off from the fringe of dark hemlocks, beneath the shades of which she was so near entering, and held her way again, more towards the centre of the lake. This seemed the instant favourable for the Hurons to make their push, as it gave them the entire breadth of the sheet to do it in; and this, too, in the widest part, as soon as they had got between the fugitives and the land. The canoes now flew; Judith making up for what she wanted in strength, by her great dexterity and self-command. For half a mile the Indians gained no material advantage, but the continuance of so great exertions for so many minutes sensibly affected all concerned. Here the Indians resorted to an expedient that enabled them to give one of their party time to breathe, by shifting the paddles from hand to hand, and this, too, without sensibly relaxing their efforts. Judith occasionally looked behind her, and she saw this expedient practised. It caused her immediately to distrust the result, since her powers of endurance were not likely to hold out against those of men who had the means of relieving each other; still she persevered, allowing no very visible consequences immediately to follow the change.
As yet, the Indians had not been able to get nearer to the girls than two hundred yards, though they were what sea-men would term “in their wake;” or in a direct line behind them, passing over the same track of water. This made the pursuit what is technically called a “stern chase,” which is proverbially a “long chase;” the meaning of which is, that in consequence of the relative position of the parties, no change becomes apparent, except that which is a direct gain in the nearest possible approach. “Long” as this species of chase is admitted to be, however, Judith was enabled to perceive that the Hurons were sensibly drawing nearer and nearer, before she had gained the centre of the lake. She was not a girl to despair; but there was an instant when she thought of yielding, with the wish of being carried to the camp where she knew the Deerslayer to be a captive; but the considerations connected with the means she hoped to be able to employ, in order to procure his release, immediately interposed, in order to stimulate her to renewed exertions. Had there been any one there to note the progress of the two cano
es, he would have seen that of Judith flying swiftly away from its pursuers, as the girl gave it freshly-impelled speed, while her mind was thus dwelling on her own ardent and generous schemes. So material, indeed, was the difference in the rate of going between the two canoes, for the next five minutes, that the Hurons began to be convinced all their powers must be exerted, or they would suffer the disgrace of being baffled by women. Making a furious effort, under the mortification of such a conviction, one of the stronger of their party broke his paddle, at the very moment when he had taken it from the hand of a comrade, to relieve him. This at once decided the matter; a canoe containing three men, and having but one paddle, being utterly unable to overtake fugitives like the daughters of Thomas Hutter.
“There, Judith!” exclaimed Hetty, who saw the accident--“I hope, now, you will own, that praying is useful! The Hurons have broke a paddle, and they never can overtake us.”
“I never denied it, poor Hetty; and sometimes wish, in bitterness of spirit, that I had prayed more myself, and thought less of my beauty! As you say, we are now safe, and need only go a little south, and take breath.”
This was done; the enemy giving up the pursuit, as suddenly as a ship that has lost an important spar, the instant the accident occurred. Instead of following Judith’s canoe, which was now lightly skimming the water towards the south, the Hurons turned their bows towards the castle, where they soon arrived and landed. The girls, fearful that some spare paddles might be found in, or about the buildings, continued on; nor did they stop, until so distant from their enemies as to give them every chance of escape, should the chase be renewed. It would seem that the savages meditated no such design, but at the end of an hour their canoe, filled with men, was seen quitting the castle, and steering towards the shore. The girls were without food, and they now drew nearer to the buildings and the ark, having finally made up their minds, from its manœuvres, that the latter contained friends.
Notwithstanding the seeming desertion of the castle, Judith approached it with extreme caution. The ark was now quite a mile to the northward, but sweeping up towards the buildings; and this, too, with a regularity of motion that satisfied Judith a white man was at the oars. When within a hundred yards of the building, the girls began to circle it, in order to make sure that it was empty. No canoe was nigh, and this emboldened them to draw nearer and nearer, until they had gone entirely round the piles, and reached the platform.
“Do you go into the house, Hetty,” said Judith, “and see that the savages are gone. They will not harm you, and if any of them are still here, you can give me the alarm. I do not think they will fire on a poor defenceless girl, and I at least may escape, until I shall be ready to go among them of my own accord.”
Hetty did as desired--Judith retiring a few yards from the platform, the instant her sister landed, in readiness for flight. But the last was unnecessary, not a minute elapsing before Hetty returned to communicate that all was safe.
“I’ve been in all the rooms, Judith,” said the latter, earnestly, “and they are empty, except father’s; he is in his own chamber, sleeping, though not as quietly as we could wish.”
“Has any thing happened to father?” demanded Judith, as her foot touched the platform; speaking quick, for her nerves were in a state to be easily alarmed.
Hetty seemed concerned, and she looked furtively about her, as if unwilling any one but a child should hear what she had to communicate, and even that she should learn it abruptly.
“You know how it is with father, sometimes, Judith,” she said. “When overtaken with liquor he doesn’t always know what he says, or does--and he seems to be overtaken with liquor, now.”
“This is strange!--Would the savages have drunk with him, and then leave him behind? But ’t is a grievous sight to a child, Hetty, to witness such a failing in a parent, and we will not go near him till he wakes.”
A groan from the inner room, however, changed this resolution, and the girls ventured near a parent, whom it was no unusual thing for them to find in a condition that lowers a man to the level of brutes. He was seated, reclining in a corner of the narrow room, with his shoulders supported by the angle, and his head fallen heavily on his chest. Judith moved forward, with a sudden impulse, and removed a canvass cap that was forced so low on his head as to conceal his face, and, indeed, all but his shoulders. The instant this obstacle was taken away, the quivering and raw flesh, the bared veins and muscles, and all the other disgusting signs of mortality, as they are revealed by tearing away the skin, showed he had been scalped, though still living.
CHAPTER VI.
“Lightly they’ll talk of the spirit that’s gone,
And o’er his cold ashes upbraid him;
But nothing he’ll reck, if they’ll let him sleep on,
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.”
Disputed The reader must imagine the horror that daughters would experience, at unexpectedly beholding the shocking spectacle that was placed before the eyes of Judith and Esther, as related in the close of the last chapter. We shall pass over the first emotions, the first acts of filial piety, and proceed with the narrative, by imagining rather than relating most of the revolting features of the scene. The mutilated and ragged head was bound up, the unseemly blood was wiped from the face of the sufferer, the other appliances required by appearances and care were resorted to, and there was time to inquire into the more serious circumstances of the case. The facts were never known until years later, in all their details, simple as they were; but they may as well be related here, as it can be done in a few words. In the struggle with the Hurons, Hutter had been stabbed by the knife of the old warrior, who had used the discretion to remove the arms of every one but himself. Being hard pushed by his sturdy foe, his knife had settled the matter. This occurred just as the door was opened, and Hurry burst out upon the platform, as has been previously related. This was the secret of neither party’s having appeared in the subsequent struggle; Hutter having been literally disabled, and his conqueror being ashamed to be seen with the traces of blood about him, after having used so many injunctions to convince his young warriors of the necessity of taking their prisoners alive. When the three Hurons returned from the chase, and it was determined to abandon the castle, and join the party on the land, Hutter was simply scalped, to secure the usual trophy, and was left to die by inches, as has been done in a thousand similar instances, by the ruthless warriors of this part of the American continent. Had the injury of Hutter been confined to his head, he might have recovered, however; for it was the blow of the knife that proved mortal.
There are moments of vivid consciousness, when the stern justice of God stands forth in colours so prominent, as to defy any attempts to veil them from the sight, however unpleasant they may appear, or however anxious we may be to avoid recognising it. Such was now the fact with Judith and Hetty, who both perceived the decrees of a retributive Providence, in the manner of their father’s suffering, as a punishment for his own recent attempts on the Iroquois. This was seen and felt by Judith, with the keenness of perception and sensibility that were suited to her character; while the impression made on the simpler mind of her sister was perhaps less lively, though it might well have proved more lasting.
“Oh! Judith,” exclaimed the weak-minded girl, as soon as their first care had been bestowed on the sufferer. “Father went for scalps, himself, and now where is his own? The Bible might have foretold this dreadful punishment!”
The Deerslayer; or, The First Warpath . . . Volume 2 Page 10
